Cheat Codes (Dawson Family 1) - Page 12

“There’s an open bar,” Charlene tells us. “And after this, a bunch of us are going out for more drinks.”

“Sounds fun,” Tyler says. Rene transfers the call and comes out from behind the desk. “What do you guys do?”

“Well, we answer the phones,” Rene tells him and leads the way into the office. Music comes from the back, and people are gathered around a makeshift bar. “So nothing too exciting. Not like surgery, I bet!” She giggles. “But this place is a software company.”

“Software?” I ask. There’s no way. There are tons of software companies in the city.

“Yeah. Don’t ask me to explain it because I can’t. The nerds design programs or whatever.” She slows a bit, looking down the hall into an office with a large, glass door. “Speaking of nerds, my boss is still working, so let’s get this party started early!”

I can’t remember the name of the company Quinn works for, and before I can ask, the name on the large glass door comes into view.

Quinn Dawson.

I do a double take and catch a glimpse of her brunette ponytail. Taking a step back, I see her sitting behind her desk with a smile on her face. She leans back in her chair, laughing.

And then he moves in, sitting on the edge of her desk. She points to something on the computer screen in front of her, and he leans closer before turning to face her. The smile broadens on her face and she blushes.

I have no idea what’s actually going on. All I know is it’s making me want to Hulk out and flip tables. Quinn isn’t mine. She has no idea how much I want her, or how long I’ve wanted her at that.

And yet I’m instantly jealous to see her with another man.

Goddammit. She’s so much more than a piece of ass to me and it’s about damn time I admit it to myself: I’m in love with her.

And now I’m standing in her office, walking next to her bitchy secretary who’s insulted her more than once in the little amount of time I’ve spent with her. I need to get out, or at the very least, away from Rene.

I don’t want to mess this up any more than I already have.

But it’s too late because Quinn looks up and stares right at me.

9

Quinn

“You have got to be kidding me.” I blink. Once. Twice.

Archer Jones is still there. He’s staring back at me, and good Lord, that man looks fine as hell in that navy blue suit. His dark hair is a little messy, and the scruff on his face enhances the strong, masculine features.

I’m instantly turned on. And equally annoyed. What the hell is he doing here?

“Quinn? Is everything all right?” Jacob follows my line of sight out the glass door. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” I force a smile and look back up. Jacob McMillan works at our sister company and is partnering with me on this new big project. We dated for a while a year ago, and are better friends than lovers. He’s a nice guy, too nice really, and working with my ex isn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.

Don’t get me wrong, it is awkward to work with an ex when he’s still in love with you. But it’s manageable.

“I’ll be right back,” I say and stand, moving quickly out of my office. Archer steps in my direction. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Quinn, nice to see you too.” He gives me his trademark smile, and if I wasn’t still pissed at him for whatever the hell he was trying to do before, I might have gotten weak in the knees.

“Are you stalking me?”

“I’m not doing a very good job at it, am I?” He laughs and lets his eyes wander over me. “I like professional-Quinn. You look very…proper.”

I cross my arms. “Seriously, what are you doing here? Do I need to call security?”

Jacob comes up behind me. “Is he bothering you, Quinn?”

Archer pushes his shoulders back and stares down at Jacob.

“No,” I say. “This is my brother’s friend, Archer. I didn’t expect to see him, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Jacob holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jacob. Which brother’s friend? She’s got a lot,” he says with a chuckle.

“Dean’s,” Archer says and shakes Jacob’s hand. Something changes in his demeanor, and it’s then I notice how tired and worn Archer looks. “I’m attending a physician’s conference in the city.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” I press.

“I’ll let you guys catch up,” Jacob says, reaching out to take my hand. He gives it a squeeze. “Call me if you need anything. See you later.” He turns to Archer. “Nice to meet you.” He walks past us, going to the party to celebrate the successful launch of our new program. The shock starts to wear off and my heart speeds up. Archer is here. In my office. The last time I saw him, he grabbed me and almost kissed me.

And I wanted him to.

I still can’t think of that incident without growing wet. I’ve dreamed of it over and over, and in my dreams, he finishes what he started. I want to tear off his suit jacket and untuck his shirt, slowly undoing every button before peeling it off his muscular body.

Archer closes the distance between us. He smells even better than I remember, and the scent of his cologne triggers something animalistic inside of me, making me think there’s a good chance I might actually rip his clothes off.

“Sorry to startle you,” he says. “I really had no idea you worked here.”

At a loss for words, I just nod.

“I was going to text you and tell you I was here, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me after…” He trails off and looks away.

After he made it clear getting close to me bothered him. I think. Maybe? I can’t get a read on him.

“Well, welcome to Chicago. You’ve never been here before, have you?”

“No. It’s nice.”

“You sound surprised.” I inhale and try to get my heart rate to go back to normal. Usually, I complain that it’s too cold in this office, but right now I’m sweating. And it has nothing to do with Archer. Nope. No way.

“I didn’t know what to expect, really.” He casts his eyes in the direction of the party. “And it was a last-minute thing. One of the surgeons I worked under when I first started my residency got me into the convention.”

“That was nice. Right? Or are conventions awful? I kinda hate going to them. I have to talk to too many people and I don’t like most people.” Shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that.

Archer laughs, eyes brightening. “Honestly, it’s nice to sit down for hours at a time. I haven’t done that much lately. And I’m hoping talking to one of the surgeons speaking will get me a foot in the door for a fellowship I want.”

“A fellowship? I’m guessing it doesn’t have anything to do with taking a magical ring to Mordor.”

“Unfortunately, no. But if it was, I’d just ride the giant eagles, right?”

I hike an eyebrow. “You do know that wouldn’t have—you like Lord of the Rings?”

“Now you sound surprised.”

“You and Dean always seemed so alike, so yeah, I guess I am.” I bite my lip, wrestling my libido down. “What are you doing here though? Like in my office here?”

“Oh, I, uh,” he starts, diverting his eyes to the ground for a second. “Another doctor and I went out to lunch together and ran into your secretaries. They invited us back for some sort of work party.” He’s trying not to cringe as he talks, and it’s both adorable and repulsive.

“You were hoping for a booty call.”

“It’s not technically a booty call if I’m not the one calling.”

I put a hand on my hip. “You’re not helping your case, Jones.”

“Fine. Yes. But not me. Just Tyler.”

“I thought all doctors referred to each other as ‘Doctor Whatever’ and not your first names.”

“It depends on where we are. In the hospital setting, we do. Mostly. Hey,” he says and playfully nudges me. “We spent over a decade in

school. We’ve earned being called ‘doctor’ all the time.” He smiles again and dammit, I’m going to have to change my underwear. “I didn’t know you were so high up in the company.”

“Unlike you doctors, I don’t need to go around bragging.”

Archer chuckles and I suddenly realize there are other people in the office, including Rene, who keeps looking over her shoulder at us.

“Do you want to go find your date?”

“No,” he answers quickly. “I didn’t want to come, but I’m glad I did.”

“Yeah.” I find myself smiling. “Me too.” Our eyes meet, and I want to ask him to walk back with me, introduce him to my co-workers, and get a drink or two at the bar.

Then I remember I’m mad at him.

He’s an asshole, getting me all hot and bothered just to turn around and walk away like it was nothing at all.

“I have to go back to work.”

“Isn’t your day over at five?” he asks, looking at the clock on the wall behind me.

“Who told you that?”

“Your secretary.”

“Her day is, but I stay late sometimes.”

“Even on a Friday?”

“Especially on a Friday,” I retort, then realize it wasn’t the best comeback. Wit has never been my strong suit.

He gives me his best cocky smile. “And you said I was a fuddy-duddy.”

“So now you’re not too cool to use that word?”

“Oh, I am way too cool. I’m cool and a doctor, remember?”

I can’t help but laugh. What’s the harm in getting one drink and one piece of cake? Maybe he’s not an asshole.

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