Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Thirty-Three

Eliza

Liam’s eyesnarrow on his laptop screen. “The property analysis sheet—the one you created—where’d you file it? I can’t find it anywhere.”

Laughing, I hop up to take over his computer. “For someone who knows where to find the best real estate deals in town, you really struggle with finding anything here at the office.”

He vacates his seat so I can slide in. “Don’t you know by now; I can’t function without you, woman.”

When I turn my head, looking at him over my shoulder, Liam sends me a playful wink.

Right. He’s just joking.

Obviously, he didn’t mean those words the way myears heard them. Obviously.

I find the requested document and return to my own seat while Liam slides back behind his computer.

He and I put our heads down and get to work on pushing the Varner deal through. It takes all of my willpower to ignore the swarm of butterflies fluttering throughout my middle when our bodies are this close.

Normally, there’s a whole team that handles a file of this size, but for some reason—and I can’t help but assume that reason is our undisclosed marriage—he’s kicked the rest of the department off the project.

It’s just the two of us doing all the heavy lifting, so today, we’re seated together in one of the smaller conference rooms with hoards of paperwork and construction blueprints and parcel records spread out between us.

Last night, I had a dream. My handsome boss barged into my apartment with the best chicken wings in town and shared a delicious dinner with me. We sat together in my tiny living room, laughing and sassing and bantering the night away before I fell asleep in a ball on my lumpy couch.

But then I woke up with a half-empty bottle of wine laying on the cushions next to me and a mess of dirty plates and takeout containers on my coffee table, the mild scent of expensive cologne still lingering in the air.

Nope, definitely not a dream.

Liam and I actually had a good time together. It’s shocking. Sure, things got a little hairy when he started questioning my past. But he dropped the topic quickly, so I think I dodged that bullet. For now.

I just wish I hadn’t fallen asleep. I wish I had stayed up all night talking to him. But one second we were chatting. The next, I was waking up to the sound of my morning alarm.

Liam hasn’t mentioned what happened. And if he’s not going to bring it up, neither am I.

I snap out of my thoughts when my husband-boss asks for my help finding another file on his computer.

I feign annoyance and I slip back into his chair. “I should start drawing you little treasure maps on sticky notes around your laptop. To help you find your documents easier.”

His deep chuckle wraps around me. “Or maybe you should rethink your filing system. Your intricate brain is the only one that can understand your complex organization techniques.”

A grin dances on my lips. I’ll take that as a compliment.

I put on a threatening expression as I pull up the file. “If you don’t stop complaining, I’m gonna go call up the ‘red crayon guy’ to come back and work as your assistant. What was his name again?”

I don’t purposely make things hard to find. Liam’s just too quick-tempered and impatient to search around in my organized subfolder system.

He flinches hard. “I’ll have to pass. You make a far more efficient assistant than Ross ever was.” He bites down on his bottom lip like he’s trying not to smile. “And you make a much prettier wife, too.”

My tummy flips around. Because as much as I try to tell myself that Liam is only joking around, I can’t help but feel that he’s…flirting.

No, he isn’t, Eliza. Jeez. Hopeful, much?

I focus hard on ignoring the swirling sensations in my belly, knowing deep down, Liam has no idea what he’s doing. No idea what effect it’s having on me.

I remain in his seat, adjusting formulas to the analysis as he spouts off different numbers. He leans over, caging me in as he focuses on the screen in front of us. I feel his warm breath on the back of my neck each time he speaks. My fingertips flutter across my sensitive neck. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn my hair in a ponytail today.

I’m typing a new round of figures into a spreadsheet when his fingers suddenly fall atop mine on the keyboard.

I freeze.

“Hey, what’s that?” his minty breath puffs in my ear.

“What’s what?”

“You’ve got an error in this cell. I think you entered that data in wrong.”

I frown, watching him out the side of my eye because if I turn my head fully, I’m pretty sure our lips would touch. Good lord. Why am I even thinking about that? The delicious scent of his cologne is the reason I can’t concentrate clearly. This is all his fault.

“I did not.”

“You did. Go back.” He removes his hand from mine, taking over the mouse and clicking around the page. His big body curls over mine, crowding me completely.

“Shit…” I mutter. Robo-Boss is right.

He chuckles, looking on as I correct the last three formulas I ran. “Are we gonna need to get you some glasses, woman?” His scalding hot palm lands on my bare shoulder. He squeezes gently. “Maybe that’s what we need to do since you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

My head whips around. I’m ready to give him shit for teasing me, but I catch the glittering look in his gorgeous eyes.

Maybe…maybe my crush isn’t as one-sided as I’ve always thought. Either that, or Liam is a phenomenal actor.

But even if he likes me, I can’t let him in. Because that would mean showing him all my ugly secrets. And I’m definitely not willing to do that.

“You’re mean. Don’t make fun of me,” I say, but it comes out all breathy. What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m not making fun of you. I think you’d look good in glasses.” His tone drops an octave, and my insides do a somersault. “It’d give you a sexy librarian vibe.”

I try to retort but I’m at a complete loss for words. I sit there internally counting down the seconds until I lose my cool, grab him by the collar and shove my tongue in his mouth.

Movement on the other side of the glass wall catches my eye. My attention darts that way and I see Desiree walking past the conference room. Her footsteps slow. I go tense as my coworker’s curious stare darts to me and my secret-husband-boss.

My tummy clenches for a different reason.

This is bad.

I immediately straighten and wriggle my way out of Liam’s seat, forcing his hand that was still gripping my shoulder to fall. I back away, putting as much distance as possible between me and this dangerous man.

I feel his eyes on me as I hurriedly circle the table and fall into my seat. “You okay?” he asks, eyebrow arched.

Instead of meeting his eyes, I busy myself in paperwork. “Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention. The last thing I need is everyone around here gossiping. I don’t want people assuming that I’m sleeping my way into a promotion. Or a raise. Or that I’m just here to fill Liam’s not so legitimate needs.

I need this job. I like this job. And I have to be more careful. Unless I want to have to start all over.

Again.