He shook his head.
“Jerk-Ryan.”
Not as bad as he expected. Most of the women he knew would’ve called him something much worse. Asshole or fuckwit were perennial favorites.
“But my friend called you something NSFW.”
Ah. There you go.
“I wanted to call and apologize that night,” he said. “But…”
“You realized you’d been on the wrong date.”
He nodded. Elissa pressed her lips together and twisted them to the side in an effort to think through her options. It was damn cute.
“Okay, I’ll accept your apology,” she said after a moment. “But on two conditions.”
Ryan couldn’t keep the smile from creeping up. “Name them.”
“First, why did you want to avoid working here?”
“I’m the black sheep. Zero interest in the family business. My dad thinks I’m wasting my life and told me he’d cut me off from the trust fund my grandparents set up if I didn’t clean up my act. Working here was one way, but I thought if I could bring home someone more to their liking, I could get them off my back.”
“So, you asking me to be arm candy was a compliment?”
“No, it was a dick move. I don’t always think through the consequences. What’s the second condition?”
“Take me on another date.”
twenty-one
tall order
The words came out without a conscious choice. Elissa had planned on asking him to take the boxes to her car. They looked heavy. His arm muscles had flexed with the strain of lifting them under the snug-fitting dress shirt he wore, driving every sane thought out of her mind.
The heat rose in her cheeks again. She’d never asked a man out before. Where the hell had this come from? What the fuck was she thinking? Swear jar.
Elissa kept her eyes on Not-Actually-a-Jerk Ryan. The brilliant smile he’d worn while escorting her to the file room returned, sending her heart into palpitations. Warmth settled places that hadn’t received attention from a man in some time. This could be a wonderful thing. It could also blow up in her face.
“Done!” he said before she could take her words back.
Ryan lifted the second box, muscles flexing once again. She caught her breath as though she’d been running. He placed it gently on top of the other box, and when he rose, he was standing a few inches away, a knowing smirk on his lips. She ached to close the distance between them and kiss his smirk into oblivion. He smelled enticing, looked enticing. For a heartbeat, she considered dropping caution like a hot potato, but he stepped away.
“Let’s get these loaded, and then I’ll collect on that condition.” He turned toward the door.
She held the front door open for him as he wheeled her cart to her car. Elissa popped the trunk. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him, how his body moved with ease as he lifted the heavy boxes, how his butt looked as he loaded them, and how his carefully styled hair fell over one eye. She startled when he closed the trunk and turned to her, his smirk back. Dammit.
Another dollar to the swear jar. She might not be a permanent resident of her parents’ home anymore, but she was staying there right now. She’d count tonight and make suggestions for family fun night.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, frantically suppressing the instinct to fan her heated face.
“Are you free Thursday?” Ryan leaned against her car.
“Yes.” The word was out before she could stop it, even though she hadn’t checked her calendar, even though she hadn’t given a single thought about her darn calendar. She might regret it later, but this man made her giddy, disregarding all her usual precautions.
“Great! I know the perfect place. Give me your number, and I’ll text you the address. How does five work?”
“Five thirty,” she countered before giving him her phone number. It was tax season. The days of getting out early were gone until April.
