Murphy's Law by Lori Foster

brain you.”
    â€œA warning I’ll take to heart, I promise.” Where Ashley was concerned, he took everything to heart. From that first time of meeting her, her impact was like the kick of a mule—always in his heart.
    â€œGood.” She gave a sharp nod. “Now get a move on. I need you to go home so I can get back to work without you bothering me.”
    Pleased that he could bother her, Quinton smiled. “All right.” He picked up the papers he needed from his desk, turned out the lights, and followed Ashley out the door.
    She walked him to the elevator and waited beside him until the doors opened and he’d stepped inside. Catching his tie, she pulled him down and gave him a sweet kiss. “Bye.”
    He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
    She stepped out of the elevator. “Quinton, just so you know. I think I changed my mind.”
    Alarms bells rang out in his head. “About what?”
    As the doors started to close, she tipped her head and smiled. “About waiting. I think the sooner we resolve these crazy sexual urges, the sooner I’ll be able to regain some sanity.”
    â€œYou mean—”
    â€œYeah. Let’s go to your place after the reception. My place is the pits.”
    The doors shut before he could say anything more. He yanked out his cell phone, but in the elevator he didn’t have any reception. When he finally reached the parking level, he dialed again, and Ashley answered on the first ring.
    â€œIf you get me fired—”
    â€œThat was mean-spirited timing. I hope you know I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
    â€œGood. Neither will I.”
    â€œBut you’ll be working.”
    â€œAnd thinking of you.” She gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “You know, Murphy, I really hope you’re worth all this trouble.”
    She hung up on him, and Quinton started laughing. A man of lesser ego would feel pressured by her expectations on performance, but he had enough experience to know they’d be good together. He just needed to get her over the hang-up on her breasts—which he thought were perfect.
    Thinking of her and the coming wedding, reception, and following night, he smiled all through the parking lot—until he reached his Porsche. He must have run over broken glass and not realized it because both tires on the driver’s side were flat. But deflated tires couldn’t ruin his good mood.
    Settling against the fender, he called for a cab. In the morning he’d have the car repaired. He could have gone back inside, but he truly didn’t want to interfere with Ashley’s work. He’d have her to himself soon enough.
    With that in mind, a few flat tires were nothing more than a mere inconvenience.
    Â 
    Ashley paced her living room, alternately stewing and anxiously checking her watch. When the doorbell finally rang, she leaped forward and yanked the door open.
    Quinton stood there in a very fine dark suit and tie with a snowy white shirt. Ashley looked him over, struck by how his presence made her feel as if the sun shone down on her head. She grabbed him around the neck, pulled him down, and kissed him silly. It was a ticklish kiss because Quinton kept smiling. His big hands settled on her waist and he lifted her enough that he could walk them both through the doorway.
    She heard the door click shut, felt her back press against the wall, and Quinton had both hands on her bottom, lifting her up so that she just naturally wrapped her legs around his waist.
    â€œJesus, honey…” Groaning, he put his forehead to hers; then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he took her mouth again. His tongue slid in, tasting her deeply, caressing her. He readjusted for the best fit, kissing her once again, before whispering around a ragged breath, “This is nuts.”
    â€œI know.” She wanted to go on kissing him, but Quinton