I blink, staring at the woman in the doorway. Wide hazel eyes, reddish blonde hair, and a set of pouty lips that summon the word kissable. Her nostrils flare the slightest bit, and I could swear something is stirring behind those eyes, as if she’s working to solve a mystery in her mind. As ifI’mthe mystery she’s trying to solve.
Something akin to fear sparks hot in my chest. My face warms. “Uh…hi, Maggie, is it?”
4
Maggie
Tall, dark, and handsome barely cover the sight standing outside my office door. Lurking is more like it. How long has he been standing here? And why does he look so…familiar?
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” he prods, tearing me from my stupor. A mischievous gleam flickers in his dark eyes as he holds my gaze. He’s not smiling, per se, but there’s a hint of amusement trapped in his expression, and I can’t help but wonder what Kirsten has told him about me.
My face flushes with heat. “Yes, that’s me, hi. I’m just finishing up here. Do you mind meeting me in the finished train car? It’sunlocked.”
He darts a gaze over my shoulder before fixing those penetrating eyes back on me. “Sure.”
“Great, thanks.”
He heads down the stairs, his massive frame taking up more space in the walkway than I thought possible.Holy smokes.I shouldn’t be surprised by how ridiculously appealing the man is; his brother, Beau, is the same way. It’s why I asked if he happened to have a little brother for me.
I hurry back to my desk, but Clarissa is coming to a stand.
“I’ve taken up too much of your time,” she says, smoothing a hand down the length of her silky, black hair. Something about the gesture summons an image of Wednesday’s mom in the Addams Family.
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“Read the book, hon,” she says, reaching for the hardbound copy on my desk and lifting the front cover. She pulls a black Sharpie from her cleavage, tugs off the lid with her teeth, and scribbles on the title page with a flourish, frantically dotting ‘i’sand crossing‘t’s.Then comes her famous signature. She presses the book closed, recaps the marker, and tucks it between her breasts once more.
“That’s for you. Read it when the time feels right.”
“I will.” I’m more of a go-slow-and-savor type when it comes to self-help books. I take notes, meditate on each chapter, and really work on applying them in my life. This is the most promising one yet. I can feel it.
I tell Clarissa as much as I step back into my pumps and walk her downstairs, contemplating, once again, the gorgeous man waiting for me in the train car. I already told Kirsten Iwouldn’t date him; I can’t decide if I’m irritated with myself for that or relieved.
“I’m looking forward to the signing,” Clarissa Lovely tells me while approaching the counter.
“Me too,” I assure. “Order whatever you’d like. It’s on the house.”
I hope it’s not obvious that I’m distracted, but the fact is, Braxton’s face keeps bobbing into my head like a static-bound balloon in a carnival crowd. He almost looks…familiar. I picture his brothers; I’ve met them all, and each looks like a Greek god of sorts. Olive-toned skin, brown eyes, and muscles for days. It’s not natural. It’s probably the strong resemblance that makes him seem familiar.
Only I’m not fully convinced. For whatever reason, I have a not-so-good impression of him. Perhaps this is just me trying to convince myself that I wouldn’t want Beau’s brother even if Ididthink dating him was a good idea, which I don’t—no sense in wanting what I can’t have. Besides, look at him—he must have women throwing themselves at his steel-toed boots.
I force myself to focus on the reason he’s here—the new addition and head to the train car Nobly finished. When I step inside, I spot a set of blueprints spread over the nearest table. A quick scan of the area says Braxton is in the far corner inspecting the ceiling with unusual interest.
I clear my throat. “Sorry about the delay.”
“Who did the restore job on this?” he snaps gruffly.
“Jeb Nobly.” There’s pride in my voice, for good reason; the man has a good name around here, after all.
“You mean Nobly’s not dead yet?” Braxton has yet to takehis eyes off the finish. He reaches up with extended fingers and presses along an outer edge.
“No, he’s not dead,geez.”
“He should be retired by now in the least of it.”
I fold my arms and huff out a breath. “Heis. He just…still takes on side jobs from time to time.”
“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t.”
