Chapter 5 #2
She straightened her clothes, skin still tingling everywhere he’d touched. That had been amazing. She struggled to pull her gaze from him as he put on his shirt. Fantasies taunted her of waking up next to him. Wandering around his house in nothing but that shirt.
She pushed the thoughts away, veins flooding with irritation at herself.
She’d sated the teenager inside. The little girl who had been swooning over her older brother’s best friend for as long as she could remember had gotten what she wanted.
It had been incredible, but that just meant she could move on with no regrets. Right?
His eyes met hers, holding her attention captive.
A wicked smile tugged up the corner of his mouth.
He closed the distance between them in a few short steps, and knotted his fingers in hair again.
His mouth crashed down on hers, and she yielded to the kiss without hesitation.
He let her go far too soon for her liking, and stepped back.
His teasing, seductive tone tickled her thoughts. “I’m feeling better. You?”
She ducked her head, heat flooding her cheeks.
Was she supposed to say thank you? Tell him he was as much responsible as she was?
Definitely not ask when they were doing it again.
She forced confidence and professionalism to the forefront, despite the way lust kicked and clawed to maintain her attention.
She was grateful her voice stayed even when she replied.
“I take back anything I said yesterday. The random hookup was way better than trying to find a guy online.” She plowed forward before he could reply, not sure she could maintain her mask otherwise. “We have a deadline, right?”
It would be good to stay focused. She’d keep from lingering too long on emotions she couldn’t possibly unravel right now.
Feelings she shouldn’t have. If they dove back into work, everything could go back to what it had been before tonight.
Was it last night that had been the catalyst?
Or eight years ago? Or— she shook the rambling thoughts aside.
“Work. Right.” He nodded at her chair. “There are storyboards and a script for you to approve.” He let out a shaky breath. “You sure you’re okay?”
Arrogant asshole. Irritation flared inside. Like she couldn’t cope with a simple thing like a fling? A retort rushed to her lips.
He wasn’t done. “With this whole Thompson thing and the news?”
Her angry comeback evaporated as her gut deflated in on itself.
Right. That. The question was a more painful reminder than anything else that he’d been comforting her, and her entire world was about to crumble for more important reasons than her childhood crush didn’t feel the same way about her that she did about him.
She gave him a weak smile. “I’m good. If we get this done, it helps, right?
Shows people the shelter is the real deal? ”
“I suspect it’ll help.”
She focused on the sentiment, and the business of things, and dropped into her desk chair. She navigated to the files automatically. He would have placed them on their shared folder on the cloud.
A knock echoed through the room, and she jumped at the sudden banging.
She giggled at her own antics. Tate gave her one more glance, furrowed his brows in concern, and smoothed down his shirt before unlocking the door.
She pulled her hair back and twisted it into a knot, sticking a pen through to hold it in place.
At least if it was a mess, tying it up would hide it a little.
Would people be able to tell? Were her cheeks flushed?
Mouth swollen and red? Her fingers twitched against the keyboard as she resisted the urge to trace her them over her lips to check.
Greg—the guy who was taking video of the animals—hovered in the doorway. She’d met him a couple of times at company parties. He was a nice guy. A little hard core when it came to his love of video, but Jared was the same about machines so it didn’t faze her.
The moment her brother’s name popped into her head, she dropped her face into her palms. Would Greg know what they’d been up to?
Did the rest of the office know? He was going to tell her brother.
Shit. She’d have to deal with another lecture about why she couldn’t get involved with his colleagues, or anyone, really, as far as she could tell.
Why he’d be happier if she joined a convent…
“What do you think?” Tate’s question shattered her out of control thoughts, and she yanked herself back into the conversation.
Greg was gone, and her office door stood wide open.
Tate was on the other side of her desk, thumbs hooked in his pockets, watching her.
“Do you need a couple more minutes to read?”
Right, she was approving the storyboard and script. “Yeah, give me a sec. Sorry.”
She could stay as calm and collected as he was. What they’d done was meant to take the edge off her stress, and it had done that. She was going to ignore the new layer of tension that had drifted in instead. Besides, she promised Tate she didn’t want more.
So she’d swallow the impulse—her preprogrammed desire to make sex into something emotional—and she’d move on, just like he was. She glanced up from her monitor, surprise filling her when she saw his fingers drumming on his leg, and his toes tapping.
She pushed the observation aside and went back to work. All she had to do was act normal and it would all be fine. Right?