Built For Love

Built For Love Chapter 6

“That’s what I said.” His lips twitch like he’s trying to not laugh. “Like I was saying, he’s big and scary and totally obsessed with me so he tracks my location.” I hold up my phone. “Can’t say that I blame him.” I nod. “I’m glad we got that all cleared up. So your plans of murder are dead in the water.” Now I sound like the crazy one. “Okay. Lunch and then we’ll get that contract signed.”

“I suppose.” I fold my arms over my chest. If this is really a job interview I’m failing miserably. It’s also the weirdest job interview ever. He

pulls into a parking lot, finding a space. I look around, wondering where we are. My offices.” He points to the four-story building. He hops out, coming around the truck to open the door for me. I hop down.

“I’m not sure I’m dressed for an interview or whatever this is.”

“A date? We are having lunch.”

“No, I’m not dressed for a date either.” I’m in flip flops, shorts, and my old high school volleyball shirt.

“I think you look fine.”. “Well, I don’t think fine is what a girl is going for when she goes on a date.” Wait a minute. Didn’t I just tell him that I had a boyfriend? How can

he think that this is a date? What kind of girl does he think I am?

“Well, if I’m being honest, I f*****g love the shorts because I can’t stop

staring at your legs. Then I start thinking about them over my shoulders.” “Over your shoulders?” What does that even mean? “Oh!”

“Like I was saying—” I slap my hand over his mouth. I stare up at him now I’m thinking about

my legs over his shoulders. “I’m going to drop my hand and you’re going to zip it.” He nods. I pull my hand away, which he’s smiling behind. “That wasn't very professional of you if this is a job interview.” “Was just trying to be honest.” He reaches over, shutting the truck door for me. “Shall we?”

“I suppose.” He puts his hand on my back, leading me into the building.

“Mr. Underwood.” The older man in the security uniform gives him a

smile as we enter the building.

“How’s Missy? Did she have your grandson yet?” The man’s whole face lights up. “Soon hopefully. She’s about to pop.” He hits the button on the elevator for us. “This is my Pepper. I’m sure you’ll be seeing her around more. Pepper, this is Sam. If you ever need to know anything, he’ll somehow know it.” He

holds his hand out for me to take. Did he just say I was his? I should get annoyed, but his words have the opposite effect on me. Belonging to

someone doesn't sound so bad.

“Is he always pushy?” I nod my head towards Abel. “Sometimes you have to be a little pushy. It’s how I got my June to agree to marry me.” The elevator doors slide open and Abel ushers me on with his hand still on my back. “It was nice to meet you. Congrats on the baby,” I rush to say as the doors slide closed. “He was nice.” I look up at Abel. “You not so much.” You wound me.” He puts his hand on his chest in a dramatic gesture, making me snort a laugh. I don’t think I’m supposed to enjoy sparring with him as much as I am. I think I might actually be having a good time. Better than sitting in my place and eating popcorn for lunch that I likely burned. “What are you thinking for lunch? Burgers or maybe Chinese?” “Pizza?” I suggest. My stomach growls in agreement. I turn my head away from Abel, a little embarrassed that my stomach sounded like a volcanic eruption.

“I love pizza.” The doors open. “Going to order it now since you seem

to be hungry.” “I’m not dying or anything. I just have a talkative stomach.” Am I really making excuses for my stomach? What is it about this guy that has me saying all these weird things? “I’m starving.” He stares at me. Is he thinking about my legs over his shoulders again? Is that why he’s starving? My entire body heats with the thought of his head between my thighs. “Is your mind in the gutter, Pepper? I thought you had a boyfriend.” “What? My mind isn't anywhere. The only thing I’m thinking about is that I want extra cheese.” “Who is this?” A blond supermodel comes strolling our way. She has heels on that would kill me. She’s all put together looking chic in a way that I could never pull off.

“This is Pepper.” The woman offers me a bright smile. I noticed this time he didn't say my Pepper. I tell myself I do not care. “I’m Marist. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I hold my hand out and she takes it.

“I’m going to be hiring Pepper on. She’s a designer like you.” Is there a

hint of pride in Abel’s voice? “I saw some of her work and I knew I had to snatch her up before someone else got their hands on her.”

“Really?” I knew we wanted to hire me, but him saying it like that

makes me feel all warm inside.

“Of course.” “I would love to see it too whenever you have a chance. I think I’m going to enjoy watching this.” Watching this. What is that supposed to mean? “And working with you.” She winks at me before walking off. I’m noticing that’s a thing with the people here. She was nice too.” “She is,” he agrees. “Joel,” he calls out. “Here. Sir.” A short man in a suit pops his head out of an office. His eyes go straight to me, giving me a curious look “Pizza from the place on the corner. Extra cheese.” Abel looks down at me. “Something to drink?” “Root beer.” He smirks, shaking his head at me. “And a root beer. No calls, I'll be busy.” He pulls open a door for me. “Are you two dating?” They actually did look like they could go together. She actually went up to Abel’s chin. I barely hit the center of his chest. They’d have that whole Barbie and GI Joe thing going on. That thought sours my mood. “Joel isn't really my type.” I roll my eyes at him. “No, Marist and I have never been together, nor will we ever be.” “She shot you down, huh?” I look around the office. I’m guessing it’s his. It’s nice. Plain but functional. It could use some color, but I always think that. “I could have made her my fake girlfriend. We could have double dated

tonight.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I drop down in one of the oversized chairs in front of the giant glass desk. “She’s for my partner. Whenever he finally makes a move.” Abel goes over to his desk, pulling out a pen and notepad before taking the other oversized chair. Well, for him it’s more of a normal sized chair. He flips the pad open. “Now. Name your price.” Did that sound dirty or was it just me? Now I’m the one who needs to get my mind out of the gutter.