Chapter 6
SIX
Colt
“Happy Monday, Mr. Fowler!” Rowan calls to me as she rounds the corner into my office, toting with her the same massive water bottle she always carries, marked with the times of the day on one side, ‘today will be a good day’ printed on the other.
She had said something about ‘manifesting the day you want’ and ‘the laws of attraction’ when I pointed out that she always had the same bottle with the same quote with her, every single day.
“Happy Monday, Rowan,” I echo, a grin tugging at my lips.
Every day for three months, she’s popped into my office upon her arrival, greeting me the same way. Every day for three months, that simple greeting has made me smile.
“Did you have a nice weekend?”
“I did,” she tells me. “I went on a date on Saturday.”
“Oh?”
“With Emmett, actually,” she tells me as she pulls a lock of hair behind her ear, her finger ever so gently tracing the angle of her jaw as she brings her hand back down. I can’t help the wandering of my eyes as I follow it.
I can’t help noticing the way her skirt hugs her hips or the sway of them as she moves around my office. The way her blouse moves, teasing just the smallest hint of cleavage as she shimmies out of her coat and hangs it up. Shit.
“Good— for the two of you,” I say, “did it go well?”
If she’s with Emmett, that stops this. The staring. The thoughts I shouldn’t have about someone so much younger than me. I’m nearly twice her age, for fuck’s sake, she’s just a girl. This is good.
“Yeah, we had a good time.” Pulling a stack of paperwork from my desk, she adds, “But I think we’re probably just gonna stay friends.”
Shit.
“Did something happen?” I ask, trying not to sound too invested.
“Oh, no. He was a perfect gentleman,” she says with a wink. “It just wouldn’t be a match like that.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
You have no idea how sorry.
She tucks the papers under her arm and, like she’s trying to reassure me, says, “It’s no biggie. There’s plenty of frogs in the pond.”
“Do you mean ‘fish in the sea’?” I laugh.
“No, ‘cause you have to kiss the frogs to get your prince. Come on, Mr. Fowler, keep up.” She throws me a playful wink, snapping her fingers, then she gestures toward the stack of paper under her arm. “I’m gonna get these faxed for you. Anything else on the agenda for the day?”
“We’ll be stopping by the new development later this afternoon, but aside from that, it should be a fairly quiet day for us,” I tell her.
“Sounds good,” she nods, “I’ll be in the copy room if you need anything. Just shout.”
I try and fail to peel my eyes away as she turns and walks out of my office, hips swaying with each step. My gaze stays glued to her ass until she’s out of view, and I lean back in my chair with a sigh.
I’m going to hell.
·
As Rowan settles into her seat and buckles in, I close the passenger door of my blue X5 then circle back to the driver’s side and climb in. I explain to her what the purpose of the visit is today, what to expect, what will be expected of her – anything that keeps the focus on work.
Her skirt has ridden up, just a couple of inches, but it’s enough to give me a glimpse of those legs, another pair of stockings – nude, today – that reach up to her thighs, just a sliver of the scalloped lace top peeking out from under the hem of her skirt.
Thoughts of touching those thighs, feeling how soft her skin is, fill my mind. I grab onto the gear shift with a vice grip and hope to god she doesn’t notice that it’s an automatic.
I park away from all of the work trucks and cargo vans – just in case – and hop out of my seat before making my way to open Rowan’s door and help her out of the car.
“You weren’t kidding about the gentleman thing,” she teases with her hand in mine as she gets her feet on the ground.
God, her skin is so fucking soft.
Upon entering the building, we’re approached by one of my contractors, wearing a wide smile. His eyes travel up and down Rowan’s body as he walks toward us and it sets my teeth on edge.
“Mr. Fowler, what’s up?” His hand reaches out to shake mine, before moving to Rowan. “Logan.”
“Ro,” she says, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Logan’s a good kid, he’s got a good head on his shoulders.
Great at his job, reliable. He’s got to be smart, to do what he does.
He’s a hell of a lot closer to her in age than I am.
But the way that he’s looking at her right now suddenly has me feeling protective over her and I don’t want him to touch her, don’t want him to make her one of his one-night flings and forget about her in the morning.
“Rowan is my assistant,” I say, throwing authority into my voice with a hand between her shoulder blades, “she’s here to take down some notes for me.”
“Rad, sure,” Logan nods, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Davis is back in the office space.”
“Good.”
I lead Rowan away from him, steering her toward the space that will eventually hold a decent-sized administrative office.
“You don’t like that guy,” she whispers.
“I like him fine.” My voice is more clipped than I intend it to be, and I can feel her immediately tense under my touch.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, and now I feel like an asshole.
Davis stands in the empty space, hands on his hips, as he slowly turns to take in the wallpaper design we’ve chosen: a deep red background with slightly lighter damask printed over it, the design metallic, making it pop against the matte of the background.
“Good shit, brother,” he says with a nod.
“We saw the trucks outside, is everything ready for install today?”
“Yeah,” he tells me, “we’re right on track to open.”
Rowan clears her throat from behind me. “Sir,” Jesus, don’t call me that. “Should I be taking those notes now?”
“Uh,” I stammer, “yeah. Go ahead and log what all is being delivered today. For my records. Thanks, Rowan.”
I’ve never pulled such a bullshit task out of thin air before.
I don’t actually have anything for her to do, I just wanted to have her here.
She doesn’t even question it, she just takes her little tablet and sweeps out of the room, ready to do as she’s been told.
I could swear she exaggerates the movement of her hips as she leaves, as if she can feel my eyes on her.
As if she wants me to watch.
When I return my gaze to Davis, he stands with his arms crossed at his chest, arching an eyebrow with a knowing smirk across his face.
“Shut up,” I order him, holding up a finger.
“I didn’t say a goddamn word,” he tells me. He saunters past me, then stops to point toward the door. “But you better get out there before Logan decides to help her.”
Ah, shit.
I hurry out of the room to find Rowan looking around, tapping occasionally on her tablet. She bites at her bottom lip – either from focus or from my snapping at her; I can’t tell which, and that feels like shit.
She bends to look at the packing slip on a box, tapping away at the screen of the tablet to take down a list of its contents, then snaps a picture of the label before standing. When she does, she leans against a nearby table and sets down the tablet before pulling her hair back behind her ears.
“How’s it going?” I ask, trying to keep my approach casual.
“Good, Mr. Fowler.” She seems to take a deeper breath than usual. “I’m gonna go out to the trucks next.”
Maybe it’s the lighting – the bulbs aren’t exactly throwing the tone I’d wanted. I’ll have to let Logan know I need warmer bulbs in here – but her skin looks a few shades paler out here.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes, sir. I’m fine.” She shoves herself off of the table and grabs her tablet again with a shaking hand. “I should be done soon.”
“Rowan—”
My hand reaches out for her arm, but she scoots past it, heading out to the parking lot before I can say anything else.
An hour passes before I see her again, climbing out of the back of one of the still-full cargo vans, clutching her tablet to her chest. Logan follows after her, a wide grin on his face.
Did they just…?
I shake my head, sending the unwanted thought away, and I step up to them.
“Rowan, if you’ve gotten everything down, we’re all finished here.”
“Yep,” she tells me, “I got everything.”
She swipes through the app on her tablet, quickly showing me the sheer amount of items she’s written down for me. For a bullshit task, this is actually going to come in really handy for our books. She did some really solid work today.
She climbs into the passenger’s seat and I close the door behind her. When I get into the driver’s seat and turn the key in the ignition, she mutters, almost under her breath, “You acted like a frog in there.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Frog or prince,” she says. “Pick one and stick to it.”