“Connor,” Rachel stated simply, stopping in front of him, even though she wasn’t looking directly at him. She kept her eyes on his chin as if she didn’t want to see the rest of his face.
He didn’t reply and suppressed a snort. He didn’t trust his voice. In general, he didn’t trust himself when it came to Rachel. His body was tense, his heart felt like it had jumped into the cold ocean, and his stomach was taking the surfing ad a little too seriously.
Fuck. That was the anger, wasn’t it? It was because of her that he wasn’t sleeping well. It was because of her that he’d had to postpone the court date and have several more grueling phone calls with Mrs. Teager. Yet Rachel believed she was right and had done nothing wrong!
“Were we waiting for her?” Jean asked, her cheeks slightly flushed.
He nodded stiffly.
“Hey,” she murmured, slightly breathless. “Jean Morowitz, pleased to meet you.”
Rachel blinked, looked up at him in confusion, but took her hand. “Rachel James,” she said slowly, smiling tightly. “Where did Connor pick you up?”
“Um…” Jean blinked. “I answered the ad.”
Caught off guard, Rachel glanced up at him, but still not into his eyes. He wished it was because she was afraid of him, but he knew why she didn’t. The last time they’d looked deep into each other’s eyes, he’d been buried deep inside her…and she was a coward. “You’re placing ads now?” she asked, perplexed.
“Yes,” he replied flatly. “I thought I’d at least give it a try.”
Jean frowned in confusion. “It’s not that uncommon to place ads. I responded to four different ones last week alone.”
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
Connor looked away and suppressed a smile. Shit, Rachel looked cute when she didn’t understand things. She had no right! He was angry with her, and she was manipulating him with her wide-eyed, uncomprehending expression.
“Yes, so it’s clear what you’re looking for,” Jean continued. “I also printed out my resume again.” She pulled a sheet of paper from her satchel.
Connor rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks,” he said, taking it. “That’s helpful.”
“You’re welcome! I can tell you everything you want to know about my strengths and weaknesses, but I need to use the bathroom before we get started. I really do have a lot of experience, so…you won’t be disappointed.” She smiled and then turned toward the toilet.
“She has…experience?” Rachel echoed, watching her go. “In what area?”
“In bed,” he replied, unfazed. “Do you have something against experienced women?”
He heard Rachel grinding her teeth. “Not at all. And her strengths and weaknesses…”
“In bed,” he replied, unperturbed.
Rachel snorted. “You took out an ad asking women to list their strengths and weaknesses between the sheets?”
“Why not? Want to hear yours?”
“Oh, I know them,” she said, unimpressed. “My weaknesses: I make wrong choices and only sleep with arrogant jerks. My strengths: Everything else.”
“And you call me arrogant,” he whispered.
Rachel glanced up, finally meeting his eyes. Her pupils were dilated, and her chin was raised. “Are you contradicting me? You should stop provoking me. I actually came here in peace.”
“You really need to stop talking about how you came,” he murmured darkly. “It gives me the wrong idea and might upset my date.”
“Oh, please, Connor.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re rather good at upsetting your dates and…” The next moment, she yanked Jean’s resume out of his hands and took three hasty steps back.
Fuck.
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Hm,” she drawled. “Looks like your date is pretty good at reciting clauses in bed.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “What can I say? It turns me on.”
