Charming Co-Worker - Jeannine Colette Page 0,53

with a Cheshire cat grin.

Branson is never this playful. It’s adorable beyond measure.

I exhale and nod my head. “Okay.”

“Great.” He lifts my gym bag off the floor by the coat rack and places his hand on my back to guide me out of the office.

Branson’s car is waiting in the garage, and when he opens the door for me, a funny feeling runs through my body. For years, I wanted this, exactly what’s happening right now. I’m getting in Branson’s car, after work, to go somewhere with him that’s not work-related, yet I can’t understand what’s going on in my mind. I’m excited even though I know I shouldn’t be. I’m with Hunter. It might not be official, but I slept with the man, and I do not jump into bed with men willy-nilly.

“Everything okay, love?” Branson asks.

I jump, startled for some reason, and turn to him. I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost forgot where I was. “Yeah. Sorry, just tired, I suppose.”

I smooth my outfit down my body, wiping my now-sweaty palms on my dress slacks. Branson widens his legs as he leans back in the seat.

“I missed you on Christmas Eve. We had a great time at the club,” he says.

“You dance?” I ask.

“Not really. I enjoy the music and the company. It would have been better if you had been in the booth with me.”

I smash my lips together. “Perhaps another time.”

His smile broadens, and those pristine, gleaming white teeth that make him so damn handsome light his face up even more. “I’d like that very much.”

We make it to the Athletic Club and walk through the lobby. Branson shows me where the women’s locker room is, and he understated it when he mentioned the steam shower. This place has all the luxuries of a high-end gym. There are walnut-colored lockers prettier than my kitchen cabinets, personal steam stalls, and vanities that are stacked with beauty products. There are even massage rooms, many of them in use.

I change into my workout gear—black yoga pants and a sports tank top that shows off my lower midriff. I tie my sneakers and place my bag in a locker.

The gym is a level above, overlooking the indoor pool. I hit up the elliptical for twenty minutes and then do some light circuit training.

When I’m done, I head downstairs, grab my bag from the locker room, and walk around in search of the racquetball courts. The sounds of sneakers screeching against a court are loud as I walk down a hall. Men are standing in the doorway, watching a match. Up above, I see a viewing platform with people hanging out.

Inside the court, Hunter is whacking the ball with his racket, making it pop against the wall as it ricochets back with force.

Branson is leaning against the wall, watching Hunter play.

“I thought you two played together?” I ask as our eyes volley along with the guys.

“We’re in the singles playoffs tonight. I won the last game. Whoever wins this round will play me in the championship,” he states.

I whistle. “I didn’t know it was so competitive.”

“You have no idea,” Branson states just as Hunter runs for the ball, hitting it across the court, making it touch the wall just in bounds and bouncing it back to where his opponent can’t get to it.

Hunter wins the game. As he wipes the sweat from his brow, he shakes hands with the man he was playing against and then turns toward the door.

When his eyes land on me, he acts confused.

“What are you doing here?” he asks in disbelief. His gaze roams toward Branson and then to me, eyeing my gym attire.

“Branson invited me to see the playoffs.”

He squints his eyes at Branson and then turns back to me. “I’m glad he did. I see you got a workout in as well. Good for you.”

Branson extends a hand to Hunter. “Well-played match. I look forward to whooping your ass out there. Hope you’re not too worn out.”

Hunter shakes his hand. “Just getting started. See you out there.” His joke makes Branson laugh as he walks away to his side of the court.

I bite my lip as I glance down at my hands. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I was heading home and—”

“Hey.” He leans in and lifts my chin. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ll get to impress you with my athleticism. Though it might be awkward when I kick Branson’s ass in front of the girl he’s trying to impress.”

He