15. Under Your Nose
UNDER YOUR NOSE
“Just drop us off out front, Marcus,” Fletcher said forty minutes later.
“I can go up alone,” Paris argued.
For a non-date, that was sure one of the best dates she’d had in a long time.
Not the fancy part of it.
That was more like business.
And though she was used to being in settings like that, it was the last place she wanted to be.
All those eyes on her. Maybe not her and just her table, but they were still eyes.
For someone who wanted to stay out of people’s view, it just made her uncomfortable.
Or it could have been the smoking kind-of-bodyguard next to her that was doing it.
Yeah. It was that. Totally that.
From the ease in which he wore a suit, to the way he tried to relax her.
It hadn’t worked.
Not until they got their second dinner of the night.
The one he bought before she could get her card out. Then he sat next to her in the booth.
Yep, it was for protection. She knew. But it was silly.
And maybe her mind went to thoughts it had no business doing.
“I’m bringing you up,” he said. “No arguing.”
“How are you getting home if you just get dropped off?”
“I’ll see you in thirty,” he said to Marcus and shut the door that she’d just climbed out of.
“Oh. So he’s coming back?”
“Yes. There is no reason for him to sit out front and by the time he fills the tank up and comes back it’ll be thirty. He’ll text when he’s on the way.”
“Got it.”
So it had nothing to do with spending some more time with her.
He was probably bringing her upstairs, looking around at nothing, then would leave and wait in the lobby for Marcus to return and bring him home to his son. And she had to remember that.
He had a kid at home. And had been divorced.
He confessed to her the reasons for it.
Unless he was making it up.
Could he do that?
Why would he just open up with her otherwise unless he was only yanking her chain?
The minute they were in her apartment, he moved around checking in the rooms, then returned to her by the door.
“Nothing, right? Other than my bed calling my name.”
“You’ve got the first room, right?”
It was the first time he’d come in here. “What gave it away? The picture of France on the wall?”
Her sister’s little joke when they got their first place together.
France for her, England for London. So they knew who had what room.
She rolled her eyes over it, but she took that picture with her everywhere she moved and always hung it in her bedroom.
London did the same.
“No,” he said. “You’ve got a different style than your sister.”
“Not chaotic?”
“I’m not sure I’d say that.”
“What?” she asked, her hand going to her heart. “I’m not the least bit chaotic. That was a joke. Now you’re hurting my feelings.”
His smile was slow and steady. Sure. Like he had all the time in the world. Or thirty minutes.
“I doubt I did that.”
“Maybe just a little.” She kicked her shoes off and picked them up.
“I thought you could run a marathon in them.”
“I walked enough, that’s close to a marathon for me.”
“So you lied?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“That could be two of us tonight,” she said, lifting her chin.
He frowned, his neck going back, his face a little squished. “What did I lie about?”
“Your past. Your ex-wife?”
“Really?” he asked. “How is that?”
She walked into her room, then into her closet to put her shoes away. She wanted out of this dress also, but wasn’t crazy enough to do that until he left.
“Do you really believe that I think you opened up that much about your wife to me when before tonight you could barely hold more than a ten-second conversation?”
“You think I made that up?”
“Didn’t you?”
“The only thing I lied about tonight was me not wanting more of your sandwich. It was really good.”
She let a laugh slip out. “It was. We could have swapped. Your burger was pretty great also.” She hesitated over his silence.
“That really happened to you with your wife? You expect me to believe that she was doing this without your knowledge? I know you had some supervisory role at your last job. No way West would hire someone not more qualified than what he even needed. He probably sought you out rather than you applying.”
“I wasn’t lying about Lorraine. She’s my ex. She cheated on me for years.” His voice stayed level, but something hardened underneath it. “Maybe it’s a lesson that when you’re too comfortable things can slip right under your nose.”
He walked toward her.
She held her ground. His presence pressing into her space. Their chests almost touching.
She wasn’t backing down. Didn’t seem he was either.
“I’m far from comfortable.”
“You weren’t earlier. I saw it. And in order for you to be normal. Act normal. Pull off this ridiculous thing about us being a couple or on a date, you needed to not look as if I was scaring the shit out of you.”
She lifted her chin. She would have crossed her arms if they wouldn’t have brushed against him.
“So it was about me?” she asked.
“Isn’t that what you’re used to? Having it be all about you?”
“Oh,” she said, shaking her head, her hair flying everywhere. “Now you’re deflecting. You let your wall down and I called you out on it and you’re feeling vulnerable.”
Damn it. She jumped the gun thinking he was lying.
But it didn’t make sense.
“I rarely feel vulnerable about anything.”
“But you have?” she asked.
“Everyone does. If anyone says otherwise they are lying.”
“So... what you said about Lorraine, that was all true?”
“I don’t make a habit of lying,” he said, nudging closer. She stepped back and hit the wall. She hadn’t realized how close she was to it in her bedroom where he’d followed her after she’d put her shoes away.
“Then I’m sorry. I’m just... confused. You barely speak to me. And trust me, I’ve tried before. You give me nothing. Then tonight, you gave me more than I could have imagined. You even started it mentioning your son.”
“I did. I’m regretting that now.”
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t have regrets. It’s me. I’m so messed up right now I’m not thinking straight.”
“Maybe you’re not alone,” he said, his eyes searching hers.
There was heat there. A crazy amount of heat.
She’d made enough missteps tonight, what the hell was one more?
It wasn’t as if she couldn’t tell he was attracted to her.
She didn’t plan it. Didn’t weigh the consequences or talk herself into it or pretend it was anything other than what it was.
She just moved.
Her hand curled into the front of his shirt. Quick, like she needed something solid to anchor herself. Then she kissed him.
It was brief. Messy. Not careful at all.
Not like she lived her life.
His breath hitched, surprise flashing across his face for a fraction of a second before instinct took over. His mouth answered hers, firm and sure, heat flaring fast enough to make her toes curl into the cool wood she was standing on.
One heartbeat. Maybe two. Long enough for her to think, Oh. Oh no.
Then, oh yeah, give me more.
But he broke it sooner than she wanted.
He caught her wrists gently but decisively, creating space between them as he stepped back. Not rough. Not angry. Controlled in a way that made her chest ache with what was going to come next.
That he was regretting more than just opening up with her.
“Paris,” he said, his voice strained.
The loss of him was immediate. The warmth. The solid certainty of his body so close she could feel his heat.
The thought that maybe he wanted this just as much as her.
That his looks, his glances, his lengthy stares were real flirting.
She swallowed. “I—”
“This can’t happen,” he said, dropping her hands and putting more space between them. As if he needed it to function again.
The words landed harder than she expected. Worse than if he’d laughed. Worse than if he’d kissed her again.
Her hands fell to her sides, feeling suddenly useless. “Because of your job?”
“Because of everything,” he said. His jaw flexed like he was holding something back. “Because I don’t do impulsive. And because if I don’t stop this now, I won’t.”
That didn’t help.
That only made her want to dig her feet in for some more.
Did he not realize it was as if he’d just tossed a red flag in front of her to charge?
She didn’t do well being told to back down when she was ready to dig in.
She laughed softly, because the alternative was letting him see just how deep that cut. “Wow. So I finally get you to break that perfect control thing, and you shut it down like it never happened.”
“It happened,” he said immediately. Too quickly. “That’s the problem.”
He took another step back, putting distance between them that felt deliberate and necessary and absolutely brutal. His dark eyes stayed on her, conflicted as if walking away cost him something too.
“I shouldn’t have let you do that,” he added.
Oh no. Now she understood what went through London’s mind when instinct kicked in over thought.
“Let me?” she asked, stalking closer.
One step. Then two.
He was against the wall this time.
And smirking. Humoring her.
Did he not know you didn’t do that to a woman?
“Yeah,” he said. “What, do you think you can take me?”
“Gun or not, yep, I can.” She slapped her hands on his chest. “Fight me off. Because I know you don’t want to.” Their gazes were locked, but there was silence. “You say you don’t lie. Prove it.”
His mouth crushed hers.
There was no holding onto the other. Nothing like that.
It was lip action only.
Until it wasn’t. Until it was more.
His tongue slipped in. They tangled and danced.
Her body was filling with more heat than frustration now.
When she moaned low in her throat. When she was ready to put her arms around his neck.
He broke the kiss again.
And this time, he moved back.
Several steps. Cooling them both down.
“Now, I’m leaving.”
“Wait!” she said, chasing him to the door. “Just like that? You’re going to kiss me breathless, work me up, then leave me hanging?”
He laughed, his eyes almost burning the dress off her. “Oh, I’m sure you know how to take care of that.”
“That’s crude.”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning closer. “You won’t be alone tonight.”
Which was something as he walked out her door.
She sank against the wall in the foyer, her legs almost ready to give out on her.
But she pushed herself up, went to her room and got out of the dress, then jumped in the shower hoping to cool off.
Didn’t work.
Not knowing where he lived, or if he was home, she sent him a text.
This isn’t over yet.
The bubbles popped up on her screen. Not by a long shot.
The grin filled her face while she tried to think of the next move.
If she even had one, because something told her, she might have played all her cards at once tonight.