Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Kate
Kill.
Me.
Now.
Of course, Mrs. Ross would be wandering the halls at the exact time Tristan showed up. And of course, she’d make a comment about his big, capable hands. And of freaking course my attention would now be drawn to said big, capable hands.
I could honestly say up until that moment I’d never looked at a man’s hands and thought, Oh, those are nice. But as my gaze traveled over Tristan’s long fingers, those were the exact words floating around in my mind.
And it was all Mrs. Ross’s fault.
“Anyhoo,” the devil herself pulled me from my thoughts. “I’ll leave you two to it. Do absolutely everything I wouldn’t do.” Yet again, she leaned in. “FYI, I don’t sleep with my hearing aids, dear; noise doesn’t bother me at all.”
She winked. Tristan choked.
And I simply stood there praying for the ground to open and swallow me.
It wasn’t until Mrs. Ross’s door clicked shut that I snapped back to reality. “You should come in.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “That’d be nice. Unless there are more scary little old ladies who’d like to feel me up.”
“Oh, this is good.” I laughed and moved aside to allow him entry. “Mr. Big-shot attorney is afraid of grannies. Don’t worry.” I put my palm over my heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He stopped in front of me. “Good to know. I trust you to keep all my secrets.” His tongue darted out of his mouth as his gaze traveled the length of me. I didn’t know why, but my heart almost gave out at his slow perusal. “You look...pretty.”
Those words coming from him shouldn’t have sent a delicious shiver down my spine. And it absolutely shouldn’t have had my pulse skittering.
Ignoring my body’s strange reaction, I raised a brow. “No need for flattery. Tonight—and any other night—is not about getting into my panties. You can reserve your compliments for one of your special friends.”
Gaze darkening, he inched closer. “A bit forward to be talking about panties on a first date… How am I supposed to focus on food now?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Or maybe that’s your plan? Get me so twisted in thoughts of your underwear that I pay no attention to the burnt offerings you intend on feeding me. ”
“You caught me. I’m a terrible cook.”
“I doubt that.” Our gazes met and held. “And the compliment wasn’t for show, Kate. You look beautiful.”
My poor, poor heart almost leapt from my chest. “Thank—”
“Kate?”
At Millie’s voice, I jerked like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have. Standing in the entryway to the small foyer, her confused gaze bounced between me and Tristan.
“Is this your friend?” she asked in a faint voice.
She was nervous. She always was when meeting new people. I’d given her the heads-up this morning, asked if it’d be okay if I invited a friend, who happened to be a boy, over for dinner.
She’d nibbled on her lip, and after a way too long pause, she’d said it was fine with her. And even though I believed it, I knew those nerves would get the better of her. It was why we’d blasted BTS songs from the minute we got home.
Quickly closing the door, I hurried to Millie’s side. “Yeah,” I said. “This is Tristan. We work together.” To Tristan, I said, “This is Millie. The most amazing six-year-old you’ll ever meet.”
Millie liked that introduction. The corners of her mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. She wasn’t quite ready to set it completely free, but when Tristan stepped forward, I hoped he’d manage to coax it out of her.
I wasn’t prepared for him to kneel, putting himself almost at eye level with Millie. And when he held out his hand for her to shake, a tsunami of emotions flooded my system.
“Nice to meet you, Millie.”
She didn’t take his hand. Her gaze drifted from Tristan to me then back to Tristan. Her expression had my stomach dropping. This wasn’t good. I was about to tell Tristan it might be better if he left, but he spoke first.
“Are you a princess, Millie? Because you sure look like one.”
That smile I’d been so hopeful for came out in full force. Her dimples even popped.
But Tristan wasn’t done. He handed her a gift bag I hadn’t noticed until that moment. Millie tore into it with as much gusto as any excited six-year-old, and when she pulled out the plush toy and held it in the air triumphantly, I could have freaking hugged Tristan.
“Kate...” Millie shoved the odd-shaped plushie toward me. “Pancakes.” She jumped on the spot and let out a happy squeal. “And there are blueberries on top...”
“I see that.” My smile mirrored hers. “How cool.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tristan was on his feet again. He wore a strange expression—a mixture of joy, shock, and...sadness.
No, that couldn’t be right.
“Can I go play?” Millie’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
Shaking off the confusion, I smiled at her. “Sure you can.” As she skipped away, I quickly added, “If you’re going to listen to more music, maybe turn down the volume a bit.”
With a quick nod, she was off, leaving me alone with Tristan and an uneasiness I hadn’t felt before.
“So, uhm...”
“I hope...”
We spoke at the same time.
I laughed and shook my head. “You go first.”
He stared at me; those dark eyes boring into mine like he was about to argue. Thankfully, he didn’t. “Is it okay that I got her something? It didn’t feel right showing up empty-handed.”
“It’s fine. Perfect, actually.” My gaze drifted to the living room for a few seconds before shifting to him. He was still watching me. That uneasiness from earlier multiplied tenfold.
I licked my lips. “Thank you. Not only for the gift but for making her smile.”
“Welcome.”
We continued to stare at each other. In the back of my mind, I knew I had to say something, but my brain was too trapped in the weirdness of having my boss in my home to come up with words of any kind.
“Anything to drink?” I finally found my damn voice. Pity it was all soft and squeaky.
“That’d be nice.” He nodded. “What do you have?”
“Follow me.”
Annoyed with whatever the heck was going on inside my body, I headed for the kitchen. With every damn step, I was extremely aware of his gaze on me as he followed. Or maybe it was my imagination tricking me into thinking that. Whatever it was, I needed it to stop.
“Your options are water, wine, beer, and juice.” I looked up from the open fridge just to find the man studying me.
Again.
Three, maybe four, seconds ticked by before his dark brow inched up his forehead. “You keep your wine in the fridge?”
“I prefer it chilled.” I met his raised brow with mine. “Is that a crime?”
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, and holy freaking moly, the vibrations of it skittered over my skin. What in the actual hell was happening to me? Maybe going without a man’s touch for so long was finally catching up to me?
Had to be. No way was Tristan freaking Blake’s...anything affecting me.
“Don’t ever say that to Rafe.” He was closer now. When did he move closer?
“Why’s that?” Ah, crap. My voice did that damn squeaky thing again, only this time, there was an added hint of breathiness added to the mix.
Good grief.
“He’ll lecture you for hours on the proper wine etiquette. Trust me, it can get boring pretty fast. Unless…” Tristan eyed me up and down. “His accent gets you going?”
The way he’d phrased that. it wasn’t just a random statement. It was a question. One he’d very much liked to know the answer to if his intense stare was anything to go by.
“Italian’s not really my thing.” I blinked a few times then said, “I prefer Korean.”
The surprise on his face was priceless. “Really?”
“Yup.”
“Interesting.” He moved farther into my space, so damn close, I felt the heat of his body at my side. “I’ll have the wine, thanks.”
Oh good, maybe alcohol would even out the weirdness.
I took the bottle from the fridge but before I could put it on the counter, he covered my hand with his. My gaze shot to where he touched me, and damn Mrs. Ross, because all I could think was how warm and nice his hand was.
And big.
With long fingers. He’d easily hold my fist in his palm.
Capable. That was the word Mrs. Ross had used. My bet would be way more than capable. An image of those fingers threaded through mine with my arms above my head filled my mind.
No. No, no, no, no. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all. No thinking about Tristan and his hands touching me.
“Let me help with that.”
“Huh?” I was embarrassed to admit the squeakiness had reached a new level.
“The wine.” He flexed his fingers. “Let me open it.”
Without a word—mostly because I didn’t trust myself to speak—I slipped my hand out from under his to retrieve the bottle opener. I also used the small reprieve to mentally tell myself to get my damn shit together.
This was Tristan. Probably the only person in the world who I couldn’t and wouldn’t cross any lines with. Not only was he my boss, but we also didn’t share the same outlook on sex.
He was way too comfortable sharing his bed with the next willing body, where I’d only slept with guys who I’d been in a committed relationship with. All right, fine, guy. There’d only been one.
Yes, he’d turned out to be the worst human on the face of the earth, but that didn’t change my values. I could never be as blasé over sex as Tristan and even Izzy were. Feelings and trust had to be involved.
Tristan Blake didn’t do feelings, and I would never trust him with my most vulnerable parts.
That was the realization I needed to get my head straight.
I’d repeated it to myself over and over again as the three of us sat at my dining table and tucked into Millie’s favorite noodle dish.
I’d mentally yelled those words when Tristan showed an actual interest in Millie.
He got her talking about school, her love for singing, dancing, and all things K-pop.
Louder still, when it was time for Tristan to leave and Millie held out her hand for him to shake. This kid who didn’t want people she didn’t trust inside her bubble had reached out to him.
My heart almost couldn’t stand it.
For all of Tristan’s faults, I would never not appreciate the effort he’d put in with my sweet little girl.
“Bye, Tristan.” Millie waved, her tiny hand furiously moving back and forth.
“Goodnight, Princess.”
I snuck a peek at her when he called her that, and my gosh, her smile was so big and so damn beautiful. She waved one more time, those dimples on full display, then disappeared down the hall.
“Cute kid,” he said.
My attention returned to him. He stood inside the doorway, hands tucked inside his pockets, and his dark gaze traveling the length of me.
I had the urge to ask him what he saw when he studied me like that, but thankfully, the rational side of my brain came to my rescue.
“Thank you for coming to dinner.”
He chewed on the corner of his mouth. “Good food, good wine... Good company.” He leaned forward, filling my senses with his spicy scent. “How could I resist?”
“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t we?”
He moved even closer. “Am I?”
My gaze dropped to his mouth. It wasn’t the first time I’d stolen a glance at his lips—I had a tendency to watch people’s mouths when they spoke—but it was the first time I’d noticed how full they were.
Especially the bottom one.
“You know, looking and not touching is considered a crime in certain parts of the world.”
The low rumble of his voice skittered over my skin. My blood heated, and my heart skipped a few beats. Still, I managed to roll my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Oh, Kate.” He splayed those long fingers over his chest. “No goodnight kiss for your pretend boyfriend?”
The thundering behind my ribs grew faster and louder. “No.”
He gasped. “What would Mrs. Ross say about this? I’m positive she’s keeping those hearing aids in just for tonight.”
“Oh my gosh. You’re terrible. Go home.”
I shut the door in his face. Fingers curled around the handle; I leaned my forehead against the wood. He was still there. His shadow mocked me from underneath the door.
Time ticked by. He didn’t move. Neither did I. I had no idea how long we stood there before I caught a soft, “Sweet dreams, Kitty Kat.”
Then he was gone, leaving me to deal with the mess that was my insides.
“I’m ready for bed.”
Thank goodness for Millie. Pasting on a smile, I pushed off the door and faced her.
“Wow, look at you.” She was in her pj’s with Tristan’s plushie clutched to her side. “Brushed your teeth?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Rinsed your mouth?”
“Yup.”
I parked my hands on my hips. “I’m impressed. Let’s get you all tucked in then.”
A few minutes later, and after her bedtime story, Millie crawled into bed and held her pancake plushie to her chest. I was still stunned that Tristan had managed to get her something she liked so much.
“So...” I climbed in next to her and brushed out her hair. “What do you think of Tristan?” A bout of nervousness flooded my veins. I shoved it aside and kept my gaze on the brush as I waited for her answer.
“He’s big,” she said. “Bigger than Gramps. But I like him.”
I liked him too. The version of him we’d witnessed tonight, at least. He was charming, funny, and nothing like the man I’d worked with for the past five years.
And that was the damn problem.
I shouldn’t have found him charming and funny. And I most certainly should not have looked forward to playing pretend with him.