Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Luke
I still don’t know what the hell I was doing agreeing to this. It’s only been one day, and I’m already pretty sure I won’t be able to make it through another day. Let alone thirty more.
Not because she’s incompetent.
If anything, that’s the problem.
Well, part of it.
My office hasn’t looked this organized in years. Okay, it’s never looked this organized.
Every file is accounted for. Every deadline is flagged. And there are folders for things I didn’t even know I needed.
Lilly’s somehow figured out my system, or lack of one, and imposed order on it without asking for permission or forgiveness.
And this is only the start.
She’s already told me that she’ll be tackling my emails next.
She’s efficient and precise.
And entirely too distracting.
I lean back in my chair and drag a hand over my face, staring at the neat stacks on my desk as if they might explain to me how this level of organization happened in only a few hours, and I know I’m screwed.
She didn’t hover or chatter or…really anything at all. She was there, but also not. Whenever I needed to make a call, she somehow knew what file to pull before I said a word, and then she disappeared, giving me privacy.
Yet, somehow, she also managed to accomplish more than I would have expected her to in a whole month, in only one day.
And yet, every time she stepped into my line of sight, all I could think about was bending her over my desk and sinking my thick cock into her sweet pussy.
It was completely out of line.
Totally unprofessional and against…well, everything.
Yet…
It doesn’t matter how good she is at her job. She can’t stay.
My stomach growls, reminding me I skipped lunch, and the bowl of cereal I’d had for breakfast had been hours ago.
In the kitchen, I stand in front of the fridge and stare inside longer than required, trying to take inventory of what’s left. I haven’t been down to the store in weeks. And it shows. There’s enough for a few simple meals. Something that doesn’t require much planning or thought.
Just the way I like it.
Except now there are two people in the house. And I have to assume Lilly will want to eat something.
And since she made it quite clear earlier that cooking was not part of her job description, I guess it’s up to me.
I pull out a package of steaks I’d taken out of the freezer a few days earlier, and a handful of potatoes. They’re a bit soft, but they’ll do in a pinch.
Light footsteps sound behind me.
“Do you need any help?”
I don’t turn immediately. I don’t need to. I’m already more aware of her than I should be.
“I thought you didn’t cook?” I turn then to see she’s changed out of her work clothes into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater that’s slipping off one shoulder.
Her long dark hair has been twisted up into a messy bun, and somehow this relaxed version makes her both look younger and sexier all at the same time.
“You changed,” I say before she can answer my first question.
Lilly glances down at her outfit before looking up at me with a grin. “We didn’t talk about working hours, but I assumed six was probably safe to clock out.”
“It is.” I nod.
“And it’s not that I don’t cook,” she adds as if I haven’t spoken. “I just wasn’t hired to cook.”
She moves comfortably through my kitchen, finding a cutting board and a knife before bending down to pull a pot from the lower cupboard.
I make the mistake of looking, and when she bends over, her peach of an ass strains against the tight leggings, leaving very little to the imagination.
With a growl, I turn and take a plate from the shelf.
“I don’t need any help.”
More like, I need her to get out of my kitchen before my thoughts slip into even more dangerous territory.
“That seems to be a theme with you, doesn’t it?” She smiles, and her blue eyes flash. “You can relax, I’m not offering to reorganize your kitchen or anything, I’m just offering to wash vegetables or chop something. To be honest, my cooking skills aren’t nearly as developed as other areas.”
Dammit.
There was nothing sexual about her comment, yet my mind flashes immediately to what other skills she might have.
My cock thickens in my jeans, forcing me to turn back to the counter and focus on the steaks.
“You can do the potatoes,” I say begrudgingly, since it doesn’t seem she’s going to leave me alone.
I don’t look, but I’m very aware of her as she grabs the potatoes and moves across the room to the sink.
“Roasted or baked?”
“Your choice.” When she doesn’t respond, I turn reluctantly to see her watching me with a question in her eyes. “Roasted,” I offer after a moment.
We work in a surprisingly comfortable silence after that.
Well, it would be comfortable if I weren’t so damn aware of every move she makes and the cute way she’s humming a song under her breath.
I can’t remember ever being so distracted by a woman before.
Especially one I barely know. But there’s something about her. It’s dangerous. And I don’t like it.
I try to block out her humming until the only sounds I register are the sound of the knife on the cutting board and then the sizzle when I lay the steaks on the hot pan. It’s domestic in a way I haven’t experienced since Tessa was a little girl, and the unfamiliarity of it keeps my senses on edge.
“Do you always eat this late?” Lilly asks as we set the table.
I shrug and grab the plates from the shelf, handing them to her. “Whenever I get around to it, I guess.”
“That’s not very structured.”
“Didn’t realize I needed to keep to a schedule.”
She smiles faintly and raises a brow. “You don’t.
It just seems like something you’d benefit from.
Besides, I’m here now. And it turns out, I do like to eat at a reasonable time.
” I open my mouth to object, but she stops me.
“And before you can say anything, no, I don’t expect you to cook for me every night. ”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” It’s not a lie, but she gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t believe me before carrying the bowl of potatoes to the table.
I follow her with the steaks, and a plate of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers I found.
“It’s just that I don’t cook every night,” I say as I sit across from her.
“And I definitely don’t eat at the table when I do. ”
Her smile is wide this time. “Well, I’m happy to help out in the kitchen, too. Cooking isn’t my strong suit, but I don’t mind trying as long as your expectations aren’t too high.”
She’s so charming, I find myself agreeing, despite every reservation I have about spending even more time with this woman.
We eat in silence for a few minutes before she says, “You aren’t married.”
I look up, caught off guard. “That’s a hell of a way to start a conversation.”
Her cheeks color slightly, but she holds my gaze. “I just assumed…well, if you did. Or if you had a girlfriend, she probably wouldn’t appreciate me living here, is all.”
I shake my head slightly. “I don’t have either.”
The relief that flashes across her face is quick, but unmistakable.
“You?” I ask. “Got a boyfriend that’s gonna have a problem with you living up here alone with me?”
She freezes, just for a second, before shaking her head. “No. There’s no one.”
For a split second, she looks almost wounded, but then the mask snaps back into place, and she lifts her fork to her mouth.
The answer is simple. The expression behind it isn’t.
Lilly
We finish dinner in a silence that’s not exactly uncomfortable, just careful. Like we’re both unsure how to navigate the situation. It feels like we’re balancing on a wire and one wrong move will send it all crashing down.
I got straight A’s in school, but there was no class on how to live with a grumpy, reluctant mountain man of a boss who made it clear at every turn that he doesn’t want you here.
Then again, there was something else underlying Luke’s hostility toward me. It was almost a kindness, or maybe it was pity. I couldn’t quite figure him out.
I stack the plates before he can stop me and carry them to the sink.
“You don’t have to,” he says quickly, following me across the kitchen.
“I know.” I let the water run hot into the sink and squeeze a dose of soap under the tap. “But I ate,” I say. “So I help out. It seems fair.”
Besides, it gives me something to do with my hands.
For as prickly and openly hostile as he is, there’s also something about him that makes me want to reach for him.
It’s bizarre and against any self-preservation instincts that I should have, since he clearly doesn’t like me or want me in his space and is more likely to bat me away than pull me close.
Still.
Luke watches me for a moment, like he’s trying to decide if it’s a battle worth fighting. Finally, he gives me a short nod and goes to collect the rest of the dishes from the table.
When everything is clean and put away, there’s nothing left to do but face him again. The kitchen suddenly feels smaller, the air charged with something I don’t fully understand, but can’t ignore.
“Well.” I smooth my hands down the front of my sweater. “I should probably turn in.” I offer him a small smile.
He frowns in return. “Goodnight.”
When he doesn’t make a move to get out of my way, I step to the side to squeeze past him. But the space is too narrow for me to slip by his broad shoulders, and I end up brushing my chest against him. The contact is light and totally accidental, yet it hits with a shock of electricity.
My breath catches.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
I look up so my eyes meet his.
Then his jaw tightens, and he jerks backward, putting real space between us as if the contact burned him.
“Don't make this complicated.”
My chest tightens, shame burning through me. “I wasn’t…I didn’t mean to?—”
“Good,” he stops me. His expression is hard and unreadable. “Because you’re here for a reason.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “That wasn’t?—”