“We didn’t have pets growing up. You’d think with that many people to take care of an animal it would have been a no brainer, but my mom’s allergic to pet dander. What about you? Have you ever had a dog?”

“No. Dogs are messy and require training, and most of all time that I don’t have.”

“They are also adorable and snuggly and lovable.”

“Pass."

There’s silence for a minute, and I think I’ll have some peace, but then Chloe exclaims, “I got it!”

She turns her phone in my direction.

“The word was MOIST. Isn’t that funny? So many people hate the word moist.”

I glance from her phone with the game grid to her beaming face, then back down to my phone. I don’t want to encourage talking during my morning commute. I prefer silence and solitude. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her tucking her phone into her purse.

The car pulls over and I glance up to find we’ve arrived at my office. I slip my phone into my pocket and reach for the door.

I’m on the curb when Chloe leans toward my side of the car, the action causing the material of her blouse to hang from her body and give me a glimpse down her shirt.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asks.

My eyes feast upon the swells of her breasts resting above her lace bra. I can’t remember anything at the moment.

It takes me a second to hear her question. I’m not sure what she thinks I’m forgetting. My eyes dart toward the front of the car where Marcus is sitting in the driver’s seat. It occurs to me that Chloe might think we need to keep up appearances for our fake relationship in front of my staff. She’s leaning onto my side of the car, her face looking up at me expectantly.

I lean down, meeting her where she sits.

Instinctively, my hand moves to her face, my fingers grazing the shell of her ear. I place my lips firmly on hers. Fuck. I’ve forgotten how soft her lips are. I mean for it to be a chaste kiss, but I linger there, not wanting to break the contact.

Chloe pulls back. When my eyes open, she’s staring at me, confused. Her fingers tracing the curve of her lower lip.

“That’s not…I didn’t mean…um…your coffee.” She reaches forward, my travel thermos in her hand.

“Right.” I nod, taking the coffee from her. Her cheeks are flushed, likely with embarrassment about my misunderstanding. For me or for her, I’m not certain. “It won’t happen again,” I reassure her.

“Have a good day.” She recovers from the mortification of my kiss just as I slam the door shut.