Chapter 50
HEATHER
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It’s been a long day. I strip out of my lab clothing, keycard my way out of the building, and step into the gray sky of a Monday evening holding off a summer storm. The sky matches my mood. In truth, I’ve been fighting a mood the entire weekend.
Standing outside SolomiChem’s glass-fronted entrance, I free my hair from its ponytail and head in the direction of the parking lot.
“Hey, Heather, wait up,” calls a voice behind me. Glen.
I turn around and force a smile. “Hey.”
Glen moves his tall, thin frame close enough that I can smell a faint whiff of garlic on his breath. “You leaving at five today? You usually leave later.”
Yes, I do. Later hours mean I can snoop around, take pictures, rifle through files, and copy documents. Not that I’ve done any of that, not yet, but as Justin said, I’m setting a pattern.
“Mondays,” I say with a rueful shrug. “You know how it is.”
“Worst day of the week,” he agrees. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“There’s no need—”
“I’d like to. Please.”
I arrived slightly late this morning so my Mazda, an eighteenth birthday present from my grandmother, is parked at the end of the lot.
As we cross the asphalt together, Glen chats about his hobby, flying remote control helicopters, and I make appropriate, noncommittal noises and try to pay attention.
When we reach my car, I dig my car keys out and deposit my handbag on the passenger seat. I turn to face Glen, feeling awkward but mostly tired, wondering why he’s still hovering around.
“I was thinking of heading to the bar up the road,” Glen says casually, his brown eyes fastening on me. “The owner’s a friend of mine and won’t check IDs. Would you like to join me for a drink?”
He’s asking me out. On a date. I’m so surprised I say the first thing that comes into my head. “I don’t drink during the week.”
Glen runs his tongue over his teeth. “How about you suck on a lemonade then and I’ll have a beer.”
His tone, and the sly insinuation, make my cheeks burn. I take an uncomfortable step back. “I’m dead beat on Mondays. I won’t be any fun at all.”
“I can show you how to have fun.”
“Uh, that’s generous of you, but no, thank you. Early night for me.” I pointedly cover a yawn with my hand.
“C’mon, Heather, live a little.”
“I’m sorry I—”
“Heather, babe, there you are.”
And there Justin is, all gorgeous male swagger in cargo pants and a white T-shirt, his jaw set and a glint in his eyes. A flutter builds in my belly. He looks so tough and handsome that Glen fades into insignificance.
Brushing past Glen, Justin backs me up against my car and frames my face with his hands.
His eyes meet mine for the briefest instant.
I glimpse desire and apology in those hazel depths, before he dips his head and claims my mouth in a kiss.
Taking full advantage of my surprise, he moves his mouth skillfully against mine, coaxing my lips open.
An exhilarating rush of heat lights up my nerve endings. My knees give out and the only thing holding me upright is his hard body pinning me against my car.
There’s nothing unsure or hesitant about the way Justin kisses. The man kisses like he’s been fantasizing about it for days. It’s too much and not enough, and I don’t want this intoxicating moment to ever end.
My hands reach up of their own accord and my fingers thread through his soft hair. He angles his head and deepens the kiss. The intensity of it hums all the way to my toes, and I’m lost. Lost in the taste of him, the intimacy of his tongue tangling with mine.
I have no idea how much time passes before Justin finally lifts his head. His eyes are dark as they connect with mine. His lips curve into a smile.
I stand in the circle of his arms and struggle for composure, feeling such a surge of conflicting emotions I’m unable to say a word.
There’s a shuffling of feet next to us. “Heather,” Glen says stiffly. “Who is this?”
Wrapping a strong arm around my waist, keeping me close to him, Justin shifts his body and his gaze to Glen. “She’s not having a drink with you, Beanpole, because she’s with me.”
“Hey, I didn’t know,” Glen protests.
Justin’s face is hard, anger radiating from him. “Now you know.”
“Heather didn’t say anything.”
“She said a lot. You weren’t listening.”
“I’ll just be off then.” A slightly accusing look creeps into Glen’s eyes when he looks my way. “See you tomorrow, Heather.”
“See you tomorrow,” I echo to his back as he strides away.
Tomorrow at work will be interesting, but I can’t think about that right now, not when Justin’s kiss is still resonating through my body. Tonight, I know, it will play itself out over and over in my mind.
Justin turns me to face him. We’re both breathing hard.
“What was that?” he demands.
I blink. “What was what?”
“That was the worst saying no I’ve ever witnessed.”
“I was saying no!”
“Spare me,” he says derisively.
“I was trying to do it tactfully. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”
Astonishment shoots his eyebrows upward. “So when his stupid gene kicks in and he slips something into your drink, at least afterward you can console yourself his feelings are still intact.”
My cheeks flush. “I doubt that would have happened. You’re too suspicious.”
“And you’re too trusting.” His eyes soften a little as he stares at me, his gaze drifting to my lips for a pulse-skittering second. “It looks like it’s up to me to teach you.”
I swallow. “Teach me what?”
“How to avoid the ambiguous no.”
Tension thickens between us as we stare at one another for a breathless minute, neither of us breaking eye contact.
Slowly, Justin lowers his head so his mouth is only inches from mine. “I want you to refuse me.”
“Okay.” I melt into him, boneless. “No,” I breathe on a sigh.
“Terrible,” he murmurs.
“Is it?” I murmur back.
His lips are the softest brush against mine. “You need more practice.”
My body thrums with longing. “I do?”
“Yes,” he says huskily.
Those eyes of his are too knowing. A shiver feathers its way across my skin.
“Justin,” I whisper.
Something in my tone seems to get to him because he abruptly lets go of me and steps back, shoving a trembling hand through his hair, fighting for control.
“That’s enough practice for today,” he says, his voice rough.
“Yes, uh, definitely enough.” I adjust my shirt self-consciously. I can’t look at him.
After a moment, Justin says, “At least our display will put an end to any more harassment from Skeletor. He’ll keep his hands to himself and you’ll concentrate on the job you’ve been sent in to do.”
A hollow feeling washes over me. Is this why he kissed me? For the job? I have to hand it to him, he’s always so brutally practical. Hoping he won’t detect the hurt in my voice, I say, “It’s going to be awkward tomorrow with Glen.”
“Yeah, his pride’s been poked. He might load you with more grunt chores, drop a few sarcastic comments your way, skinny coward that he is. You can handle it.”
I scuff my feet. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He gently tilts my chin up. “If Stickman steps over the line in any way, you tell me. You got it?”
I nod, smiling a little. “His name is Glen.”
Scowling, Justin drops his hand. “He came on to you, so I get to call him whatever I want.” His gaze takes in the sprawl of SolomiChem’s parking lot, its wide front steps and impressive glass facade. “I’ll meet you here after work as often as I can to play up the boyfriend angle.”
I clear the awkwardness from my throat. “You don’t have to kiss me every time. Glen will get the message by your presence alone.”
A gleam lights up Justin’s eyes. “Just so we’re clear, TT, I’m the kind of boyfriend who kisses his girls. Bones will guess that about me. We’ll do what we need to.” Before I can reply, he lightly takes my elbow. “There are matters we need to discuss and we can’t do it here. Follow me to my place.”