A Crazy Second Chance (McQueen Brothers #1) by Julia Evans

Author:Julia Evans [Evans, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-20T04:00:00+00:00

12

John

I can’t believe I just asked Lucy to come back to my apartment. What was I thinking?

Okay, I know exactly what I was thinking. What I’m still thinking, as I gaze at her in her sexy black dress, with her full lips painted red and her hair falling softly around her face. Her cheeks are flushed with alcohol and she has a loose, relaxed grin on her face. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her look so carefree, not even when we were kids.

It’s insanely sexy, and she’s driving me crazy.

To my shock, she agrees. But maybe it’s not so surprising after all. I could just be imagining it, but I feel like there’s something between us.

I have to be careful, though – I am, after all, her boss. I don’t want to put her in an uncomfortable situation or pressure her in any way. Not only because it would be an HR nightmare, but because I genuinely care about her. I know, as her boss, that I’m in a position of power over her and I don’t want to abuse that, especially when there is alcohol involved.

Maybe she’s just coming over as an old friend. Perhaps she really just wants to reminisce and look at old yearbook photos, like I suggested.

I’d be lucky to have her even as a friend, all things considered.

I resolve to tread lightly and not make the first move, if it even comes to that. Which it won’t.

“Let me just settle up at the bar,” I tell Lucy.

“I’ll come with you.” She grabs her bag and rises to her feet. It gives me another chance to look at her body in that tight dress again. At work, she usually dresses like a librarian, hiding her body under boxy blazers and flowy skirts. But now, I can see how lithe and fit she is. I want to grab her by the waist, run my fingers through her long hair, bite that pouty lower lip… but I shake my head to force the images out of my brain.

Not going to happen, I tell myself sternly.

We cross the few steps to the bar, and I notice a few heads turning our way. I can’t tell if they are looking at me, Lucy, or both.

“Here you go, McQueen.” The friendly bartender passes me the bill. He’s usually here when the team comes in for happy hour, and I’ve come in alone a few times to grab a beer and watch a game. We’ve gotten to know each other a bit, and he’s under strict instructions not to let any of my staff pay for their drinks when we’re here and to save the tab for me.

“Thanks, Joey,” I say, sliding over my credit card without even looking at the receipt. I try to do it smoothly, but Lucy must have seen the bill anyway.

“You paid for everyone?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” I reply casually, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I always do. I

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