Chapter 34
A Lesson in Distraction
Penny adjusted her sunglasses as she sauntered into the glass-and-steel lobby of Hawthorne Holdings, her gaze swept the space like she was plotting a hostile takeover.
“Alright,” she murmured under her breath as they neared the security desk, angling closer to Arden. “We’re clear on the mission, right?”
Arden gave her a side-eye. “There’s a mission now?”
“Yes,” Penny said, too brightly. “Step one: deliver lunch. Step two: distract Dan. Step three: you do whatever it is you do when you’re alone with Gideon.”
Arden resisted the urge to rub her temples. “You’re making it sound like we’ve launched a covert op.”
“Please,” Penny scoffed. “Everything about you two is covert. You think I don’t notice when you come home looking all post-apocalypse wrecked?”
Arden shot her a sharp glare, heat creeping up her neck. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Penny grinned. “Now come on. Let’s go feed your dangerously attractive billionaire before he starts snacking on underperforming executives.”
Once the call upstairs cleared them, the guard waved them through. They stepped into the waiting elevator, polished brass gleaming from every surface; the faint scent of cologne and citrus lingered in the air. Penny let out a low whistle of appreciation as the doors closed.
“This place smells rich,” she muttered, rocking back on her heels, testing for red carpet. “Where do they keep the poor people? In the sub-basement?”
As they rose, Arden’s pulse ticked faster.
She wasn’t nervous, not exactly.
But there was a gravity to entering his world.
To seeing him in it.
Gideon.
She hadn’t seen him since her car was vandalized.
Since the rose.
Since the cold, surgical message carved into what used to be her safe escape.
She’d spent half the night convincing herself it wasn’t that serious. That she was overreacting. That fear didn’t get to live here anymore.
And now?
Now she was walking into Gideon’s world with a bag of overpriced takeout and a half-formed plan to distract him. To keep him grounded. Or if she was being honest, to unground him completely.
Because one look from him, and the hunger in his eyes would have nothing to do with food.
The elevator chimed, opening onto the executive floor, sleek and gleaming, luxury muted beneath polished marble and glass walls.
Penny’s jaw dropped slightly. “Tell me this place doesn’t have a panic room and at least one button that opens a hidden weapons vault.”
“Behave,” Arden muttered.
“Define behave,” Penny said under her breath, lips twitching as her gaze found a familiar face ahead.
But Arden had tuned her out.
Because there he was. Watching her like a decision he hadn’t yet made.
Gideon stood at the end of the corridor, talking with Dan. He didn’t have to move or speak to draw attention; he simply was. The air seemed to recalibrate around him, steady and self-possessed in that impeccably tailored suit, posture perfect. Controlled. Powerful. Effortless.
When his eyes found hers across the space, the air shifted.
She saw it in the subtle change of posture. The way his grip on the glass in his hand flexed slightly. The near-imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.
Her stomach tightened, heat sweeping low and deep, but she didn’t break stride.
“Daniel,” Penny called out, her voice syrupy sweet.
Dan turned toward Penny, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. “Penelope… you bringing the chaos today?”
Penny tsked. “You know it. Didn’t you feel the shift the second I walked through the lobby? Your productivity’s tanking.”
Dan chuckled, crossing his arms. “Explains the energy dip.”
Arden sighed, regretting this plan. “Penny…”
“What? He started it,” Penny said innocently.
Dan’s eyes flicked to Arden. “So, is this a visit to Gideon, or did you bring her for entertainment?”
“Both,” she muttered, holding up the takeout bag like a peace treaty.
Dan smirked. “Well, if you’re looking for a distraction, I could give Penelope a tour. We can sit in the executive lounge and pretend she belongs.”
Penny gasped, clutching her chest. “You wound me, Daniel. I always belong.”
“You belong in the world of chaos,” Dan countered. “But come on. Let’s see if you can sit for five minutes without launching a social experiment.”
Penny didn’t hesitate. She linked her arm through his as if they’d done it a hundred times. “Lead the way, Daniel. I promise not to turn the boardroom into a runway.”
As they disappeared down the corridor, still bickering, Arden released a slow breath and turned toward Gideon.
The distraction crumbled, leaving only the magnetic pull of him, uncomplicated and undeniable.
This devastating man she’d come to distract?
He was watching her like she was the only thing worth seeing.
Gideon’s gaze didn’t just land: it locked. Not with surprise. Not with amusement.
But with a heat far more dangerous.
Possession.
It coiled beneath his polished exterior, dark and undeniable.
The part of him that belonged to civility had smoothly stepped aside.
Arden adjusted her grip on the takeout bag, as if food could anchor her against the pull in his stare.
“You brought me lunch?” he asked, his voice deceptively smooth.
“You do need to eat, don’t you?”
The smallest curve ghosted across his mouth, not quite a smile.
Not amusement.
A hunger barely contained.
His hand closed gently around her wrist, firm and unhurried.
She stepped in behind him, the quiet click of her boots muted by the plush carpet. The door eased shut behind them, soft but certain.
And the rest of the world fell away.
He’d barely survived the morning—one relentless meeting after another, an endless churn of numbers and egos. His tie was loosened, his patience frayed.
And then she showed up.
Arden. With a bag of overpriced takeout, a look that should’ve come with a warning label, and a smile that knocked every strategy out of his head.
This space, his, precise and controlled, belonged to her now.
She innocently set the bag on his desk.
Like she hadn’t knocked the air out of him by existing.
“Figured you wouldn’t come up for air,” she said. “Thought I’d be nice.”
He studied her, jaw tense. “You’re not being nice. You’re baiting me.”
“Would I do that?” She was grinning, and he knew the answer.
She watched him watching her.
And he was watching every inch of her.
“You’re staring, Blackwell.”
His voice dropped an octave. “And?”
She shifted slightly, and the motion nearly undid him. The curve of her hips. The unapologetic strength in her stance. The way her shirt clung to the sharp line of her waist. She knew what she was doing.
And he loved her for it.
He stepped in, his hand curling around her waist with quiet claim. The desk was at her back, his mouth near her ear.
“You think my obscenely gorgeous girlfriend can walk in here looking like that and expect me to keep my distance?”
She quirked an eyebrow, then recovered. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“I am… but not for lunch.”
Her breath slowed, but she didn’t flinch. She never did.
And that was what killed him.
He lifted her onto the desk in one smooth motion. Papers scattered. Her legs parted to welcome him.
The kiss landed hard, deep and unrelenting. His hands framed her face, pulling her in. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, dragging him closer. Their mouths moved with intent, urgent and hungry.
She gasped when his lips found her neck, his breath skating along skin that flushed beneath his touch. She clawed at his shoulders, trying not to melt and failing.
He’d barely heard his own voice when he rasped, “I should lock the door.”
“You should.”
Knock
The sound cracked through the haze. Dan.
Arden bit her lip, grinning. “You could ignore it.”
He groaned, resting his forehead to hers. “You have no idea how much I want to.”
Knock.
“Gideon, you in there? The call with Paris is in five.”
Then Penny’s voice. “Ooooh, Paris. Fancy.”
An exasperated Dan muttered, “I thought I asked you to stay in my office.”
“Come on, Daniel. You knew that wasn’t going to happen.”
Arden laughed softly. “I swear, her timing is a weapon.”
Gideon sighed, dragging one last kiss from her lips. “This is not over.”
“I’d be disappointed if it was.”
He stepped back, barely enough to let her slide off the desk,
She smoothed her clothes with the kind of composure that nearly ruined him.
When the door opened, Dan looked mildly traumatized. Penny looked smug.
Arden breezed past them like nothing had happened.
And Gideon?
He wanted to cancel every meeting for the rest of the year.
Penny didn’t wait long to start in.
“So… how’s Gideon?”
“Fine,” Arden said tightly.
“Uh-huh. And how’s your blood pressure?”
Arden leveled her with a look. “Penny.”
“What? I didn’t say anything,” Penny said innocently.
They stepped into the elevator. Arden hit the lobby button and tried to ignore the way her body buzzed from everywhere Gideon had touched.
“You were going to.”
Penny clasped a hand to her chest. “I would never.”
The doors opened.
Arden walked fast.
Penny caught up faster and was practically radiating glee. “Well, you do look a little… undone. Was that a lunch delivery or a hostile seduction?”
“Coffee,” Arden muttered. “We’re getting coffee. Not having an interrogation.”
“I can multitask.”
?
By the time Penny had an oat milk latte and Arden had something… a bit stronger, the conversation had shifted to weekend plans.
“We should do karaoke again,” Penny said, stirring her drink. “It’s been too long since you belted out something tragic and sexy and had an entire room fall in love with you.”
Arden snorted. “That is not what happens.”
“It’s literally what happens every time. Rachel has a conspiracy theory about it.”
Arden shook her head, but the warmth settled in.
While Penny waxed poetic about sequin dresses, Arden’s mind drifted.
To Gideon. To his hands. To the way he’d looked at her like she was the only thing he’d ever need.
Penny waved a hand. “Hello? Earth to Arden? Did you astral project back into your boyfriend’s arms or—”
“Shut up.”
Penny gasped. “You did.”
Arden refused to confirm. “Tell me more about karaoke night.”
Penny grinned, victorious. “You’re on the list. No backing out.”
Arden sighed. “Fine.”
Penny clapped. “Perfect! Now let’s go try on clothes we can’t afford and pretend we’re rich.”
Arden laughed. “Lead the way.”
And she let herself have it all.
The caffeine.
The chaos.
The illusion of safety wrapped in laughter .
And the fiery imprint of Gideon’s mouth against her skin.