“Shit, that is up there,” I murmured.
I tilted my head and stared at the loose corkscrew curls escaping her bun. I heard no trace of the Down East accent in her voice.
Imagining such a sophisticated woman living on the rugged, barren coast of Maine wasn’t an easy throw. I didn’t doubt she could survive up there. I got the sense Andy was capable of turning an actual cave into a two-bedroom condo. Maine just didn’t fit her.
“And you don’t like seafood? That really is blasphemy.”
“What can I say?” She dragged a brussels sprout through the spicy mustard and popped it in her mouth. There was nothing specifically sensual about it but I was adjusting myself at the sight.
Anythinginvolving Andy’s mouth turned me on.
“Come to the seacoast with me this weekend. I’ll change your mind,” I vowed, snatching a few pickles from her plate. “Think of it like a dive tasting menu meets pub crawl.”
She shot me an unimpressed glance. “Maybe—”
“Do you have other plans?”
I looked away when she speared another brussels sprout. Between her hair and the sprouts, my balls were on the verge of becoming a new shade of blue.
“Yoga and the farmers’ market. And an advisor from the architecture school might be in town. We’ve been meaning to connect and get drinks.”
“Yeah? Anyone I’d know?”
“Probably not.” She smiled at her tea. “You could say that Charlotte is…new at Cornell.”
“Fine, so you can get a lobster roll with me on Sunday,” I said.
“Hm. We’ll see.”
Smiling, I nodded in agreement and finished her pickles.
*
For all ofmy successes with keeping my hands to myself, staring was becoming a problem. I found myself gazing at Andy while she ate lunch, talked about restaurants she wanted to try, and worked in my office.
She frequently caught me looking though it didn’t seem to bother her. Nothing rattled her cool, and that made the challenge of ruffling her more enticing than ever.
I realized that made me a creepy bastard. Add it to my list.
I also realized everything I knew about Andy outside of architecture was the result of observation and foodie conversations. While food seemed to be a good discussion starter for us, I couldn’t figure her out based on her enchilada sauce preferences alone. I needed to spend time with her away from work and our lunch routine. And I needed to finally apologize for the drunken texting.
“So my recommendation is tearing the joint down and building a laser tag arena,” Riley said. “See? He’s not listening.”
“What?” I blinked, looking between Matt and Riley. I was on the cusp of figuring out what to say to Andy before Riley barged into my thoughts.
“We were going over the JP property,” Matt replied.
I glanced at the plans on my screen, nodding. “It’s fine.”
“Areyoufine?” Riley asked.
“No. Yeah. I mean, I’m just trying to figure something out,” I muttered, snapping my laptop shut then jogging up the stairs to my office.
I was going to apologize for the drunken texting, and see where that took us. With any luck, a drive up the coast for some divey seafood, and conversation that didn’t revolve around architecture.
The words melted on my tongue at the doorway to my office. I reached a steadying hand to the doorframe and stared at Andy. She was kneeling over a set of plans on the floor beside my desk.
Head bent and hair spilling over her shoulders.
