One Shots!

(Mary’s POV)

It started as a joke.

Ray told me he had a long internal case review meeting with his agency team.

“Super formal. Ties. PowerPoint. No fun,” he’d said over breakfast that morning, still half-asleep and pouting into his mug of black coffee.

So naturally, I did what any loving, supportive fiancée would do.

I planned to absolutely ruin his focus.

You know. For sport.

I timed it perfectly.

He was seated in the agency’s glass-walled conference room, dark shirt unbuttoned at the throat, sleeves rolled up, looking sinfully good and dangerously serious.

I could see him through the tinted glass, surrounded by papers, a digital board up behind him and Chernin talking about case analytics.

I walked in like I had every right to be there.

Because I did.

But maybe not in a body-hugging burgundy dress and heels I could barely walk in.

Chernin blinked. “Miss Whitmore. Is this... urgent?”

I smiled sweetly. “Just here to drop off Ray’s lunch. Wouldn’t want him forgetting to eat.”

Ray looked up.

His jaw slackened for a fraction of a second before he recovered.

“Angel,” he said slowly.

“Hi, darling,” I said, placing the paper bag and a wink on the table. “Don’t work too hard.”

I leaned in.

Whispered in his ear, “That tie you forgot at home? I’m wearing it.”

He choked on air.

I left before anyone asked follow-up questions.

But I didn’t go far.

No.

I slipped around the side of the building to the side entrance he usually used for breaks.

Ten minutes later, he was there.

Hands braced on the wall, breathing like he’d run a mile.

“Mary.”

I blinked innocently. “Yes, baby?”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

I tugged on his collar. “Then die loving me.”

And then he kissed me.

Hot. Desperate. Messy.

His hands found the hem of my dress.

My back hit the wall.

And somewhere, in the back of my mind, I heard the echo of a digital presentation continuing without him.

Oops.

“Ten minutes,” he groaned. “That’s all I have.”

“Then you better make them count, Doctor.”

And oh, he did.

Afterward, as I fixed my lipstick and he adjusted his shirt, I whispered, “Still think internal meetings are boring?”

He stared at me.

Then kissed me again, slower.

“I think you’re going to be the reason I end up behind my own interrogation table.”

“Worth it.”

He grinned.

And walked back in like nothing happened.

I left the building, whistling.

Chaos: 1. Ray: 0.

But love?

Always mutual destruction.

Always worth it.