As Long As You Love Me. Ann Aguirre

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As Long As You Love Me - Ann  Aguirre

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trying to hide it. The breakup must still be bothering her; she had been absolutely nuts about Mr. Hot Ginger. I’d never known a guy to make her skip work or blow off obligations. I’d answered her questions from before, so that meant she took it as clearance to ask new ones.

      So you’re applying to University of Nebraska? It’d be pretty awesome not to have to get up for classes. You can join lectures in your pajamas. Unless, will there be video? That could be awkward. Things here are suckish without you but there has been drunkenness. That’s the college deal, right? Work isn’t bad lately, but the practicum sucks. Do you miss us at all? Update me on the job situation! And oh, my God, you must be so bored if you’re hanging out with my brother. Don’t tell him he’s a crappy substitute for me! It would break his widdle heart.

      I laughed, then said out loud, “Oh, dude. I love you, Nadia, but no. Just...no.”

      Angus’s email was deliciously gossipy with details about some ongoing scandal related to Courtney, my replacement housemate, who apparently had both a druggie roommate in the dorms and a crazy ex. I replied to that, feeling like I was missing an awesome soap opera. Okay, maybe I did miss some things about Michigan. Sometimes I wanted to curl up with Angus and watch Project Runway so bad that my stomach hurt.

      * * *

      The next day, Rob showed up right on time, as promised. I had changed my outfit four times before settling on a black pencil skirt, white blouse and red jacket. With my hair up, I looked like I should be giving tours of the UN, but Rob actually stared. His eyes dropped, traveling slowly up my body like he’d never seen me before.

      “I wouldn’t hire you looking like that,” he said.

      “What? Why not?”

      “None of the guys in the office would get anything done for checking you out.”

      I grinned as he scooped me up to put me in the truck, just like he always did, but this time his hands lingered at my waist, and he didn’t step back immediately. A crackle of heat went through me as I opened my knees an inch wider, as much as the pencil skirt allowed, so the rough denim of his jeans brushed my legs, sexy even through my tights.

      “You realize that’s discrimination.”

      Gently, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. A shiver ran through me when I registered the rough pads of his fingertips against the tender skin of my neck. My lips parted; I’d never been so close to him in quite this way before. I wanted to curl my fingers into his belt loops and pull him all the way in, delve under his jacket and find out if his abs were as nice as I suspected. Rob, shirtless and sweaty, had fueled a lot of my private time over the years.

      “I was trying to boost your confidence. Apparently I’m not very good at it.”

      “No, it was great. I’ll take ‘too hot to hire’ over ‘sadly unqualified’ as the reason I don’t get the job.”

      “But you will,” he said. “They’d be crazy not to want someone so smart and capable handling their front desk.”

      “Thanks.” Before I could think better of it, I put my hand to his unshaven jaw and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

      Rob surprised me by taking the kiss on the mouth. So warm, sweetly chapped and rough against mine, and it took all of my self-restraint not to nip his lower lip, begging for more. In the end, it only amounted to a peck, but my heart raced like I’d run half a mile and my cheeks felt hot.

      He was smiling when he pulled back, his breath misting against my skin. “For luck.”

      Oh. My. God.

      My imagination went nuts, and I spent the drive envisioning what a real kiss from Rob would be like. Just the little touches were driving me crazy, teases that I never expected to bear fruit. My knees were still jellied when we arrived at the car dealership fifteen minutes later.

      Rob aimed a stern look my way. “Don’t move.” He ran around the truck and lifted me down. “Those shoes are sexy as fuck, but you’ll turn your ankle getting out.”

      They were chunky-heeled retro-pinup shoes, similar to Fluevog, but less expensive. As he wrapped his arms around me to lift me down, he was definitely checking them out, along with the curves of my calves. Unless it was wishful thinking, he was more physical than he had been before breaking up with Avery. I had no idea what was going on, but...hells, yeah. More, please. Breathing him in, I fought the urge to press closer. It would be a wonder if I could answer any questions inside.

      “Don’t worry, Lauren. You’ve got this.”

      “Thanks. See you soon.”

      Picking a careful path across the car lot, I stepped into the glass-fronted space and wiped my feet on the mat. The showroom was enormous with a couple of brand-new cars inside. A woman smiled at me from the front desk, and I headed her way.

      “May I help you?”

      “I have an interview with Mick Davies.” Checking the time, I added, “In ten minutes. I’m a bit early.”

      “He’ll appreciate that. I think he’s in a meeting with the sales team at the moment. You can sit over there if you like.” There was a round table with magazines on it, probably used by the salesmen when chatting with prospective customers. “Would you like some coffee? Water?”

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