Had To Make You Mine Page 4

  I nodded, and Jake went back to his office, coming back and tossing an orange above his head before catching it.

  A strange feeling of panic caused my palms to sweat and my tie to feel too restricting.

  Oranges? Anna?

  It couldn’t be the same person. She had a double name, right? Anna Grace? Anna Marie? Anna Lynn? Thoughts buzzed around my brain like frenzied murder hornets on a mission while Jake walked over and put the orange beside her keyboard. Charleston was a decent-sized town, too big for it to be the same person.

  “Her friend owns the bakery down the street, so she brings coffee almost every day. The least I can do is bring her favorite fruit,” he said with a smile, putting his hand in his pocket to take out his phone.

  “What did you say her name was again?” I said, dreading the answer. Please no.

  “Anna. Annaleigh Mackey.”

  Oh. Fuck. Me. This was bad. This was a nuclear explosion from a volcano under Yellowstone National Park. Oranges. Blue.

  “You alright Max,” Jake asked, pulling me out of my panic.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I replied, my throat dry and scratchy. I needed water or a shot. Possibly both.

  “Alright, I have an eight o’clock call. Boardroom at nine for introductions.”

  And with that, Jake walked back to his office and shut the door.

  I stood in the spot between our offices for what felt like an eternity, staring at that stupid orange. It was mocking me. There was now an almost blinding panic making my pulse race and my throat get impossibly drier. I did the only appropriate thing I could think of to do. I went to my office and shut the door.

  Oranges.

  I swear I could still smell them through the shut door while trying to get my panic under control. But that was stupid—you couldn’t smell unpeeled oranges. I paced back and forth, pissed that I had to adjust my cock twice in the process. He must have missed the memo that she was off-limits. So off-limits. Suck it up, apologize, move on. Don’t think about seeing her, being close to her, touching her.

  Goddamnit, there went my cock again. I grabbed a water bottle from the table and drank it down, then cracked my neck and walked to my office door. It might not be her. This was the South. Everyone had a double fucking name. I started to doubt my sanity as I slowly opened the door, praying I was wrong.

  Nope. I wasn’t wrong.

  Not. At. All.

  There she was—a vision in a black pencil skirt, white blouse, and sapphire blue heels. She stood with her back to me, putting away something in the cabinet behind her. Her blue bikini was nothing compared to how her ass filled out that skirt. The curve of her neck was beautiful, and I was mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips as she moved around her workspace. And was she wearing thigh-high panty hose? Oh God, sheer black thigh-highs with a back-seam.

  I was teetering between anger and arousal. How could the woman I haven’t been able to get out of my head be here? It had to be some sort of sick test of my willpower, my willingness to take this new opportunity seriously. I should be indifferent and standoffish. She couldn’t know how much she’d gotten under my skin.

  Her light blonde hair was in a low loose bun, and when she turned around, I saw the moment she made the connection. Her smile went from welcoming and warm to confused, and finally, her eyes narrowed, and she stepped towards me with a stern, unreadable expression.

  “Good morning, Annaleigh. I’d like to introduce myself.”

  I held my hand to hers, unashamed to admit I was looking for an excuse to touch her. She had the most adorable crinkles between her eyebrows as she looked back at me, taking her lower lip in her mouth again, just like at the beach. It made me want to bite that lip and taste her mouth.

  What? This was going to be a problem. A big fucking distraction. I had to apologize, then shut it down and push whatever feelings I had away.

  But her eyes. All it took was one look at her eyes, and I lost my train of thought.

  “Hello,” she started, tilting her head to the side and meeting my eyes.

  Jake chose that moment to walk over and break up whatever the fuck was happening. He eyed the bakery bags on her desk, unaware of the sheer panic on my face.

  “Morning, Anna. Good weekend? Would you please…”

  “Hi, Jake. Yes, thank you. I’ll head down to IT to pick up Mr…”

  “Maxwell Jackson, but please call me Max,” I said, putting as much emphasis on the please as humanly possible. I gritted my teeth as she took me in, and her eyes narrowed, with an emotion I couldn’t read. Not that I should be able to read any emotion she had.

  “Mr. Jackson’s computer.”

  She paused as if she was deliberately ignoring me. Her gaze was focused and intense and on anything but me after she gave me that initial once over. Clearly, she was not intimidated by an asshole in a Tom Ford suit.

  “Here’s your tea, Jake. Liv got in a Rose Earl Grey I thought you would want to try. But I brought an extra Maharaja Blend if you’re not crazy about it.”

  She gave Jake that welcoming smile that I wanted all to myself as she handed him the tea.

  “Mr. Jackson, I brought an extra latte for you. Please let me know your morning beverage preference for tomorrow. Jake, here’s a blueberry muffin.”

  Handing him the bag, he gave her a big smile as he sat the bag on her desk and took a sip.

  “This is good, but do you have your…”

  “Sure, here’s the orange blossom honey,” she said, reaching in her desk and still looking anywhere but at me.

  “Thanks,” Jake said, taking the bag, tea, and honey back to his office. He shut the door, bringing the tension back up to nuclear.

  “I have an orange scone and danish. If you’re interested, please help yourself.”

  She turned, shook that beautiful blonde hair I wanted to tangle my fingers in, and walked away.

  “Wait, Annaleigh,” I said, but she stepped around me and kept walking.

  I followed her as she walked, keeping my eyes on those blue heels. Reaching out, I touched her shoulder, startling her as she walked inside an empty office without turning around. When we both were in, she turned to look at me and opened that sweet mouth.

  I interrupted, knowing I needed to get this out before she could say anything. My father always said apologizing was a weakness, but she deserved one. This was the last thing I needed my first day, and the last thing I needed with this move, a distraction.

  “I owe you an apology. I was out of line that day at the beach and shouldn’t have insinuated you were only after a casual fling.”

  “Fuck, Mr. Jackson, a fuck.”

  “Right, a casual fuck. Fuck, Blue. Anna, please call me Max. I apologize for the way I acted on Saturday. I’ve been looking forward to starting here, and I hope we can move past this and have a mutually professional relationship without being immature. My being immature, I mean. Not you. You were not immature. I mean, if we can’t move past this, we both would be immature, right?”

  I was rambling now, trying to build a bridge between our new working relationship. But I was clenching my jaw so hard my teeth were going to crack. Hearing her say fuck had my cock twitching again in my pants. I shouldn’t have said immature, but this had to stay professional. If that meant bringing my asshole out, so be it—anything to keep her siren’s call from tempting me.

  She was the picture of confidence in those ridiculous sky-high heels but still had to look up to meet my eyes. It was hard not to smile, so I did and could immediately see the mistake as her eyes flashed fire.

  “Immature? Immature? You know what, Mr. Jackson? Max.”

  She paused in her brutal word assault, and I knew she hadn’t heard my rambling. “You don’t owe me a damn thing. I may have been quiet Saturday, but I wasn’t blind. Our relationship will be strictly professional, and seeing you on that bea
ch has already been forgotten. I’m going to head down for your computer. I’ll have it set up shortly. Please help yourself to the latte. And Max, call me Annaleigh.”

  She turned around and walked away, leaving me speechless. Well, almost.

  “I should have gone out with you that night,” I called after her. Where had that come from?

  She stopped and bowed her head before looking over her shoulder. She opened her mouth to respond but didn’t. Turning back around, she took the scent of oranges with her as she walked away. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed, but I had the sudden urge to call after her again and tell her she was all I’d thought about this weekend. But like a stubborn asshole, I let her walk away.

  - 5 -

  LET ME PERISH

  Annaleigh

  And all I could say was, hello…

  Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

  It was a sign.

  And not just a sign. It was a neon pink flashing sign on a dark, starless night that said, look here, dumbass.

  His voice was growly and deep, like sleet on a tin roof, and his suit was perfectly tailored to every inch of his body. How was he here? How was that him, just as attractive as I remembered. And what did he mean when he said he should have gone out with me?

  I was normally not one for fantasizing, but that was exactly what I did all weekend long. Broody McAsshole. Max. Maxwell. The name suited him. He smelled like spicy sandalwood and was wearing a vest that hugged his broad chest and sexy, round, tortoiseshell glasses that framed his face.

  He was exactly the kind of man I didn’t want to deal with, an asshole, a bad attitude, an alpha. But then he said he should have gone out with me, and I melted. Melted. That neon sign was back and flashing again, this time with the words Danger Ahead, but all my stupid brain could see was the vulnerability in his eyes.

  I took a few deep breaths, twirled my hair around one finger, and put a hand on my stomach, trying to calm my pulse while I walked down to IT. I had to stay professional. There wasn’t another option unless slapping the word immature right out of his mouth counted. I needed to put on my big girl panties and step up the civility after I stopped sweating and unstuck my skirt from my butt cheeks. A thong was not the smart choice today. Was butt deodorant even a thing? Probably not.

  Maybe he was a narcissistic asshole with the personality of a wet mop and a dick the size of a Tic-Tac. Immature my ass. At least I wasn’t an uptight jerk with a smart mouth. But it didn’t matter, and we needed a hard reset. We were going to be working closely together, so we had to have an open line of communication. We couldn’t spend each day tiptoeing around each other.

  With my pep-talk complete, I got back to Max’s office while he was still meeting the board members and executives. I connected his laptop to the docking station, put an extra monitor in his office, and then linked his calendar to my phone. I set a daily recurring morning meeting with the two of us then another to include Jake every afternoon.

  My list of customers Max needed to reach out to this morning was almost finished when the meeting ended. Almost everyone looked pleased and was shaking Max’s hand. Except for Raymond, but that was a whole other can of worms. Max walked by and hit me with a panty-melting smile, motioning me to his office. I plastered a professional one on my face and stood up with a nod, grabbing my tablet.

  “How were introductions?” I said, following him in and partially closing the door.

  “Mostly positive, except for one. Roger? Ruban?” he said, walking toward the small table and chairs that were in his office.

  He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned for me to take a seat. I crossed my legs, pretending not to notice how his eyes glided down my body as he was pulling out the opposite chair.

  “Was it Raymond?” I said, trying to dissipate the desire I felt from his gaze.

  He nodded, taking off his glasses to clean them on his tie. Clark Kent had nothing on Maxwell Jackson.

  “What’s Raymond’s deal? Does he always act like a dickhead to new people in the office, or should I feel special?” Max said, leaning forward to put his elbows on the table.

  It was important for people to make conclusions on their own, but Max needed to know about this guy since he was already picking up on the negativity and got a less than warm welcome.

  “How honest would you like me to be?” I said, biting my lip and tapping my stylus on the table.

  “Give it to me straight, Blue.” Raising my eyebrows with the nickname, he quickly backtracked and said, “Um, Annaleigh. Please.”

  “Okay. Raymond was hoping his son, Benjamin, a Junior Credit Officer, would get your position. He constantly questions all of Jake’s decisions and generally opposes anything he puts to a vote. Raymond thinks because he was one of the board’s founding members, his son should be guaranteed a place, and everyone should give them both special treatment.”

  Max’s eyebrows got higher as I spoke, nodding with the words. “You look like you want to say more Annaleigh, what else do I need to know about him?”

  “Well,” I said, “He’s a sexist jerk to all the admins. And his son is a twatwaffle.”

  Max snorted. It was an extremely unsexy sound, and I was going to have to remember it the next time he had me all hot and bothered.

  “A twatwaffle? Wow. Is that a technical term?” Max said, leaning towards me and spreading his legs to put his elbows on his knees.

  “No, an immature one,” I deadpanned, looking at him for a reaction.

  I gave him a big smile, and before I knew it, we were both laughing. Oh my, his laugh. Forget the way he filled out that suit or the golden-brown shade of his eyes—his laugh had my clenching my thighs and blushing like a teenager with a crush.

  “Good to know, and thank you for the honesty. It’s a shame to say I am extremely familiar with his type. And now I know I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, especially when you throw around words like twatwaffle.”

  Max let out a barely-there sigh and shook his head with one more smile. “Do you normally talk about executives like that?”

  I smiled and took a breath. No. I most definitely did not talk about executives or board members like that. But something about Max made me want to open up, warn him about Raymond, and protect him. Plus, I would do about anything to see him smile like that again. Something told me he didn’t do that nearly enough.

  “No. But I think honesty is important for our working relationship, and if that means giving you my opinion in less than professional terms, so be it. Would you rather I tell you to ask Raymond to lunch to try and win him over?” I said, crossing my arms.

  “No, I’m glad for the honesty. But I hope I never get on your bad side.”

  Checkmate. He narrowed his eyes and mimicked my pose, crossing his arms and leveling me with a glare that brought the temperature in the room down ten degrees.

  I narrowed my eyes, preparing to put him in his place, but then stopped and put my hands up.

  “Before this gets out of hand, let’s do a hard reset. We are going to be working closely together, and we can’t spend every day in a verbal sparring match. I get that we had a less than stellar start, but seriously, Max.”

  I could see him mulling the words over and grinding his jaw. He wanted to say more. He looked like he was itching for an argument, itching for a way to keep me at arm’s length. I didn’t blame him, it was the smart thing to do, but something kept me from pushing back.

  “I agree,” he said, holding his hand out for me to shake. “My name is Maxwell Jackson. I left Chicago and moved down here a few weeks ago. I enjoy building things with my hands, listening to classic rock, and running on the beach. I prefer coffee to tea, books to movies, and my biggest pet peeve is dishonesty.”

  I smiled. It was hard not to and took his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Max. My name is Annaleigh Mackey. I’m a South C
arolina native and dog-mom to a judgmental boxer named Baxter. I listen to all music with a particular love for Shock Rock and Country. I’m a damn good assistant, and I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you are successful here. I also enjoy both tea and coffee, gardening, romance books, and my biggest pet peeve, I guess, would be the same. Oh, and people who chew with their mouth open.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Annaleigh,” he said, emphasizing the word pleasure and looking down to where we were still shaking hands. With one gentle squeeze, he let go and met my eyes.

  “Here,” I said, holding out my hand. I needed to keep my hands busy, or else I’d reach out and touch him again. “Give me your phone. I’ll sync everything for you.”

  “So, you’re saying you want to keep tabs on me?” Max said, adjusting his cufflinks.

  “Pardon?” I said, not looking up.

  I added my number and sent myself a text so I’d have his. I couldn’t meet his eyes, biting my bottom lip as my fingers flew across his screen. All I could think about was how he said the word pleasure.

  “Nothing,” he replied.

  Wait. What did I miss? Two hours into working with him and I was already distracted.

  Once it was synced, I handed the phone back to him, and it rang. He looked down and said with a frown, “Please excuse me. I need to take this.”

  Nodding, I stood up and walked out, shutting his door. I sat down at my desk and could see him pace the office through the frosted glass

  Gah! While he was occupied, I grabbed my phone and quickly fired several texts to our group chat.

  Annaleigh: MAYDAY MAYDAY!

  Olivia: What happened, all okay?

  Addison: ...

  Annaleigh- BROODY MCASSHOLE is the new Senior VP!

  Addison: This is GREAT NEWS!

  Addison: Holy Shit!

  Annaleigh: WHY IS THIS GREAT??

  Olivia: What the hell?? Hot beach guy with the drool-worthy six pack and personality of a douchecanoe?

  Addison: You were JUST saying how much he got under your skin… Now’s your chance to get under him!