“The original plan was for you to work for Henry and me. I declined because I wasn’t sure of your competence. Now I am.”
“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” The sass coming from her mouth makes me want to put it to better use.
“Did you pack your lunch and snacks today?”
“What? That’s a weird question, but yes.”
“Save it for tomorrow. We’ll have a working lunch on the road. Be ready at twelve-thirty.”
Her eyes are wide as saucers, and her mouth gapes open. I turn around and head to my office. What the hell did I just do to myself, and why was I such a prick about it?
“Harrison?” I stop and look over my shoulder at her. “I need to go home and get my car first, then meet you back here. Is that okay?”
I narrow my eyes at her, not quite understanding.
My stomach drops at my next thought, and my words fly out of my mouth before I can think better of it. “Who brings you to work? Is there a husband or boyfriend?”
Jesus. Hell, I might as well call HR on myself now.
She straightens her spine and inhales, then lets it out.
“While I choose not to talk about my personal life at work, the answer to that is no. I walk to work most days. It’s good?—”
I spin around to fully face her and stalk back toward her desk.
“Youwalkto work? Christ, Bet—. Delaney. Those roads aren’t safe for walking on. And how far are you walking?”
Our property sits in woods, tucked back with a driveway that’s a little under a quarter of a mile before you even come across the first building. We have trails built throughout the grounds, but otherwise the driveway spills out onto a back county road.
I pace, running a hand through my hair. I picture Delaney traipsing along the road and some idiot flying around a curve, not realizing there’s a pedestrian.
“Yes, I walk to work. The roads are fine, and the distance is manageable. Now, may I leave to get my vehicle?”
I freeze and look directly at her. “No, we’ll ride together.” Her eyes nearly pop out of her head.
“Um, is thatokay?”
“Of course it’s okay. I own the company.”
“Part of it. He owns part of it,” Holden says. He’s got a backpack on and is heading out. “See ya, Delaney.” He tilts his head up at me. “Harrison.”
I ignore him and turn my attention back to Delaney, but his fading chuckle tells me he’s leaving, and it’s clear his whole “see you at lunch” routine earlier was only meant to rile me up. I fell right into his trap, too.
“We’ll ride together. We can use the windshield time to catch you up on a few things.”
She frowns as resignation falls over her face. It gives me pause. I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Are you… afraid to ride with me? Because of our—” even though I know we’re alone, I still glance around the room, “history.”
Her eyebrows fly up toward her hairline, and her head jerks back. Her frown makes me desperate to fix it.
“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.” Her cheeks turn a deep crimson. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s exactly what it is—history.” She rushes her words, and she stares at the pen in her hand as though it’s the most important thing in the world. “I barely remember it.” She looks up at me hesitantly.
It takes all my strength to school my expression and not show the mixture of anger and disappointment I’m feeling. I should take this opportunity to be professional, put the entire thing to bed—no pun intended. To pretend I don’t think about our night together every damn day.
Instead, I lean forward and bend over her desk, using my arms to support myself. I’m close enough that I can smell her shampoo. Strawberry, I’d guess. She holds her breath for a second, then sucks air in. Her pupils dilate. Good.
“Not me, I recall every moment. Often and ingreatdetail. We’ll drive together. See you at twelve-thirty.”
