Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,35
to cheer on the others. She holds back a moment when Xavier’s wife tries to find a handhold.
“She’s quite the woman,” our senior partner comments.
“She is.” I glance at the timer, then back up at her.
Daisy is taking the lead now, finding tougher, riskier spots to ascend.
Xavier goes to cheer on his wife, and Holt comes over to me. “I underestimated you.”
“How so?”
“This.” He nods toward Daisy. “There’s no way you’ve been working like you have and kept her up your sleeve the entire time. She’s too… perfect.”
“Eyes on your own wife, Holt,” I say softly. “Or this thing between us is going to get personal.”
Cheers go up and we look at the wall, where Daisy’s at the top. I shake my head and hit Stop.
“What was my time?”
I tell her, and she beams. “Don’t get cocky. We still have to go.”
From the distance, I see her roll her eyes in dismissal before going to help the other women get to the top.
After they come back down and we switch spots, Daisy comes over, flushed and triumphant. “Get your platinum card ready.” She reaches back to tug the elastic from her hair.
My hand closes around hers and I do it for her, twisting the silky strands around my hand. “No way.”
She retrieves her phone from me, setting the timer with a raised brow. I tug on her hair once before stepping back, tossing her a cocky grin before heading to the wall.
“Ready? Set? Go!”
I start my climb, Holt on one side and Xavier on the other. This is a competition, albeit not the main one.
Partway up, I glance over my shoulder and see Daisy on her phone, typing something. A bit of my focus slips, and my hand does too.
I drop, the cord holding me snapping tight. Fuck.
“You good over there?” Holt calls.
“Great. Thanks,” I bite out, refocusing on my work.
It’s Holt who gets to the top first, and Daisy calls time.
“How’d we do?” my partner wants to know as we head back to the floor.
“It was an exceptional effort,” Xavier’s wife says solemnly.
“And?” Xavier asks.
“And you lost by twenty-five seconds,” Holt’s wife tells us.
Groans go up.
“Can’t believe this,” I mutter. “You’ll be crowing about this all through dinner.”
“We will, but not to you.” Daisy holds out a hand. “Card.”
“Huh?”
“We’re going for dinner. There’s a table for three waiting for us. You gentlemen can go wherever you want. Ladies,” she comments to the wives, “I’ll see you at eight.”
They voice agreement and delight before heading past us for the change rooms.
Unbelievable.
“You played me,” I accuse as Daisy and I start toward the doors together, in no particular hurry.
“No. You wanted Xavier to see you in a new light, and he did. But in talking with Amy and Tania”—she gestures to the change room—“I learned that you men end up talking work over dinner anyway. So rather than feign interest, we’ll leave you to it and go to dinner ourselves. Amy runs a nonprofit, and Tania was an executive at one of the largest restaurant chains in the world. Which is how we scored the reservation. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to talk about.”
I can’t decide if I want to kiss her or strangle her.
Possibly both.
Instead, I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me. Neither of us is crazy sweaty, but she’s warm, and I love the heat of her body mixing with mine.
“You were unbelievable,” I murmur against her hair. “I couldn’t have been more proud if you were my girl for real.”
“Well, I haven’t been here in a while because of work. It feels good to get back at it. It was fun.”
But as I pull back, fun doesn’t feel like the right word. It was challenging and fascinating. Like a high I never expected, and now that I’ve felt it, I crave more.
Could I be the perfect boyfriend for a month? The question comes out of nowhere. It’s tantalizing because it's the one mountain I haven't climbed, the one challenge I haven't conquered, and one far more interesting than the one we just completed.
If some part of me wants to do it for the way she’s looking at me, to make her eyes shine even brighter, to make her feel proud and happy every second she’s with me like I am with her…
Then I guess that’s life.
“I’m taking you out,” I decide. “I’ll pick you up at the office tomorrow for a real dinner.”
She balks. "We never do dinner. You hate extra meals in restaurants