"Yes. Very professional. Completely business-related."
"Right." His mouth quirks. "That's why you're blushing."
"I'm not blushing."
"You're definitely blushing." He's closer now, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. His scent wraps around me like a physical thing. "And you smell nervous."
Not just nervous. Aroused. There's no way he doesn't know—the spike of cinnamon-apple sweetness that means omega want.
"Your scent reading skills are very inconvenient."
"They really are." He looks entirely too pleased with himself. A low rumble starts in his chest—barely audible but I can feel it. That alpha purr that makes my omega instincts melt. "So what's this very professional, completely business-related reason?"
I take a breath, forcing myself to focus on why I actually came here. Business. Marketing. Not the way his shoulders look in that t-shirt.
"Your studio." I gesture around. "You just opened. How's it been so far?"
He blinks, clearly not expecting that. "Slow." He leans against the desk, crossing his arms. The movement makes his biceps flex and I have to force myself to focus. "Most locals who want tattoos go to Pine Valley. Winter's going to be rough."
"What if you didn't have to wait for people to come to you?" I step closer, pulled by an instinct I can't name. "I helped River with the hardware store's social media. Engagement is up forty percent. I could do the same for you."
His eyes track my movement, darkening. "That's... actually brilliant."
"I know." The confidence in my voice surprises us both. "It's kind of what I'm good at."
"Confident. I like it." His gaze drops to my mouth, then back up.
"You would." My pulse kicks up. "You like it when I'm assertive. When I know what I want and ask for it."
The air between us shifts, thickens. His scent intensifies—that leather and spice that makes my mouth water.
"I'm not denying anything." He pushes off from the desk, closing the distance between us. "So tell me, Bea. What do you want?"
My breath catches. We're standing so close now I can feel the heat radiating off him. "I came here for business reasons."
"Right. Business." His hand comes up, fingers ghosting along my jaw. "That's why you can't stop looking at my arms."
"I'm looking at your tattoos." My voice is barely a whisper. "For professional assessment."
"Professional assessment." He's staring at my mouth now, his thumb brushing my lower lip. "You know what else is prominent?"
"What?"
"The way you smell when you're turned on." He leans in, nose brushing against my neck. "Like cinnamon and apples. So sweet I could drown in it."
Heat floods through me. "Grayson?—"
"Good thing you're not actually here for professional reasons." His lips brush my pulse point and I gasp. "Are you, Bea?"
I should lie. Should keep up the pretense. But I'm tired of pretending.
"No," I whisper. "I'm not."
"Why are you here?" His voice is low, rough with barely restrained want.
My heart hammers. This is it. The moment where I either run or leap.
"Because I couldn't stop thinking about you." The confession tumbles out, words I've been holding back for days. "Because Seth kissed me and it was amazing, but all I could think was that I wanted you to kiss me too. Because watching River and Seth get to touch me while you held back was driving me crazy."
