Chapter 11 #2
He nodded, grinning despite himself. "I suppose there is. I don't know why I assumed you'd have delicate, matching china cups or something."
"When I'm writing, I like to get settled somewhere comfortable.
I might be outside on the porch, in my office, or curled up on the living room sofa.
Once I find my spot and get into the creative flow, I want to focus on the work, not be constantly jumping up to refill my coffee cup.
" She gestured toward her mug with obvious affection.
"I found these at a little pottery shop in town.
Each one is handmade by a local artist, so they're all slightly different.
And don't worry if you accidentally break one.
They're not expensive, and I bought plenty of extras.
This way I can fill up with coffee, or tea, or hot chocolate later, and stay in my writing zone for hours. "
He held her gaze and smiled. "You are very practical, Willow Thorton."
She scrunched her nose and tilted her head with an expression that was half curious, half worried. "I can't tell if that's supposed to be a compliment or if you're pointing out a character flaw."
"First of all, I would never presume to point out faults to you," he said seriously. "And second, it was absolutely intended as a compliment."
She looked down at her mug, her finger tracing absently over the subtle ridges left by the potter's hands. When she finally lifted her gaze to meet his again, there was something vulnerable in her expression that made his chest tighten.
"I may have been raised in Los Angeles and Hollywood by people who seemed to think being pretentious was a God-given right, but that was never really me.
I constantly felt like I was suffocating under all the artificial expectations and manufactured drama.
" Her voice grew softer, more reflective.
"I suppose at heart, I'm just a practical woman who values genuine connections over superficial glamour. "
There was so much layered into her simple statement…
pain, disappointment, self-knowledge, and a quiet strength that had allowed her to walk away from a world that would have consumed someone weaker.
He wanted to unpack every word, to understand the experiences that had shaped her into the remarkable woman sitting across from him.
The impulse was dangerous, a level of personal investment that went far beyond his professional responsibilities, but he couldn't seem to help himself.
His phone vibrated against the table, interrupting the moment. He glanced at the caller ID and answered immediately. "Bert? I hope you have good news for me."
"Everything you requested was in stock and ready to go.
We had it privately air-shipped directly to the security installation company in Omaha first thing this morning.
They should have all the equipment in their hands by nine, and they're saying they can be at her location by eleven.
Let me know if there are any complications. "
"Perfect. Thanks for the quick turnaround." He ended the call and found Willow watching him expectantly.
"Is everything all right?" she asked.
"Better than all right. My people confirmed they had all the security equipment I specified, and it's already been air-shipped to the installers in Omaha. They should have everything within the hour and expect to be here around eleven this morning."
The ease of tension flickered across her features. "That's wonderful. It'll be such a relief to feel truly secure in my own home again."
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as his expression grew serious. "Everyone should feel safe in their own home, Willow. It's not too much to ask."
She held his gaze steadily, and he could see her weighing whether to ask if there was a deeper meaning behind his words.
There was. Memories of his own childhood, of nights spent listening for his stepfather's footsteps, of learning to make himself invisible when anger filled their small house.
But there was no reason for her to know those details.
Her phone interrupted the charged moment between them, and she glanced down at the display. "Oh, I didn't realize how late it was getting. This is Aaliyah."
"Go ahead and take the call," he said, already beginning to clear their breakfast dishes. "I'll handle the cleanup."
She hesitated, clearly torn between politeness and necessity. He leaned closer, close enough to catch the subtle scent of her shampoo. "Willow, I know how to clean up after a meal. I promise not to break anything."
Her soft chuckle sent warmth through his chest. "I'm sure you do."
She moved into the living room to take the call, and while he wasn't deliberately eavesdropping, her voice carried easily through the open space.
They were clearly planning her week as she mentioned a video conference with her editor and confirmed that her schedule was otherwise clear for writing.
Then he heard her say, "Other than that, I'll be working, and then we'll fly to LA the day after tomorrow. "
He couldn't make out Aaliyah's responses, but Willow's face suddenly flushed bright red.
She glanced in his direction, then turned slightly away on the sofa, her voice dropping to an embarrassed mumble.
"Yes... yes... no... Aaliyah, please. I have to go.
" She disconnected abruptly and stood, her cheeks still flaming.
"Everything okay?" he asked, though her obvious discomfort was rather endearing.
"Yes," she said quickly, then seemed to reconsider her response.
She shook her head with a resigned sigh.
"She asked if it was nice having you here.
Then she wanted to know if you were good-looking.
I was terrified of what questions might come next, so I ended the call before she really embarrassed me. "
He threw his head back and laughed, genuinely delighted by her honesty. "You really do lay all your cards on the table, don't you? I like that about you."
"Well, my cards and I are going to retreat to my office and attempt to get some writing done before the installers arrive." Her face was still beautifully flushed as she gave him a polite nod, then turned and hurried down the hallway with obvious haste.
Unable to resist, he let his gaze follow her retreat, appreciating the graceful way she moved and the appealing picture she made in her casual clothes.
She was stunning when she was in control and confident, but somehow even more captivating when she was flustered and genuine.
At least he was reassured to know he wasn't the only one feeling the undeniable chemistry building between them.