Chapter 2 #2
Gabriel’s gaze finally met hers and he offered her a wisp of a smile, causing the dimples in his cheeks to deepen, before checking his phone.
“I’m so sorry, Evelyn. I need to go.” His fingers swiped along the lit screen a few times, then he replaced the phone in his pocket and focused all of his charm on her.
“Can I call you? Maybe we can get dinner soon? Then we can discuss the website I’d like you to design for me.”
The richness of his voice seized her vocal cords, and she nodded.
Thank God her muscles worked and she could keep her mouth shut.
A slack-jawed stare of astonishment wasn’t exactly the impression she wanted to leave him with.
Especially when he could help her finally break all connections to her parents.
They might have died years ago, but using the money they’d left behind was like twisting the knife in her gut every time she paid her rent.
Landing an assignment of the caliber Gabriel Wilson could offer would not only cement her position as one of the top web designers in the city, but allow her to take care of herself financially— without using the tainted money from her parents.
Clearing her throat and fixing a slight curve to her lips, she said, “Absolutely. I’d like that.”
Gabriel brushed the tips of his fingers against the back of her hand. The hairs on her arm stood at attention, and a shiver raced down her spine. She coiled away her hand.
Was he interested in her? It had to have been a friendly touch...
yet her skin burned. She hoped she hadn’t given him the wrong impression—she had met him to discuss a possible job, nothing more.
She’d made that clear when he’d contacted her.
He leaned down to grab his coffee cup and offered her a tight smile then slid around the table toward the door.
She watched him walk away.
Gabriel turned to the side to avoid running into the stalking giant still marching toward her.
The man with the clean-shaven head stopped and stared down his slightly crooked nose at Gabriel.
He pressed his lips together, and black edged out the blue in his eyes.
Gabriel tilted his chin and hitched his mouth to one side, then he strode out the door.
The muscle man turned toward her, and Evelyn sucked in a breath.
His piercing gaze and clenched jaw relaxed and the once hardened features of his face turned...
handsome. His sculpted jawline could still slice through glass, but his lifted lips made his cheeks fuller and softened the planes of his face.
His broad form hovered over her, blocking out the commotion behind him, and she tilted her head back until their eyes locked.
Liquid heat pulsed at her core. Gabriel might have the polished good looks of a GQ model, but this guy gave the impression of a well-cut militia man straight from the jungle searching for his next conquest to chase away whatever demons plagued him.
Instinct told her to run, but attraction and intrigue held her in place.
Her gaze shifted to his large hands. An image of what those hands could do to her flashed in her mind, and a fierce blush stained her cheeks.
She steeled her spine and swallowed hard.
What was she doing? She shouldn’t be fantasizing about a man she didn’t know.
“Can I help you?” She hated the thready quality of her voice, but she couldn’t help it.
“Are you Evelyn Price?”
His voice was a bucket of ice water, washing away all thoughts of the wonderful things his hands could do. She shot up from the table and pointed a finger at the hard wall of muscles in front of her. “You! You’re the cop who called me. What? Now you’re stalking me?”
All the threats and accusations her parents had thrown at her as a child about law enforcement came rushing back. She had to get out of here.
“Please, will you just talk to me for a second?”
The quiet plea in his voice stood in stark contrast to the intimidating mass he presented.
She studied him, and the pain glowing from his eyes made her knees wobble.
She sank back in her seat. What were her options?
Hear him out then be on her way or get the hell out of here, only for him to find her again?
Besides, with her knees still the consistency of Jell-O, she wouldn’t get far.
She grabbed her cup, and the now-cold liquid splashed in her mouth. If this man had gone to such great lengths to track her down, she might as well get this over with. By showing up, he made it clear he wouldn’t just disappear.
“I want to see your badge and ID card.” Not like that mattered much to her anyway. One didn’t simply grow up and forget the lessons hammered into one’s brain from birth.
“I’m Detective Connor Mitchel, and yes, we spoke on the phone earlier.” His movements were slow as he grabbed his badge and took his ID from his wallet and handed them to her. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I was a little worked up.”
His forced laugh made her glance from his ID and back to his face.
A slight redness battled against his deep bronze cheeks, creating an innocence she wouldn’t have imagined possible in such a large man.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tapped his index finger against the side of his thigh.
He’s nervous. Anxiety loosened its nasty clutches around her gut. The idea she could cause a man—a detective for the NYPD no less—to be nervous piqued her interest.
Shifting her attention to his identification once more, she verified as much as she could and tossed the ID and badge on the table. “All right, Detective Mitchel. Take a seat. You’ve got five minutes.”