When I woke up Sunday morning, Rylan was in bed next to me, watching me sleep. If it hadn't been for the totally sappy expression on his face, I would've thought it was a bit creepy. He brushed back my hair, then slid his hand down my spine, moving beneath the covers to continue his exploration. I could hardly handle the weight of his gaze and looked away, pushing myself up onto my elbows.

“I seem to recall the last time I spent the night, you made me breakfast.”

He chuckled, a low sound that made every part of me throb with desire.

“I'll get right on that.”

I thought for a moment he was joking, but then he rolled over and got out of the bed, giving me a fantastic view of that amazingly firm ass. He looked over his shoulder and winked. “Like what you see?”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. I'd always enjoyed the momentary release that came after sex, but I'd never felt this relaxed before, certainly not this long after.

“Any requests?” he asked. “How do pancakes sound?”

“Perfect.” I sighed.

“Come down whenever you're ready,” he said. He half-turned at the door and grinned at me. “Preferably wearing the same thing you are now.”

I supposed I disappointed him when, after a shower, I walked into the kitchen wearing one of his shirts, but that quickly disappeared – the disappointment and the shirt. I'd never spent an entire day with a guy before, certainly not a guy I was fucking. And even more surprising was, as the day wore on, I didn't feel that anxious need to go.

I did eventually go home, but it wasn't like any other trip home after sex. For the first time, I knew I'd be seeing him again, that there would be more. Talks. Hand holding. All of the things I'd never had and never thought I'd wanted until I'd met Rylan.

I suddenly couldn't wait to get to work the next day.

Except work was a lot harder than I'd expected it to be. Not the work itself. No, that was challenging, but not exactly difficult. The hard part was keeping everything between Rylan and myself a secret. I wasn't sure where things were with us, but I did know that it was way too soon for us to make any waves, especially since all it would do was make people at work think that I'd slept my way into the job.

Still, I couldn't stop myself from sneaking glances at him every time he walked by, thinking about what he looked like without those fitted jeans and long-sleeved shirt. My fingers tingled every time I looked at his back, remembering what it had been like to trace over the ink on the skin there. The best part was, it wasn't just me either.

When I walked into work Monday morning, I felt Rylan's eyes on me. Not in a creepy way, but rather with a familiarity that warmed me. He didn't say a single word to me, but his gaze spoke volumes.

When I got to my office, a thrill went through me as I saw a vase of lilies sitting on my desk. Most guys probably would've sent roses, but Rylan had been paying attention. There had been a specific reason for roses the other night, but this was about sending me flowers at work. I hadn't told him the story behind my tattoo or the importance of Lily, but he'd understood that for me to make it something permanent, it had to mean something. There were half a dozen pure white lilies and they smelled amazing.

“Secret admirer?”

I turned to see Christophe standing in the doorway. He was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes. Not for the first time, I wondered if he'd been hoping for something romantic between the two of us. Part of it I knew was my own fault for being so friendly when I'd first started and had been trying to make Rylan jealous, but I hadn't ever done anything overtly romantic or sexual.

“Something like that,” I answered mysteriously.

“Who are they from?” he asked, coming into the office.

I looked down at the vase, hoping Rylan had been smart enough not to leave a card. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that he hadn't.

“Did you have something for me?” I asked, purposefully avoiding his question. I didn't want to lie outright, but I wasn't about to answer honestly either.

Christophe scowled as he held out a stack of papers. “You'd asked for some results to be printed out. I figured I'd bring them to you.”

“Thank you,” I said as I took them. “That was nice of you.” I waited for a moment, and when he didn't leave, I went behind my desk and sat down, hoping he'd take the hint. A few seconds passed and he finally left, allowing me to focus on my work. Or, at least, focus as much as I could while catching glimpses of my flowers.

Monday morning wasn't the only time I received something from Rylan. At lunch, along with some mail, I received an unsigned note that simply said “Thinking of you.” On Tuesday, there were fresh lilies, accompanied by a snide comment from Emmaline regarding what I must've had to do to get flowers two days in a row. I would've been more upset with her if I hadn't gotten a text around the same time.

I wish we weren't so swamped trying to get this new system perfected because there are so many things I would love to do to you tonight.

Of course, I'd responded.

Looking forward to getting to cash in that rain check.

The rest of the day was spent waiting for those little notes, reminders that what had happened between us wasn't some fluke or that my trust had been misplaced. Rylan did want a relationship with me and, as much as that terrified me, I wanted it too.

I'd been hoping that we'd see each other after work, but with it being the week of Thanksgiving and Rylan giving everyone a half day on Wednesday as well as the rest of the week off, we had a lot to do before the holiday. Even the thought of the upcoming holidays wasn't enough to bring me down. I usually despised this time of year, not for others though, just for myself. I'd long since gotten past the jealousy toward those who spent their holidays with their families and loved ones while I did nothing. My Thanksgivings were usually spent lounging around my apartment working on code. Basically, the same thing I did any night I wasn't out. The main difference this year was that I wouldn't be going out on Friday night looking for a post-holiday hook up. Rylan and I hadn't defined anything between us, but I wasn't about to fuck things up by repeating bad habits.

“Jenna.”

Rylan's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. It was Wednesday morning and I had a couple hours left on my shift, a couple hours to see Rylan before a long weekend, during which I wasn't sure what would be happening.

The first thing I registered was that he looked even more amazing than normal. The second was that he wasn't alone. Next to him stood a tall, slender woman with short, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She had fine, delicate features, the kind that a model would've killed for, and an attitude that suggested any comparison to a model wouldn't be appreciated. She was smart and, judging by the way she was looking at me, came from money.

My stomach sank as I thought he was going to introduce me to one of his exes. After all, this looked like the kind of woman he usually dated, the kind that most people would expect him to be with.

“I'd like you to meet my sister, Suzette Dougall.”

My eyebrows went up. A sister? The research I'd done hadn't said anything about him having a sister. Granted, I hadn't delved too deeply into his personal life, but usually family stuff was the first to show up. Then I remembered that his parents had divorced when he was a kid. Different last name, no ring – she was probably his half-sister or stepsister. And I did have a vague memory now of him mentioning something about a sister that first night I'd been at his house. I'd had a lot of other stuff on my mind that night, so it wasn't surprising that the statement hadn't registered until now.

“Suzette, this is Jenna Lang, my new security tech.”

I stood and extended a hand. Suzette took it, but her eyes were narrow, as if she didn't like what she saw. Normally, I wouldn't give a fuck, but this was Rylan's sister and I wanted her to like me.

“Not really your usual employee dress code,” Suzette said as she took her hand back.

Rylan gave her a sharp look. “Jenna's special.”

I flushed and watched Suzette's eyes go from Rylan to me and back again. I heard her sigh and felt more than saw Rylan stiffen.

“If you say so, big brother,” she said. “Don't you think we should go? Zeke's waiting.”

Zeke. Yet another person in Rylan's inner circle who wasn't that fond of me. I wasn't sure if he knew that Rylan and I were together, but he didn't like me either way.

“Go on ahead,” he said. “I want to talk to Jenna for a moment.”

Suzette sent a not-so-nice look my way, but did as her brother asked, closing the door to my office behind her.

Even as the door closed, Rylan's arms wrapped around me.

“I thought we agreed, none of this at the office,” I protested, but it was only half-heartedly. I loved being in his arms.

“We did,” he said. “But that was before I realized how insanely difficult it would be to keep my hands off of you.” He ran one of his hands up my spine to wrap around the back of my neck.

My fingers curled in the front of his shirt as his fingers found all of the right pressure points across my neck. I tilted my head so that as he bent his, our mouths were perfectly aligned. His lips were firm against mine and my mouth willingly opened beneath his. His tongue slid inside and I met it with my own, twisting and tangling even as I pressed my body closer.

When he finally broke the kiss, we were both gasping for air, but he didn't let me go.

“If I thought for one moment that you'd feel comfortable, I'd ask you to come to Thanksgiving dinner with my family tomorrow,” he said. He smoothed down my hair.

I sighed, letting myself relax against him. “If I thought for one moment that I could be comfortable, I'd accept,” I said. “But you're right, I would feel out of place and things would be awkward.”

He pulled back enough so that he could look down at me. “Do you want me to spend the day with you instead?”

His sincerity was clear on his face.

“No,” I said. “You should spend the holiday with your family.”

He kissed my forehead. “I'll be thinking of you the whole time.”

I smiled. “Not the whole time, I hope.”

His eyes were twinkling as he answered, “I suppose I will have to behave myself. Wouldn't want to have to explain my hard-on in the middle of dessert. I don't know if my family would appreciate me sharing a fantasy where I was covering you with whipped cream.”

I laughed, trying to ignore the way his words were turning me on. “Yeah, I don't think that's the mental image I want in their heads when you talk about me.”

“Well, dessert aside, you're going to be on my mind.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “And I'll be counting down the time until I see you again.”

He brushed his lips across mine and left me wondering, not for the first time, why we were taking things so damn slow.