“I was going to say that I needed to stop you right there because thinking about what you said to me this morning, about how you wanted to undo my suit pants as soon as I opened the door, makes it hard—” Ugh, wrong word. “Makes it difficult to think about work.”
He smiled at that. “Agreed. It most certainly does make it . . . hard.”
I sighed. “Are you twelve?”
“Around you, yes. It would seem so.”
I didn’t want to find that endearing. I didn’t want to like the fact that he could let his guard down around me. But a smile won out. “Come on, Kent Street’s this way.”
We found the storefront, I unlocked the door, and I knew from the second Bryce stepped inside, it wasn’t what he wanted. The layout would need more work than the previous place. It was cheaper rent but the location wasn’t ideal.
Bryce stepped out measurements, he tried to envisage how it would all work. “The counter would have to run this way for the refrigeration,” he said, panning his hands along the side wall. “And that looks like a load-bearing wall so it can’t be moved, unless we’re talking major recessed beams . . .” He groaned. “I saw the plans and photos and thought maybe it could work.”
“It’s not right for you,” I replied. “Not that I know exactly what you want the space for. And you don’t have to tell me. That’s fair. But I know almost every available retail site in the city centre. If I knew the purpose, maybe I could actually help.”
Bryce looked right at me and paused, as though he was weighing up whether he should trust me. “I haven’t told many people,” he said. “Basically, my father, the mates I was out with the other night, and my banker.”
“Fair enough.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.” He made a face. “I just don’t want you to think it’s stupid. I don’t want anyone to tell me it’s stupid.”
“I would never tell you it’s stupid?”
“Unless it’s legitimately stupid.”
I laughed. “Unless it’s morally or ethically questionable. Maybe not even then. No idea is stupid. It just needs to be done properly and marketed right.”
He smiled as if my words excited him. “Exactly! That’s what I said!”
“If someone tells you it can’t be done, what they’re saying is they couldn’t do it. If they’re not good enough or not brave enough to make it happen is something only they can answer.” I shrugged. Given that he was moving ahead with the venture told me his banker was on board, and Terrence was here with him today, so his mates were okay with it. And from the three groups of people he said he’d told, that only left his father.
Man, that sucks. Maybe what I’d said was a bit harsh, so I added, “People close to you shouldn’t tell you not to do something. They should still be supportive and say, ‘Let’s look at how best to market this,’ instead. Or open discussions on how to best tackle the problems.”
Bryce stared at me, then took three long strides toward me, grabbed my face in his hands, and kissed me soundly on the lips.
“Thank you for saying that. Everything you just said is exactly how I feel.”
I wasn’t even remotely sorry that he’d kissed me while we were both working. We were very much alone, and no one could see inside the store. And how could I be sorry when what I’d said had plucked an emotional chord in him?
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you. I just . . .”
My face felt as if it were on fire. “Don’t be sorry.”
He put his hand to his forehead, shook his head a little, and smiled. “I don’t know what it is about you . . .”
I laughed. “What?”
He met my gaze again, his stare intense. “Do you know what kopi is?”
Chapter Eight
Bryce
“Kopi,” he repeated. “That’s coffee, right?”
I grinned, relieved. I never had any intention of telling him about my plans, but once I’d started, I had to wonder why I’d ever considered keeping it from him.
He was supportive and excited, and he was, surprisingly, very insightful.
Why was I even shocked though?
He surprised me at every turn.
The more I told him about my concept, the more excited he got and the more excited I got. He could visualise everything I told him. He asked questions—so many questions—but his interest was genuine and well thought out. He wasn’t just nodding and smiling. He wanted to know things like products and location ideas.
“But this place is a bust.”
“Yeah, it’s no good. Not for what you need.”
“I think the York Street site was good. There was one I looked at yesterday too, it was on Pitt Street. It wasn’t bad.”
Michael shot me a look, and I wondered if he’d be pissed that I’d seen other properties. But nope. Like I said, surprising.
“King Street would be good if you can get it,” he said. “Pitt Street and York are both great locations.” But then his eyebrows knitted together. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You seem set on a business district or finance district location, and high-end retail.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And that’s great.”
“But?”
He smiled. “But . . . I could have a location that would suit you perfectly.”
Hmm. “Where is it?”
“King Street Wharf, Darling Harbour.”
I stared at him. Actually, I think my eyeballs almost fell out of my head. “Darling Harbour?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“What kind of outlay are we talking? Natalie never mentioned it.”
“Because it’s not official yet. The ink’s not dry on the contracts. And Natalie will probably kick my arse for telling you. But Bryce, I think it could be perfect for you.”
My heart banged against my ribs. “Say that again.”
He tilted his head. “Which part? The Natalie kicking my arse part? Or the ink not being dry?”
I chuckled and stepped in close. I lifted his chin and got lost in those sapphire eyes. “You know which part.”
His pupils dilated and his breath caught. He breathed the word I wanted to hear. “Bryce.”
I kissed him again, harder and deeper this time, tasting my name on his tongue. And so God help me, it was divine.
A buzzing phone interrupted us, which was probably just as well. It was Michael’s phone, and he took a step back from me, flushed cheeks and dazed, and answered the call. “Michael Piersen speaking.”
I couldn’t hear the words exactly, but the caller sounded female, and my money was on Natalie.
“We’re almost done here anyway,” Michael said. “No, I have a one o’clock with Hardy and Co. … Okay good, I’ll see you there.”
He clicked off the call and pocketed his phone. “The accident in the tunnel has been cleared. Natalie’s finally moving again.”
I checked my watch; it was almost twelve. I’d already kept him longer than I should have. “Shame we can’t grab lunch,” I said lightly. “But you have a one o’clock today.”