Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 103030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
She laughs. The sound is music to my ears.
“Not in so many words,” she says, leaning against the armrest. “I guess I’ve … closed myself off since Luca, my husband, died. I probably did it before that if you can believe Lisbeth.”
“Lisbeth?”
“My friend. The one with the line about—”
“Me being a gift,” I say. “I like Lisbeth.”
She giggles. “She’d like you too, I think.”
“What’s not to like?”
She pretends to consider the question, making me laugh. After my laughter fades and the two of us find ourselves staring at one another, she sighs.
“I liked your kiss, Oliver,” she whispers.
My body heats as if a fire was stoked in my core. I smooth my tie down the ridge of my chest to keep my hands busy—so I don’t shove away from my desk and wrap her in my arms.
“But,” she says, dampening the moment, “I think it’s probably pointless to do it again.”
“Why is that? Because we have options. I’m the CEO, you know. I can have you transferred to work for Boone.”
She snorts. “No offense, but I’d rather work for Wade. And he’s already offered me a job, if you’ll recall.”
I was joking. There’s no way in hell I’d let her work for one of my brothers. The idea of her being in the building—or next door, in Wade’s case—and not available for me to drop in, talk to, check in on at a moment’s notice would be a nightmare.
“I like you working for me,” I say.
“Then kissing is definitely not something we should probably do again.”
My temperature increases … but not from lust. This time, it’s from aggravation.
“You seem so sure about that,” I say, my words confused. Definitely not something we should probably do? Clear as mud.
She blows out a long, hasty breath.
“If it’s not about your employment—because I’ve promised you nothing will happen to that, then what is it?” I ask.
“I …” She falls back into her chair. “Honesty, right?”
“Always.”
“Okay, then.” She takes a shaky breath. “I haven’t kissed a man in a long time. I mean, sure, I’ve kissed a couple of guys that Lisbeth tried to set me up with, but it was more like a peck on the cheek after a mediocre dinner. But I haven’t kissed someone and had it take my breath away in …” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes never leave mine. “In a very long time.”
If she’s trying to bewitch me, it’s working.
My cock comes to life, pressing against my boxers. All I can think about is having this woman naked and under me—over me, next to me, wrapped around me like a fucking glove.
I drop my hand under the table and adjust myself.
“I have a lot on my plate,” she says, watching me carefully. “A lot. A lot of things are still screwed up from my divorce or … my marriage’s end, however you want to phrase that. And I’m trying so hard to climb out from under the rubble.”
“Maybe I can help you.”
She smiles. “This isn’t something you can help me with. It’s all mine to fix, to repair. Mine to sort out.” She sighs sadly. “I’m trying to walk a balance of moving on from all of that mentally while still dealing with it in a fiscal way. It’s not easy.”
I study her. The way her hair catches the light looks like she’s wearing a halo. How she leans toward me with her shoulders, as though she’s asking me to hold her. The way her lips stay parted so the conversation doesn’t end.
My gut squeezes, pulling me out of the fantasyland of Shaye Brewer and back to reality.
She’s telling me she’s not in a place to deal with me. If I’m being honest, I’m not in a place to handle her anyway. I never will be.
Shaye is marriage material—porch-swinging, sweet tea-drinking, childbearing material. And I am not.
I can’t be. I’ve seen too much.
People are fickle. Their needs and wants change. Hell, my parents are getting a divorce. My own father isn’t even the same person he was anymore. It’s how the world works. I tried to put on a pair of rose-colored glasses once and buy into the false promises of forever. She’s currently married to Charles Gamby.
“So, you’re not looking for a relationship,” I say. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Yes. I think so.”
I nod and stand, figuring it’s a good stopping point for the conversation. Shaye stands too and waits for me to come around the desk.
“I can’t argue with that.” I stop in front of her, breathing in the floral notes of her perfume. “You have to put your needs first. That’s the responsible thing to do. I respect that.”
She sucks in a shallow, quick breath. The sound fires through my body like a bolt of lightning.
I take a step toward the door—needing to get her out of here before I do something she doesn’t want—when my hand brushes against her.