“Why is everything so effortless for you?” she asks with disbelief woven into her tone. “Don’t you ever doubt yourself? Don’t you ever question things?”
Her words hit me squarely in the solar plexus. Isn’t that why I took on this project? Because I doubt the man I am? Because I wonder if I’m more to everyone than the man who sits between his notable brothers? Because I want to know the eyes through which my father saw me?
“All the time,” I murmur without giving more of an explanation. Doesn’t she remember the bar that night? The turmoil I was in? I offer a smile. “This project. Our partnership. We’ll figure it out.”
She inhales a shaky breath and gives a definitive nod as she takes a step away and breaks our connection. After a moment, she turns back around with a more fortified smile. “Okay. I apologize again. I’m normally not one who needs a pep talk, so forgive me for sounding so . . . weak.”
“Not weak. More like strong. Determined. Admirable.” I shrug as she emits a nervous chuckle. “Taking chances is a hard thing to do. I promise it’ll all work out.”
“Thank you.” There is a softness to her tone that matches the look in her eyes. Both give me pause. Another more convincing smile as she takes a step back toward the conference room table. “Then it looks like we should be able to hit the ground running.”
“It does.” I turn to look at the plans, and then step up beside her. “You’ll get there tomorrow and do the final walk-through. I’ll be there Wednesday once I’m done with my meetings.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She tries to stifle a yawn but just gives in and lets it happen. “Sorry. It’s been a long couple of weeks.”
“Exciting weeks though,” I murmur as I lean forward and flip a page of the elevation drawings. “With even more exciting ones to come.”
“I know.”
We both move to leave, but as if choreographed, we turn and bump into each other. She wobbles on her heels, and I grab her biceps to steady her.
We’re face-to-face, chest to chest, and I’m reminded of the smell of her hair as she slept on my chest that night. The fullness of her lips as she murmured in her sleep. The warmth of her body against mine.
We both draw in ragged breaths as our eyes meet. We should step away from each other. We should let go.
But seconds pass.
Breaths are inhaled. Exhaled.
Goosebumps break out on her skin beneath my palms.
Every sense of mine is way too damn aware of her. Of everything about her.
My eyes dart down to her lips, to the pulse pounding in her neck, and then back up to her eyes as my body fights against reason. Against desire.
The ring of her cell phone has the two of us jolting apart as if we were doing something wrong.
Or perhaps about to.
I turn my back and pace a few steps from her as I run a hand through my hair and gain some distance.
“Chandler?” Her voice is soft, almost as if she doesn’t want me to hear.
Chandler. The same man who was on the phone the first night we met. Clearly, he’s still in the picture and the reason behind the tan line on her finger.
“I said I’ll be there.” Her sigh is one of frustration. “You know I won’t let you down.” She moves a few steps toward the window and looks out to the night beyond and murmurs something I can’t hear.
I begin to collect the prints and the papers to look like I’m not doing exactly what I am doing, eavesdropping.
“I understand. Yes. I have meetings all day with . . . clients. I’ll have to meet you there.” Her voice is soft, soothing even, and my curiosity is piqued. “Agreed. Okay.”
But no, I love you. No, I’ll see you later.
“Everything okay?” I ask absently as I roll up a set of blueprints and rubber band the roll of paper.
“Yes. Fine.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing.” I chuckle and spare a fleeting glance her way to find disquiet etched in her expression.
“It’s a long story.” She waves a hand my way as if to say it’s irrelevant. “Let me help you with that.”
“No, I’ve got it. Why don’t you take off?”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’ll have Phillip give you a ride home,” I say, mentioning my driver who’s taken her home before.
“I couldn’t impose. I’m sure you need him for—”
“I have an hour or two left here. Please. I insist.”
She gives me a halfhearted smile and nods. “Okay. Thank you.” She lifts her designer tote bag weighed down with her laptop onto her shoulder and looks around to make sure she hasn’t missed anything. Her eyes meet mine one last time. “I appreciate the pep talk, Fordham.”
I watch her walk out the conference room door, her heels clicking on the marble floors. The elevator dings. The door shuts. I take a seat and lean back in my chair, hands behind my head, feet propped up on the table, and exhale a long, low breath.
I know they’re already there.
I know they’ve been waiting for her to leave to make a comment.
“Shouldn’t you both be home with your families?” I crack one eye open and see Callahan standing, shoulder leaning against the doorway.
“Snaggletooth is looking absolutely horrid tonight.” Callahan coughs out a laugh and raises his eyebrows in appreciation.
Ledger whistles. “And you’re going to be living on-site with her for how long?”
I lift my middle finger at my brothers and then go back to closing my eyes and ignoring them.
“Beds everywhere,” Callahan says.
“Long nights alone. Just you. Just her. Just sheets to get tangled up in,” Ledger adds.
“If you looked close enough, she has a ring line on her finger,” I say.
“But no ring on it.” Ledger lifts his eyebrows and glances at Callahan. “So . . . she just broke up? She needs a good rebound screw?”
“Ha. That’s what I thought and look where that landed me,” Callahan teases, but I know he wouldn’t change his life for the world. “Married with kids.”
“Rebounds can be good. Great sex. No want for attachment.”
“Hell, Ledge, I think we should give him the same speech you two gave me when I headed to Ocean’s Edge to work with Sutton,” Callahan says, referring to a conversation we had the week before he left to go to the Virgin Islands with his then consultant—now wife.
“I don’t remember any conversation,” I mutter, full-well knowing what’s coming, and wishing for a beer to at least give me something to do while enduring this harassment.
“Selective amnesia. Convenient.” Ledger snorts.
“Let me refresh your memory. Something like: don’t sleep with her. Be professional. It’s our name on this company too, not just yours.” Callahan flashes a shit-eating grin at me. “Would you like me to keep going?”
“And you followed the rules so well.” I lift my eyebrows and level him with a look.
He shrugs. “Yeah, but breaking rules is expected of me.”
“And what exactly is expected of me?” I ask.
And isn’t that the question of the day?