18. Famous Last Rules #2
“I don’t know if it was a one-night thing or what it is to you but—”
“It’s not,” he cut in.
“Not what?” I asked, thrown off from my train of thought.
“A one night thing,” he recited what I’d just said, but the words sounded like they brought a bitter taste to his mouth.
“Oh okay…” I was surprised at his response.
I’d pictured this conversation going a completely different way.
I thought I’d be letting him off the hook from him having to have the it’s-not-you-it’s-me talk.
The I’m-just-not-looking-for-anything-serious talk.
I’d sort of expected him to stay quiet and then agree to whatever I said.
From what I’d heard around town, he wasn’t really known for relationships.
But he had said things to me, that I made him want things he never had before. But those were words, and I’d heard plenty of pretty words before in my life.
Once again, I scrambled for professionalism, trying to find my footing, and failed.
“We need to set some boundaries. Guidelines. If this…thing—” I gestured between us, as if this explained everything, “—is going to happen, it can’t mess with work.
Or Maverick. Or my life. Or yours. Or, you know, our jobs. ”
He shifted, coming around to my side of the desk, leaning on the edge beside me, his arms crossed, now close enough that I could see the darker flecks in his irises, the fine scar by his eyebrow, the way his mouth pressed together when he was amused but trying not to show it. “So you’re proposing we make rules.”
“Yes. Rules.” It was difficult to keep my train of thought when he looked and smelled so good I just wanted to throw myself into his arm, which was even more tempting now that I knew how they felt around me. I cleared my throat. “We both need to go into this seeing it for what it is.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth with a look that that had me burning up from the inside out. I was finding it hard to breathe.
“And what is it?” he asked.
I squared my shoulders, determined to sound like a woman in charge of her own destiny and not a woman who had, less than twelve hours ago, been a writhing, panting mess under this man. “It’s…it’s just two people acting on their attraction to each other, nothing more.”
His mouth flatlined, and for the briefest second, emotions I couldn’t quite name flashed on his face, but as soon as it appeared it was gone, back to being unreadable.
He looked at me for a long moment, then shrugged. “Okay. Let’s hear the rules.”
I drew a breath. “Number one, nothing happens at work.”
“Again,” he stated.
“What?”
“Nothing happens at work again,” he clarified with a half-grin.
I was glad he found this amusing because I sure didn’t.
“Number two, Maverick can’t know. Ever.”
His brows furrowed. “He’s four.”
“And he’s bright and picks up on things you would never think he would. He already asks about, and talks about you more than is healthy, and I don’t ever want to do anything to confuse him.”
He nodded, suddenly seeming to take this more seriously.
“Number three, no one can know. Not your family, not our coworkers, not Nonna or Gen, not anyone.”
“No witnesses,” he deadpanned. “Got it.”
“Number four, no promises. No commitments. No drama.”
He tilted his head. “Sooo you’re saying I shouldn’t have reserved the ranch for our wedding in December?”
Aww, a winter wedding. How did he know I’d always wanted that? I blinked, realizing he was messing with me and ignored his statement altogether.
I continued with an exhale, “Number five, either one of us can end it, any time, no explanations, no hard feelings.”
“Should I be taking notes?” he asked with mock sincerity.
I bulldozed on, not letting him distract me with his witty charm. “Number six, no feelings, period.”
The look in his eyes changed. It darkened and making my insides tingle. “If we are doing this, I am definitely going to make you feel things, that’s the whole point.”
A shiver of delight rushed through me at his interpretation of my rule. “Not those feelings, I mean no falling in love.”
He didn’t flinch, but something in his eyes changed. “That’s the rule, huh?”
“That’s the rule,” I confirmed.
He stepped back to what he probably thought was a safe, professional distance. “How do you plan on enforcing that rule?”
“Easy, we both agree to it.” Even I didn’t believe the B.S. I was spewing. No one could control how they felt about another person, but at least this way I had an emotional trap door I could escape through when things got too much for me.
He looked at me for a long moment, and I realized I was holding my breath in anticipation of his response.
Finally, his eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to me, leaning on the desk. “What if I don’t agree to that?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Then that’s it. We go back to…”
“To pretending we don’t gravitate to each other? To pretending we don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off? To pretending we’re not making excuses to see each other?”
“I haven’t made excuses to see you.” Had I? I didn’t think I had.
“Oh.” He grinned. “Okay, I guess that was just me then.”
Despite myself, I felt myself grinning as I tried to stay focused on the conversation at hand. “We go back to the way things were.”
“So there’s no room for negotiation, on any of them?”
Part of me was really curious to see which rules he didn’t agree with. Another part of me was terrified, because the truth was, there was a good chance the man standing in front of me could easily persuade me to his side.
I took a deep, fortifying breath. “No.”
“Fine. I accept.”
“That easily?”
“Sure.”
I stared at him suspiciously. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”
“Because you are.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “What?”
He leaned closer. “You made a lot of rules about what we can’t do, sweetheart. I’m just thinking of all the things we can.”
With that statement, he turned and walked out the door, leaving me hot, bothered, and my mind filling in the blanks of what he might mean by that.