Of course.“Right. It’s just, I really felt like you were the one that needed to see it because I thought you’d get it. I—” Cindy bit off her spiel. Beau wouldn’t care about all the research or the fact that having her father’s studio produce her first full-length feature was important.
They climbed a sweeping staircase to the second floor and made their way down a hall, but Cindy’s feet took root at the threshold to the master bedroom.
Beau turned to her with his signature smolder. “I’ll have a few minutes to look at it while you’re getting out of those wet clothes.”
“But I didn’t bring anything to change into.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
Cindy lifted the script and hit him in the shoulder as hard as she could. With all his muscles he probably didn’t even feel it, but it made her feel better.
He laughed easily, his eyes telling her he’d been teasing.
The rake.“Why don’t I stand out here and make sure no one bothersyouwhileyouread.”
He brushed his hand up her arm, sending warm tendrils through her tummy. “If I promise to behave, will you sit with me? Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“This isn’t about fun—it’s work.”
He slipped the envelope from her fingers, brushing her skin as he went. Cindy’s breath hitched.Rake.
“If you don’t love what you’re doing—then you’re in the wrong business.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I used to love what I do.”
“What happened?” His tone was low, inviting.
She half-lifted a shoulder. “My daddy died.” The honesty of her statement added a layer of intimacy to their moment.
Beau pulled her into the warmth of his massive chest, his arms enveloping her completely in their protective and comforting embrace.
She pushed against his chest. “Excuse me. I don’t know you.”
He relaxed his hold but didn’t let her go entirely. “It’s just a hug. Surely you’ve had a hug before.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Well, yeah. But I don’t need—”
“If my dad died, I’d want a hug.” His words were a challenge as much as a truth. She got the impression Beau really would want a hug; need some physical contact to carry him through a tough time. Cindy hadn’t thought much about being held—she’d learned to stand on her own two feet, thank you very much. She arched away.
“It works much better if both people participate.” Beau winked.
“Fine. If it will get you to move on, I’ll give you a hug.” She laid her head on his shoulder, trying not to think about the embarrassingly shaped water stains she was leaving on his shirt.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” he said.
“Thanks.” She chuckled.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” Beau rested his chin on her head.
“I guess not.” Her arms went around his middle, taking in the glorious feel of his body pressed to hers. She’d never really considered all that could be offered in a hug. Yet Beau was handing her comfort and warmth and understanding without saying a word.
“I like this,” she whispered.
“Hmmm,” he responded. The sound thrummed through his chest and into hers, changing the mood from one of comfort and peace to one of awareness. A slow burn started in her lower belly and spread out to her fingertips, sparking in all the places their bodies touched. The current was almost too much, and she pulled back.
Beau searched her eyes, diving deeper than Cindy had let anyone go in years. She was unable to stop him; he just splashed in and started swimming. Seeing into the corners of her heart and, in the process, opening his. He knew she was in there, and he didn’t try and stop her from seeing the wonderful parts as well as the broken ones. The conversations they had in those few moments revealed oceans about the two of them.
Beau’s gaze dropped to her mouth. She moistened her lips in anticipation, wanting to feel his lips on hers for no other reason than it would feel so good—like thick-moist–chocolate-mousse-cake-with-whipped–cream-and-strawberries good.
