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Oh, shit! There’s a spot!

It’s down the next aisle, so I race around the corner and I’m about to turn in when a truck flies down from the other direction and sneaks in front of me to get the spot. I glare at the driver, not that he can see me through the nearly black tint on the windows of his black truck. I glare at the license plate instead, CM98, and I’m about to wait for this asshole to get out of the truck so I can throw some words at him, but that’s not really me, and I’m already late anyway.

I sigh, make one more loop of the parking lot, and end up driving to the buildings next door to try to find a spot there.

I do, and now I’m running late. It’s no wonder that I’m panting as I race into the building, jab the elevator button, and eventually slide into the meeting that’s already been in progress for a full five minutes.

Everleigh pauses in her speech as she pins me with a glare. “You’re late.”

“I’m so, so sorry. Some asshole in a black truck took the last spot, and I had to par—”

I freeze as my eyes edge over to the new client who I should not have sworn in front of…and then it registers who the client is.

My already racing heart feels like it might possibly race right out of my chest.

Said client stands and grins at me. “Hi. I’m the asshole in the black truck. Cash Maddox. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He extends a hand for me to shake, and I’m still frozen.

Oh. My. God.

Jesus Christ.

He’s just as gorgeous here in this office as he was the other night. I don’t have the vodka goggles on now, and my God.

He’s not wearing the backward hat. I can see his hair, and it’s thick and luscious and begging for my fingertips.

I reach my hand out to connect with his, and something happens when our hands touch.

“Ivy Bradley. I’m Everleigh’s assistant.” My heart beats even faster, and my stomach is doing cartwheels, and this nervous energy keeps climbing up my back. I drop his hand quickly, afraid it might burn me or something.

“Wha…wha…” I’m trying to spit out what are you doing here, but my brain short-circuits again. What the hell? Why can I not speak in his presence? What is this? I’m normally confident and cool, but this guy just completely misaligns my entire world.

And why is this room twelve thousand degrees hotter than usual?

I pull at the top of my light blue dress in order to try to create a bit of a breeze for myself.

“You had time for Starbucks and not for parking?” Everleigh asks.

Right. Pull it together, Ivy.

I suck in a deep breath and clear my throat as I look at my sister. “I’m so, so sorry.” I take a sip of my iced coffee, the cold liquid a relief to my entirely scorching body.

Cash sits, and an amused smile seems to lift his lips. “That truck, her name’s Silvia.” He leans back in his chair and sits away from the table, crossing one leg over the other and resting his ankle on his knee. It’s casual, and the way he leans back speaks to his confidence.

I sit, too, and I’m trying to get my wits about me again. I’m tucked under the table, leaning forward. My body just leans in naturally toward him even though we’re across the table from each other, and I can’t seem to peel my eyes away from him.

Why is he here? What the hell is going on? Why didn’t I know he was our nine o’clock? And why, oh why, for the love of all things good and holy, why didn’t I put a little more effort into my appearance this morning?

“Silvia?” Everleigh echoes.

“She’s a Silverado,” he says. “A ZR2 Bison, to be exact. Silverado, Silvia. It just worked.”

Everleigh tilts her head. “Why a Silverado? A guy like you could have any car or truck he wants. I don’t peg you as a Silverado guy, to be honest.”

He chuckles and shrugs, that little smile still lifting his lips. Lips I want to kiss. Lips I want to watch as they close around my nipple.

Okay, Ivy. Calm down.

Jeez. This is ridiculous.