His Assistant - Alexa Land Page 0,6
make sure everyone’s cared for.” While he was talking, Kel opened a canister on the black and white marble counter and gave Pepe a treat. The dog went right on growling as he chewed it up.
“Okay, great. I’m going to go see how Harper’s doing with his packing, because we have to leave in just a few minutes.”
Tristan asked, “What about lunch? I’ll be done with this vegan feast in about an hour.”
“Sorry, we need to hurry if we’re going to catch our flight.” Also, that was an alarming amount of kale, which really didn’t bode well for a so-called feast. I kept that observation to myself though and went upstairs to find my employer.
When I reached the open double doors to the master bedroom, I stopped in my tracks. Harper had just taken a shower, as evidenced by his damp hair, the wet towel on the floor, and the scent of soap and shampoo drifting in from the adjoining bathroom. He was also buck naked, and his back was to me.
Despite myself, I ran my gaze down his body and lingered on his absolutely perfect ass. Actually, every inch of him was perfection. He was a former football player, and he still worked out religiously to maintain his big, powerful build. Apparently he also sunbathed naked, because his golden skin tone was uninterrupted by tan lines.
When he turned to face me, I quickly directed my gaze upward, away from his cock. “We need to get going,” I said. “There weren’t a lot of flights available, and the one I booked is leaving in just under three hours.”
“We have plenty of time.” He held up two ties and asked, “Which of these should I pack to go with this suit?” A marina-blue suit was strewn on the bed, along with a few random articles of clothing.
“Take both ties, in case you need a backup.”
“Why would I need a backup tie?”
I shrugged and said, “I don’t know, just bring them. We still need to swing by my apartment so I can pack too, so put some pants on and let’s get moving.”
He pulled on a pair of skimpy white briefs, then got distracted by his pet chicken, who was too confused to get herself back out from under the bed. I sighed and took over the packing job, first by carefully hanging the suit and two white button-down shirts in a garment bag. Then I neatly folded the things he’d thrown onto the bed and layered them in his designer duffle bag.
Harper straightened up with the chicken in his arms just as I opened the nightstand, found a big box of condoms, and tossed it into the duffle. He grinned at me and joked, “Are you sure that’ll be enough for two nights in New York?”
I tossed a second box in with the first one as I shot him a look and said, “Probably not.”
“You totally think I’m a himbo.”
“A what?”
“A himbo. You know, like him plus bimbo.”
“You said it, not me,” I muttered. “Also, pants. Find some. Put them on.”
Eventually, he got dressed in a dark blue designer track suit, white T-shirt, and sneakers, and I herded him and his chicken downstairs and toward the front door. But he veered off when he saw Kel and gave him a very long and totally unnecessary lecture on how to take care of his pet, including naming everything Loco didn’t like. The other hens were at the top of the list. That was followed by an overwrought and emotional goodbye with the chicken. To be clear, Harper was the emotional one. Loco was as befuddled as ever and tried to eat the logo on his jacket.
While Harper and the poultry were having a moment, Hudson Royce came into the living room on a pair of crutches. He was an absolutely beautiful blue-eyed blond who was built like a tank and towered over his six-foot-two older brother. Even though he tended to be pretty sullen around most people, Hud and I had always just clicked for some reason. I gave him a hug and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Not really. I tore up my ankle and had to have surgery. Now I have no idea if I’m going to be ready for the pre-season.” He played pro football, and this was just the latest in a long series of setbacks.
We spoke for a few more seconds before Harper interrupted with, “Are we going or what? I thought we were in a hurry.” I told