Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i am reading a book TXT) 📗

Her snappy answer leaves me speechless.

She’s absolutely right. After Morgan, I knew only volatile pleasure. I didn’t even wish to go beyond that with anyone.

Not until Laia came along.

As if Laia can read my thoughts, she says, “You see? I think true intimacy is a major act of love. So, it shouldn’t be an alternate ending to a club night.”

How can this philosophical and charmingly innocent discourse sound so sexy from Laia’s lips?

I capture her eyes and try to channel all my admiration into my gaze. It’s too early to express what I feel for her. She could think I’m trying to play her to get my way with her, which couldn’t be further away from my intentions.

Okay, fine, I do long for her body, too—a lot. But it isn’t the reason I want Laia.

I’d like that real intimacy for us like she’s just described. For the first time in my life, I want to be with someone whose wit and values I admire and who understands and shares my hobbies.

A person who could be my soulmate, for all I know.

Laia stares at me with lips slightly parted, and she’s either perceiving my affection or our interlocked gaze stirs something in her, too, because her pupils dilate.

Her breathing becomes deeper. I can hear her heavy draws of air, despite her nieces’ content baby talk and the pulse slamming in my ears.

If I leaned in, my lips could press against her soft mouth. It would be so easy and so very satisfying.

But that’s not how I want our first kiss to be.

I don’t want to steal it from Laia in her moment of weakness. I’d like to do this properly. Maybe at a candle-lit dinner or something.

Like a hero worthy of her romance books.

So despite feeling like I’m tearing out my guts, I point at her nieces. “Shall we get them out of the sand and start walking back to the meeting spot with your sister?”

Laia blinks twice, then jumps up. “Ah, great idea. Yes. We need to head back. Alicia and Brian always take less time than they actually plan for. They think they want to be alone, but then they miss their kids so much, they hurry back to them. But that’s just normal parenting.”

My eyes dip to her lips.

Why can’t I stick to my resolution, dang it! I said I wouldn’t kiss her here, so I need to stop staring at her mouth.

To jumpstart my brain, I stand up and grab the tray. “I’ll throw this away. I’ll be back for the two angels in a sec.”

Laia smiles. “Good, because I think Mila and Sandy will want to be carried by you. I hope you won’t have back pain tomorrow.”

“No, the girls are feather-light. It’s a pleasure to hold them.” I grin.

I turn away before I can add that the one person I’m dying to hold is the little monkeys’ aunt.

As I walk to the bin, swaying the tray back and forth in my hand, my heart is filled with giddy optimism.

I could see that Laia wanted me to kiss her. Which means she might be starting to see that I could be that special person she’s waiting for.

Just as this thought crosses my mind, I know with absolute certainty that I want to be him.

I love Laia, and I would want nothing more than for her to love me back.

And I might just have the perfect stroke of genius about how I can stack the odds in my favor.

All I need is more time with Laia. Alone.

Chapter 36

(Laia)

I lift the grey carry-on to my bed and spread it open.

What shall I take for three days in Tucson?

Chelsea enters my room with a cocktail dress thrown over her arm and a smug expression.

“You’ve given me short notice, but I think I managed my mission. What do you think?” She lifts her purchase and holds it out to me. “Will this dress be suitable for the gala?”

“Oh, my gosh, Chels,” I squeak as my eyes travel to the pale-blue fabric that seems so soft I want to rub my cheeks against it. “You outdid yourself. If you ever need a fallback profession, being a personal shopper would be a career to consider. You’ve the most amazing taste!”

I don’t know where Chelsea found this attire, but it’s perfect. The A-lined delight looks comfy but chic at the same time. And, as always, Chelsea nailed my body shape and size.

My friend basks in my compliment but pretends to be modest. “Ah, it wasn’t that hard, after all.” Then she drops her act and grins. “I’m so glad you like it. And it’s totally in the budget you gave me.”

“You’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” I step over to her and give her a hug.

I called Chelsea this afternoon and begged her to come to my rescue after learning about Devon’s revised agenda for the CCF.

CCF stands for “Celebrating Creative Folks” and it’s a yearly gathering for hotshots who work in the advertising field. It’s mostly a networking event and is usually organized in breathtakingly fancy hotels.

I already knew he was participating after Katja made his hotel reservation my first day in the company. What I didn’t know, however, was that he would extend a last-minute request for me to join him on his trip.

Chelsea pouts her lips. “I think Devon should have given you more heads up. If I’d known sooner that you were going, I’d have ordered you the same pumps I have from Taryn Rose. They’re lightweight with responsive cushioning. You could wear them for twelve hours and not notice.”

“That’s okay,” I reassure my friend, “I’ll be fine in my own sandals.”

The truth is, I’d have loved to know about Devon’s change of plan earlier, too. But, as it appears, he kept Katja in the dark about it as well.

His secretary was just as surprised as I was when Devon broke the news to us this morning. Even more so, because Devon changed the reservation details himself