The Boss and His Cowgirl(13)

I’m in so much trouble now. Having a crush on the man was one thing, but she feared that after this trip, she’d fallen way over her head in love with her boss. She cleared her throat, dragging her gaze from his to break their connection. She managed to say one word.

“Okay.”

Another emotion flickered across his expression, lightening his mood. “Okay. Good. Then we’re all settled. How about some breakfast?”

Breakfast. Yes, breakfast would work to put some distance between them and let her get her fantasies back under control. “Okay.”

He patted her arm. “For a woman whose job is words, you seem to have very few of them at the moment.”

* * *

They were somewhere over Tennessee when Georgie fell asleep. She dreamed of Clay, of him slipping his arm over her shoulders to pull her against his side.

“Georgie?” He whispered her name.

“What?” She whispered back.

“I think I’m going to kiss you now.”

She sighed, wanting to feel his lips on hers. “You think?”

“I know I want to.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Um...yeah. Okay.” Inside the dream she wanted to bang her head on the table. What was up with her managing to only say okay?

She focused on his mouth. Full lips. Firm. Hints of smile lines at the corners.

He plucked her glasses from the end of her nose and set them aside on the table. The corner of his mouth quirked as he looked at her.

“What will you taste like?” dream Clay asked. “Dessert sweet and rich? Or twenty-year-old scotch, a smoky burn in my mouth? I can’t wait to find out.”

He lowered his head and his lips brushed across hers. She licked her bottom lip, her tongue darting out to sample the taste of him. He moved in again, no hesitation this time. His lips fastened onto hers, sucking in her bottom lip as his teeth nipped. One hand secured the back of her head, angling it to the perfect position for his tender attack.

Normally bold in her fantasies about Clay, she now felt shy and her actions mirrored her emotions. Her hands, hesitant and timid, latched onto his leather jacket—he always wore leather in her dreams—and clung there as though her life depended on it. Emotions rushed through her and a little voice said she should run. Ignoring it, Georgie pressed into their kiss, her tongue now bold enough to dance with his—until he pulled away.

“Georgie, wake up. We’re getting ready to land.” Breathing hard, she opened her eyes to discover that Clay was watching her, amusement twitching his lips into a sexy grin.

“Oh, pistachios on pita. Please tell me I wasn’t talking in my sleep.”





Four

Clay smoothed his features into a neutral expression. He had heard his name on her lips several times, and the little smooching noises and puckering of her lips was both cute and...arousing. While he’d surely like to know the details, there would be a time and place to discover what Georgie dreamed about—and specifically his role in those dreams—but this wasn’t it.

“Do you make a habit of talking in your sleep?” He snapped his mouth shut, shocked he’d pursued the subject.

Georgie pushed her glasses up her nose and stared at him. Her forehead crinkled and her lips pursed as she gave the question serious thought. “I...don’t know, seeing as I’m usually asleep. Would you like me to set up a recorder to find out?”

She looked so serious, Clay hesitated a few seconds before laughing. He opened his mouth to say the first thing that popped into his head, but stopped as innate political instincts kicked in. Offering to watch her sleep at night was not a smart move. He relayed a stern warning to all interested body parts. Georgie was an employee and off-limits. Period.

“Would you?” He wanted to head-slap himself. And shut up. Yes, keeping his mouth shut would be a good thing right about now.

“Ah, Clay?”

Boone. Thank goodness. His cousin could always be counted on to pull his butt out of the fire. Clay turned away from Georgie and focused on his chief of staff. “What’s up?”

Boone had to clear his throat before speaking and he wouldn’t quite meet Clay’s gaze. The words that came out were strained as he tried to stifle his laughter. “Transport is waiting at the airport. We’ll head straight to the office. And you have an email from your sister-in-law.”

“Cassidy?”

“Only sister-in-law I’m aware of.”

“What about?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving?”

“Yes. As in, are we coming home for the holidays? A question also being asked repeatedly by my mother.”

“I don’t have time.”