AND HE ACCUSED her of thinking too loud?
Seated on the floor with the couch at her back, she worked at her laptop on the coffee table.He was pottering around in the kitchen, preparing lunch, she hadn’t asked what they were having.She was still astounded he was on this level at that time of day.
Though she tried to keep her focus on the screen, her awareness of him, and his distracting awareness of her, kept interrupting.
“You should say sorry to Terra,” she said, typing.
“I’ll say sorry to her when she says sorry to you.”
“Mason caught up with me at Brooker.”
“Lunch again?”
“I pretty much told him to run and jump.”
“Good girl.”
“I guess I’ll still have to see him at work when…”
At work.At Brooker.That turned the cogs.
“I have people on salary,” he said, chopping away.“Why do we need the middleman?Ozzie does the paperwork, he could set you up with the company—”
“Leave Brooker?”she said, her fingers hovering over the keys.She thought a second, then… “We’re really rushing into this, aren’t we?”
“We’re making plans that suit us,” he said, tossing something into his mouth.“I told you I’m not set on anything, we’ll make these decisions together.”
There it was again.With his partner.Love.Holy fuck.
The door burst open and there was Roxie, arm aloft.“Welcome to the carnage!”
That wasn’t such a bad descriptor of her life.Thanks, friend.Although, to be honest, since her little outburst by the patio, life made much more sense.
“Did Zairn get away okay?”Ariella asked when her friend came closer… leaving the front door open.“Uh, the door—”
“Hatfield’s getting stuff out the van with his peeps.”
Right.Yes.Hatfield.
“Want something to eat, RK?”Cam asked from the kitchen.
“If there’s food, I’ll eat,” Roxie said.“We have to work though, so don’t be all distracting like with the hotness and the smile.Don’t smolder at us.”
“I’m not distracting,” he insisted.
“You are distracting,” she said, boosting up to the couch.“You shouldn’t be here while I do this.”
“I can hear you talking about Spencer.Your past is your past.It doesn’t upset me.”
“Thank you for that permission, Mr.Misogynist,” Roxie said, channeling an attack dog.“Women don’t need permission from men to converse about their own histories.We are not owned by—”
“I will make myself scarce.”
It wasn’t so much the talking about Spence as it was about the thump of her heart when he was close by.Them was new.She couldn’t answer questions about it but also didn’t want to be fading out because she smelled his soap or glanced one of those killer smoldering smiles Roxie referenced.
“After lunch,” Roxie said, gesturing her over to the kitchen island.“We have a bunch of questions to vet.”
What she would talk about and what she wouldn’t…
