“Are you avoiding me, Blue Bell?” he asked, walking closer to me and smiling. The particles in the air seemed to move for him. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Avoiding? Hm. No. Don’t recall.” I tapped my free finger against my chin.
“I thought we were friends.”
Shit.He did look sad, and guilt consumed me. He was going through something with sports ball, and Ididstop talking to him. “Damnit. We are friends. I…come on in. Let me set this down.”
His answering grin made me feel like I’d made the right move. I would own up to my foolishness and be done with it. He followed me as I set the flowers and box onto the island, and I placed both hands flat on the cool counter and stood to my fullest height before tilting my face up toward his. “I am sorry for avoiding you and for groping you. It was highly uncharacteristic of me and there are no words for how much I regret it. I am under no illusions with you and was embarrassed.”
He nodded and stayed on his side of the room. “Consider it forgotten.”
“Just like that?” I asked, hating the slight hit to my ego. “It’s not weird I touched you?”
“Blue Bell,” he said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “No. I’m touched all the time with my job.”
“Oh.” I gulped, remembering all the women taking photos of him earlier in the week. God, I was an idiot. Of course he got touched. He was beautiful and rugged and lots of women—and men—had a thing for sports ball dudes. “Duh. Obviously.” I started fidgeting and grabbed a pair of scissors to cut the box open. I needed to do something with my nervous energy and hated how awkward the room felt. It had been so easy with him until I’d ruined it.
“Who sent the gifts?” He moved to my side and watched me open the box. He leaned forward and searched the vase. “No card in the flowers.”
I shrugged and carefully removed an envelope from the red tissue paper. It was addressed to me, so that was a good sign. I flipped it open.
Dear Ms. Blue,
Would you please accompany me to an upcoming charity event regarding rescue animals? It would mean the world to me.
Brigham
“Wait,” I said, looking back and forth between him and the note. “You?”
He blinked in surprise and I passed him the note. “Shit.” He groaned and a serious look came over his face, that it was safe to assume was anger.
Meaning he didn’t want me to get the flowers?
“Were you acting like you didn’t know who sent these or…?” I left it hanging open-ended. “Judging by your face right now, I wasn’t supposed to receive this.”
“You weren’t.” He made a fist and hit the top of the counter. “My agent must’ve sent this to you.”
“Oh.” I chewed on my lip as my stomach dropped. This was an accident. He did not want to attend a charity event with me. The flowers were not from him, to me. The woman who was awkward and groped him. “That’s okay. Don’t worry. I’m busy, anyway.” I shoved the box toward him and forced a smile. “Speaking of busy, I actually need to do some work.”
“Sarah.”
Not Blue Bell.“Hm?” I did not look at him and chose to get ingredients out to bake a cake. Cake sounded great and went with anything. Regret, sadness or birthdays. I grabbed the flour and cocoa powder and vanilla before a hand rested on my shoulder. He turned me around and put a second hand on my other shoulder, caging me into a position where I was forced to look at him.
His height was spectacular and having his bare hands on my bare shoulder almost felt sinful. The warmth of them spread to my fingers, but the seriousness on his face stopped all errant thoughts. “I fucked this up.”
“What…how?”
He sighed and his minty breath tickled my skin. “I hurt your feelings, and that wasnotmy intention when I said you weren’t supposed to get this.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry.” I blinked and tried to look relaxed.
“It’s not.” He rubbed my shoulders and pressed his lips together in a tight line. “My agent oversteps his bounds sometimes and he should not be doing this shit—sending things in my name to people on my behalf. He told me I needed a date to this thing and I said no—because I don’t want to drag anyone into this mess I’m in at my job—and he took that as a fucking invitation to…do this. Ask you.” He frowned and did look guilty. “I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks for explaining.” I tried scooting away from him, but he pulled me in closer.
“You won’t look me in the eye, and it bums me out you’re upset.” He released his hands on me, taking his heat with him, and he put them in his pockets. “How can I make it up to you?”
“You don’t have to.” I got the mixing bowl out and changed my mind. Last time I’d had batter with him around, it had led to ridiculous things. I needed to change the subject or get him out of here. “So, rescue animals?”
