Chapter 7 #2
She followed the main hallway to an open door and went inside.
Ross stood on a large wooden desk, which had been shoved against a tall bookcase in order to reach several file boxes that were stacked along the top.
His arms were outstretched as he reached for one, his T-shirt—dusty and sporting a few streaks of dirt—rode up, revealing smooth skin.
His shirt sleeves rode up too, giving her a nice view of his arms, biceps flexing under hard muscles.
She rolled her eyes and set the basket on the corner of a nearby table. The entire office was crammed with stuff. Boxes, papers, files, crates. This was going to be more time consuming than she'd expected.
"You're late," he said, pulling a box down and then facing her, clearly unhappy with her tardiness as she suspected.
Harper drummed her fingers on the picnic basket, drawing his gaze. His expression changed completely. "Is that food?"
Apparently, Riley and Lucy knew what they were talking about. "Yeah. You want to eat first? How long have you been here?"
"About an hour," he answered, setting the box on the desk and jumping to the floor.
Her pulse leapt as he moved forward and she tried not to imagine running her hands over those wide shoulders in welcome, feeling the contrast of the soft cotton of his shirt with the hard muscle beneath, or running her fingers through his black hair and making the short waves a rumpled, sexy mess.
"Harper?" A sharp tone cut through her fantasy.
She blinked. "What?"
He towered in front of her. "I said it's fine with me to eat now if you're hungry."
"Oh. Um." Heat filled her cheeks. Damn it.
"Yeah." A little dazed, she opened the basket, grabbed a wrapped sandwich and shoved it at him.
"Here." He took it, a flash of confusion crossing his face at her rigid tone as she walked around him and surveyed the office—anything rather than deal with him.
"Have you gone through this stack here?" she asked, gesturing to a stack of four boxes in the corner.
"Not yet. The ones against the wall I've done already. You're not hungry?"
She kept her back to him and bent over the top box, opening the lid. "I'll eat in a little while..."
After a few seconds, she glanced over her shoulder as Ross bit into the sandwich with unapologetic hunger.
Annoyed, she returned to the box and began methodically going through the contents.
For God's sake, how could eating a sandwich be sexy?
The low hum of approval he gave made her look again to see his cheeks filled and his jaw working, his eyes closed.
"Lucy is awesome," he muttered in adoration.
Whatever. Where was her thanks? She'd helped. Not that he would know that.
When his thirsty gulps from one of the waters reached her, it was all Harper could do to stay on task.
"What the hell is this?"
Ross held up a napkin cut out to resemble a heart. When he pulled it open it made a chain of four. His brow rose, one black eyebrow going slightly higher than the other as he stared at her as though she'd had something to do with it.
She was going to murder Lucy. Or Riley. Standing, she blew a strand of hair from her face. "Hell if I know. Lucy made the basket," she said, defensively, not admitting her part in helping. "Maybe she gave me the wrong one or something."
Looking further, Ross pulled out a familiar wrapper and held it up between two fingers, unable to suppress his grin.
Oh my God. She was going to die. A condom? A freaking condom?
"Like I said, wrong basket. Obviously." She was going to more than murder. She'd torture first.
Ross shoved the condom in the front pocket of his jeans, which only made her face grow hotter. He said nothing, but continued staring with that irritating grin of his.
Heat crept up her neck and if this damn strand of hair didn't stay out of her face, she was going to yank it out. Irritated, Harper blew at it again with a loud huff.
"Stop doing that."
"Stop doing what?"
He made a wild gesture with his hand. "That.
..thing with your hair. Tuck it behind your ear.
" He crumpled the heart napkin and chucked it in a nearby trash can, looking as irritated as she felt.
Though why the state of her hair would annoy him, she didn't know.
Whatever. She undid her messy twist—because that strand was bothering the crap out of her, not because it bothered Ross—and wound her hair into a tight bun and knotted it. "There. Happy now?"
His eyes went narrow. "Not really." Then he turned and strode out the door.
What the hell?
Harper stood there for a long moment, trying to figure out what had just happened. She was itching for a fight, but not really sure why.
As much as she wanted to go after him and have it out, she stayed put. Mostly, out of fear. Fear of what would come to light if she did. Lucy's words had wormed their way into her mind. What if Ross leaving twelve years ago wasn't what she always believed it to be?
What if Lucy was right?