LITMIR.BIZ

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the phone. “You must be mistaken. A hundred dollars is a ninety-percent savings off the retail price.”

      He lifted his ringing cell. “Do you want to ask the Houston office about that promotional sale?”

      She studied him, those pretty brown eyes darting back and forth as if trying to assess his honesty.

      Clay tossed her a crooked grin, then answered the call. “Peyton Johnson.”

      “Hey, boss. This is your wake-up call—or rather, your apartment’s-in-the-bag call.”

      “Nice. Thanks, Zoe. And while I have you on the phone, can you please talk to Megan, who works here at the Brighton Valley store? I told her all about that hundred-dollar special that the marketing department is running on the Geekon Blast laptop. And she didn’t believe me.” He handed his phone to Megan, confident Zoe would assure her that she could believe anything Clay—or rather, “Peyton”—had told her, even though Zoe had no knowledge of the phony sale he’d just concocted for Riley’s benefit.

      As Megan reached for Clay’s cell, her fingers brushed his, sparking a warm, feathery rush of heat up his arm. For a moment, their gazes met, and he realized she’d felt something, too.

      Then she averted her gaze and spoke into the phone. “Hello?” She listened for a moment or two, then said, “Okay. It’s just that it sounded way too good to be true, if you know what I mean. Goodness, if those things only cost a hundred dollars, I’d like one, too.”

      Again she listened to whatever Zoe was telling her. Then she nodded and handed the phone back to Clay. After thanking Zoe, he ended the call.

      “Satisfied?” he asked.

      “I guess so. She said you were in that last marketing meeting, and that you’re never wrong when it comes to sales and special prices. So she said I could rest assured that the offer was spot-on.”

      Clay tossed her a grin.

      Megan added, “She also said that she’d like one of the Geekon Blast models, too. Her nephew is having a birthday next week and would love a laptop. She’s thrilled to know that she can afford to buy him one—thanks to that special price.”

      “Smart gal, that Zoe. She’s always been one to jump on a good deal.” Clay would have to tell his executive assistant not to spread the word about the sale. And that it was a onetime deal that would last only until the end of the day.

      “So what do you say?” Clay asked, turning back to Riley. “Will you leave your old laptop with me and take this new baby for a test run?”

      “You got a deal,” Riley said. Then he took the box off the counter, tucked it under his arm and headed out the door.

      “I guess a new laptop worked even better at sweetening his mood than my cookies did,” Megan said.

      “How many customer complaints do you get these days?” Clay asked.

      She bit down on her bottom lip. “A few, I guess. Mostly because Don has gotten a little backlogged.”

      Clay suspected that was an understatement. But he’d find out the truth soon enough.

      “Come on,” she said, “I’ll finish giving you that tour of the shop.”

      She led him back to the work area, which was three times the size of the front part of the store. Yet it seemed a lot smaller than Clay remembered. Maybe that was because it wasn’t just the shelves that were stacked with various new and used computers and laptops. The floors were so cluttered with machines that they’d had to make walkways to get around them.

      “This is where Don works,” Megan said, indicating the old desk Ralph Weston used to keep as clean as a whistle. Only now the stacks of paper and other stuff made it impossible to see the once-glossy wood grain Ralph used to polish every Saturday afternoon.

      Clay followed along as she talked and pointed, but each time she moved or brushed past him, her lavender scent taunted him, causing him to lose focus on what she was saying.

      But it certainly didn’t cause him to lose his focus on the way her jeans hugged every inch of her curvy bottom—unlike that willowy, reed-thin model he’d dated last. To be honest, he actually found Megan’s womanly figure more appealing.

      She grabbed a stack of papers off a ledger and shoved them into a bin on top of one of the old green filing cabinets. “I’m in the process of developing a new invoice system that will be easier to manage.”

      He knew he should be paying a lot more attention to what she was saying and pointing out, even though not a stick of furniture or shelf or cabinet had changed in the ten-plus years since he’d worked here. But he couldn’t stop wanting to know more about her.

      And less about the new system she’d been trying to explain.

      “And that’s about the size of it,” she said as she ended her small circling tour at the foot of the stairway that led to the second floor. “And up there is the apartment Tyler was talking about, although I suspect you’d be much more comfortable at the Night Owl. Like I said, it’s closer to Wexler. And it’s right by the Stagecoach Inn, in case you wanted to grab some beers or go dancing or something after work.”

      “Is that an invitation?” The minute the words rolled off his tongue, he could have kicked himself.

      Why in the hell had he asked her that? He’d grown accustomed to women hitting on him, but even a former geek knew Megan was just being friendly and not flirting. Yet the longer he’d watched her bouncing around the store giving him a peppy, upbeat tour, like one of the cheerleaders back at Washington High in Wexler, the more he’d found himself slipping into nerd mode.

      “Oh, no. I don’t go out on...” A blush spread up the neckline of her shirt, and she averted her sexy brown eyes. “I mean, I don’t go out dancing or anything like that. I’m a mom. I have Tyler and Lisa and... That reminds me.” She paused and glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, but since I don’t normally work on Wednesdays, I don’t have a sitter lined up today. So I have to pick up my daughter. Do you mind watching the store for me again?”

      Before, he could answer, the beautiful redhead was out the door like a shot. Just like she’d done the first time he’d seen her.

      Clay looked at the stairs leading up to the apartment and wished her tour had continued to the intimate living space above.

      Maybe her running out was for the best, because he had no business allowing himself to be distracted. His time in Brighton Valley was limited, and he didn’t plan to stay any longer than absolutely necessary.

      Hopefully, Don Carpenter would be back soon, because Clay didn’t know how he was going to be able to work with the woman without a chaperone.

      At the sound of a pencil tapping, he realized they hadn’t even been alone now. Megan’s son was sitting at the front counter staring at the computers lining the wall instead of writing in his school workbook.

      So not only had she left him to look after the store, now she’d left him to babysit her son, too.

      Megan Adams might be sexy as hell, but she had to be the most irresponsible employee he’d ever had. And he had a feeling she’d be the first one at the Brighton Valley store that he’d have to let go.

      * * *

      Peyton Johnson couldn’t have come at a worse time. And he probably couldn’t be any more annoyed at Megan than he was now.

      When she’d grabbed her purse a second time and practically run from the shop yet again, he’d merely gaped at her. But she’d had a pretty good idea of what he’d been thinking.

      Still, with Don away from the shop, what other option did she have? She couldn’t very well leave her second grader at school.

      As she turned into the alley that ran behind the shops lining Main Street, Megan glanced into the rearview mirror and caught her daughter’s eye. “Lisa, change out

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