“May I join you?” he asked. He looked so sweet. He looked like my Ian.
I nodded my reply.
He sat right next to me and handed me a tissue.
I gladly accepted the tissue. “Thank you. Where did you get this?”
“Your sister thought you would need one.”
She knew me so well, but I wondered why she hadn’t come to find me as I dabbed my eyes and cheeks. “Did Luke leave?” I asked.
“He won’t be bothering you anymore.”
That didn’t really answer the question, but it made me feel better. I didn’t want his parents’ party to be spoiled. “Do Gary and Holly know?”
He gently picked up my arm and began carefully pulling up my sleeve. “Quit worrying about everyone else right now. Are you all right?” He lightly touched the finger marks left by Luke. “Does that hurt?”
I shook my head no.
He delicately placed my hand back in my lap. He reached up and brushed a few tears away.
“Doesn’t this cross some professional boundaries?” I sniffled.
He brushed my cheek one more time. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re not in the office.”
Without thinking, I reached up and grabbed his hand as he touched my face. It was so natural. It was an old habit, and my heart leapt. For a moment our eyes locked, and there I saw . . . “Ian.”
His lips curled up. He took my hand and held it between his own, caressing it as if it was a treasure.
Oh, that felt good. Too good. I pulled my hand away. “I meant, Mr. Greyson . . . Thank you. We should probably get back to the party now.”
His shoulders dropped, and he sighed. “Someday, Kelli.”
“Someday, what?”
He tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “Just someday.”
I popped up and smoothed out my dress. His touch was killing me. “Do I look like a mess?”
“After everything that just happened, that’s what you’re worried about?”
“I don’t want to worry Boss and Holly. Plus, a girl never knows when Mr. Right will pop up.”
He shook his head at me and stood.
I gazed up at his beautiful face wishing . . . No, I couldn’t ever risk that wish again.
“You still look amazing, but—”
“But?”
He leaned in like he was going to do far more than answer my question.
Oh, good heavens, his lips looked inviting.
“But . . . the question is, will you ever call Mr. Right by his first name?”
What a weird response.It was good though. It helped me forget that I wanted to plant my lips on his. “Unless his name is Mr. Darcy.” I thought that was a clever response.
