Chapter 8 #3
While he changed in the bathroom, he kept the door open a crack so that he could keep a pulse on Silver. She carried the bulk of the conversation, telling him about Cupid and Micah and her high hopes for the young man.
When he exited the bathroom, she held out her hand, dangling one of his ties from a finger. Had she gone through his clothes?
He frowned at her, only to have her smile up at him. Was there a little too much innocence to her expression?
He quickly wound the tie through his collar, then formed the first loop. As he tried to make a knot, she stepped in front of him and reached for the tie. At the brush of her fingers against his, he was suddenly immobile. He could do nothing but let her take over.
She was still talking about Micah, about his mother and how she was single and didn’t have insurance to cover the therapy. Silver worked at his tie without missing a beat in either her conversation or her tying.
He stared straight ahead and didn’t let himself look down at her.
Even so, her nearness was overpowering. The scent of coconut lingering in her hair from her shampoo, and the floral spritz of her expensive perfume.
The spearmint and warmth of her breath. The firmness and surety of her fingers as she tightened the knot of his tie.
Just the fact that she was standing mere inches from him made his muscles tighten with a need he didn’t want to think about. He had to break this closeness, had to step away, had to get them out of the tight quarters of the apartment.
As she fidgeted with the bottom layer of his tie, he stretched his neck. He shouldn’t be letting her fix his tie. It was much too intimate—something a married couple would do, not something an EPA and client would do. It was crossing every client-agent boundary out there.
He forced himself to take a step back.
She hung on, made a final adjustment, then patted him. “There.”
He knew he needed to say something, to at least tell her she couldn’t do that again. But what difference would it make? It would probably be the first and last time he wore a tie around her during the assignment.
She swiped up a suit coat from the bed and pushed it into his hand. “Last thing.”
Yes, she’d definitely gone through his clothes. “Isn’t the tie enough?”
“We’re going to a Michelin-starred restaurant.”
He took the dark-blue coat with a half scowl, even though he wasn’t really irritated. He’d done his share of fine dining over the years, since his family’s ranch in Healing Springs was a posh resort with its own Michelin-starred restaurant.
As they exited the apartment and descended into the yard, he typed out a text to Isaac regarding the change in plans. The helicopter had arrived on the ranch earlier, and now, as he and Silver headed toward it, Dustin slowed his steps to match hers.
“The quarter horses are gentle too,” she was saying. “But everyone absolutely adores Cupid. So I’m considering purchasing another.”
The helicopter pilot nodded as they approached the open side hatch. Isaac had already done a check on the older guy, who was a regular for the St. James family, had apparently flown Upton around for years, and now took Silver anywhere she wanted to go.
“What do you think?” she asked as she paused several feet from the helicopter. “Beryl says if I buy any more horses, I’ll need to hire another ranch hand, at least part-time.”
He held out a hand to assist her up into the chopper. “Nolan can handle one more horse. If he can’t, then you should find someone else who works harder.”
She took his hand and squeezed his fingers, her smile turning brighter. “See, that’s what I like so much about you. You’re direct and tell me what I need to hear.”
Her touch sizzled along his nerve endings. It reminded him of the one summer he’d worked up enough nerve to hold her hand. It hadn’t been their last strained summer together but the one before that.
His hormones had been kicking into high gear at that point, and he’d been noticing girls in a way he hadn’t really done before—especially Silver.
After a few days of being around her, he’d easily believed himself in love with her and had even fantasized about marrying her one day.
At that age, maybe it had been the next logical step from deciding to marry her to holding her hand.
She hadn’t resisted and had seemed to enjoy holding his hand back.
As she climbed into the helicopter, she didn’t seem to notice that their hands were touching, all the while he was keenly aware of every single pressure point of every single one of her fingers.
When she was seated and let go of him, he allowed himself to breathe again but was still too aware of the lingering warmth in his hand from where she’d touched him.
He had to stop reacting this way to her, which meant he had to stop the casualness of their interactions and stay professional. But how could he keep the boundaries without being cold and rude and hurting her?
He wasn’t sure what to do, but one thing was certain: If he wasn’t more careful, he was only going to cause them both trouble. And that’s the last thing he wanted.