Or maybe, once he finished, there’d be nothing left.
I twist the napkin in my lap and reclaim my composure. He won’t get under my skin.
Over the course of the meal, I attempt to remain polite and reserved. We discuss our work, our daily schedules, the effort required to run a business. Keeping my distance for those topics proves easy enough, but I find my resolve faltering when Kellin shares a funny story about the dog he had growing up who stole and buried his socks. Or when he discusses the time his friend wore extra tight pants to a nightclub and the fabric split over his ass during his first trip to the dance floor.
Overall, though, I think dinner’s going pretty well.
Until I realize I’ve already downed two glasses of wine and hardly touched any of my food.
Kellin’s still nursing his first glass of whiskey. The ice has melted, and half of the amber liquid still remains.
Dammit.
Kellin swirls his liquor and raises his glass. “Sounds like we’re both workaholics married to our jobs. Cheers to that.”
In the interest of politeness, I sip from my third glass of wine.
Damn, this is good stuff.
I set my glass down and find myself caught in his deep brown gaze once more. A deer in the headlights. Between hisscrutiny and the alcohol, my thoughts race from my brain and out my mouth before I can stop them.
“It’s hard to imagine you as a workaholic.”
He arches a brow. “No? Would you believe my files get so out of control that I bought a pullout couch for the office?” His eyes glint. “For overnight stays.”
I shiver. The alcohol fizzing through my head only accentuates Kellin’s attentiveness and inviting warmth. I want to reach out and brush his cheek, to trace my fingertips over the stubble on his jaw.
Instead, I grab my glass again. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of those.” Another gulp of wine. “Whether they were actually work-related is the question.”
Wait. Am Iflirting?
Shit. Not a good idea. No more alcohol for me.
Kellin’s lips curl up. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were accusing me of wicked behavior.”
Electricity crackles through my body and settles between my thighs. The way he says my name should be a sin.
Sultry. Velvety. Dark.
Who knew a single syllable could sound so freaking sexy?
I swallow hard.Work, Maeve. Focus on work.“A pullout couch is hardly impressive. I keep my files in my bedroom, so at least I get to sleep in a normal bed after putting in long hours.”
I immediately regret my confession.
Why did I share that with him?
Talking to this potential business partner about the inner workings of my bedroom? Could I be any more unprofessional? For my next trick, maybe I can disclose where I store my vibrator.
I grimace. Definitely no more wine for me.
“You’re right.” Kellin’s eyes fall to the table between us. “I’m just one part of a huge operation, but you… You built this whole place all on your own. Very impressive.”
I respond with a tight-lipped smile.
I’m always waiting for the patronizing truth lurking in the wings when men compliment my business acumen. They’re not impressed by my accomplishments. They’re impressed thata womanmanaged to succeed in anything.
Normally, I wouldn’t let that sort of comment bother me.
