His Pickle Her Jam (Cherry On Top Tales #4)

Chapter Six-Buck

Day 2 of Block Party Prepping (8 to go)

Yesterday went well. Very well.

But I’d spent a sleepless night tossing and turning and thinking about the curvy goddess with the flirty hair, attitude problem, and wicked smile.

This was not good.

We were competitors. Enemies. Two people on opposite sides vying for the same prize.

I couldn’t afford to think of Jan as anything other than my opponent.

You are a professional. Be professional. Focus on work.

And yet, images of when I kissed her lips were plaguing me. I couldn’t help but recall the way she tasted and quivered in my arms the one time I almost had her.

“Fuck,” I grumbled, grateful I’d arrived first.

Maybe if I started working, I could kill the boner currently trying to punch out of my shorts.

But that idea flew out the window when Jan bounced in right after me.

“Morning,” she said, and I was hard pressed to remember how to answer.

The little pink dress stopped well above her knees, giving me glimpses of pale, soft thighs as she walked. Flutter sleeves danced on her arms, and the low scoop neck revealed the creamy tops of her plump breasts.

Would it be wrong if I walked over to her and buried my face in her soft tits as a good morning?

Probably.

Fuck.

How the fuck am I supposed to work beside this woman without pitching an obvious tent for the next week and a half?