Relief flooded Steve’s face. “Thanks. Now, let me head over to animal control first.”
She watched Steve stride off and let out a heavy sigh. Her body still held the sweet soreness from a night of fantastic sex. But that was all last night had been. He’d been angry, she’d felt guilty, her apology kiss fired out of control and that’s all it was. A one-night stand. She wouldn’t disclose anything or put her integrity on the table for debate. As much as the idea of keeping things casual with Andre caused an ache around her heart, she had to accept that what had happened the night before couldn’t happen again. Her job might depend on it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Can I stop by?
TAMARAWASSOSURPRISEDby the text from Andre, she repliedyesbefore the idea of refusing ever entered her brain. They needed to talk anyway. She had to tell him they couldn’t repeat what had happened. That no matter how great the night before had been, the conflict of interest was too much. She wondered if that’s what he wanted as well. To remind her that he wasn’t the settling-down kind of guy and that the night before had been a mistake.
She’d show him that she wasn’t the Goody Two-shoeshe took her for. She could handle a one-night stand just as easily as the next person. She kept on her work clothes. The less comfortable and more in command she looked, the better. No invitation in for dinner. No sweet-talking. Just straight to the point:let’s move on.
Her doorbell rang shortly after she responded. He must have been at home or on the way when he’d texted her. She smoothed a hand over her hair, which she’d pulled back into a ponytail that day, then straightened her skirt before opening the door.
Andre stood on the other side. He wore a fashionable dark gray zip-up hoodie with matching joggers. The dark jacket opened to reveal a black T-shirt that clung to his broad chest. The pants fitted just enough to show off strong legs and make her eyes want to linger. Basically, he looked delicious. But that wasn’t what made her breath catch. The small bouquet of daisies clutched in his left hand was what did that.
They stared for a few seconds before he blinked, cleared his throat and lifted the flowers. “Hey, I saw these when I stopped to buy bread and remembered you like them.”
“You got me flowers?”
Obviously, but she couldn’t believe it. Even as their sweet fragrance drifted on the breeze. Andre had taken the time to grab a bouquet and bring it to her. Not only that. He’d remembered she liked daisies. This was not what she’d expected.
He pulled the flowers back. “Yeah. If you don’t like them...”
“No.” She all but yelled. She reached forward for the flowers. “I love them. Thank you.”
His shoulders relaxed and the uncertainty on his face disappeared. Their fingers brushed as she took the daisies out of his hand. Sparks flew from her fingertips, up her arm and across her body. He was making it hard to remember she was supposed to be saying they weren’t sleeping together again.
He took a step forward. The look on his face telling her he was about to pull her into his arms and kiss her. If he kissed her, all of herwe can’t repeat what happenedbravado would fly away on the wind.
“Come in,” she said quickly. She stepped back into the house.
Ignoring the flash of confusion over his features, she turned and went farther inside. Her heart beat harder with each step she took toward the kitchen. Even without hearing his footsteps, she could feel him behind her. The pull of him. The memory of him.
She put the daisies on the counter and looked beneath the sink for the vase she kept there. Andre leaned against the door and crossed his arms. His hazel eyes following her every move as she put water in the vase.
“You want to tell me why this is weird?” he asked.
“Weird? What’s weird?” She avoided eye contact by putting the daises in the vase.
“Tamara, I thought after last night we’d be okay with being honest with each other.”
She sighed and slowly turned to face him. “I’m trying not to make this weird, despite never having alast night was fun, but it won’t happen againconversation.”
His brows drew together, and he came into the kitchen. “Oh, is that the conversation we’re having?”
She put the vase on the table. Moving away from him. This would be easier if he wasn’t so close. “Yes. It’s the conversation we have to have. I’m not so much of a Goody Two-shoes that I don’t understand what last night was.”
He raised one brow, his lips twitching. “What was last night, then?”
She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze. “It was a one-night stand. I know you’re not the settling-down type. I’m not going to ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. Besides, there’s the issue with our jobs.”
His lips flattened into a line and his brows drew together. “Our jobs?” He sounded confused.
“Yes, our jobs. You’re the contractor on a high-profile project supported by the mayor. I work for the town of Peachtree Cove. If word gets out about what we did, then people will assume that I’m playing favorites. I don’t want to lose my job over this.”
“You aren’t going to lose your job.” He spoke easily, definitively, as if that wasn’t even a possibility.
She placed a hand on her hip. “Oh really? I’ve already got the home builders saying the town is giving your project preferential treatment. The town manager has already warned me about not giving any indication of favoritism. What do you think will happen if they find out I slept with you?”
