Mila woke up at the butt crack of dawn and could not fall back asleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Sloane dragging a manicured fingernail down Rowan’s appealing chest.
The smirk on Sloane’s face was enough to goad a saint to murder.
It left such a sour taste in Mila’s mouth that the sleep she had been dreaming about before her day off was no longer an option.
She made a fresh cup of coffee for Landon and some toast for herself before sitting down at the dining room table with a newspaper open to the puzzle and crossword section.
“Mila, there’s this girl I like at work. Which outfit do you think she’d prefer?” Landon held out two suits.
One suit was black with white accents on the pocket. The second suit was a heather blue with grey accents.
Mila looked up, amused. She squinted her eyes. Landon wore far too much black. The other suit would be more likely to catch attention. “Heather blue. Move your hair away from your eyes so she can look into your eyes.”
