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.
“Beau,” she whispered.
His eyes closed off, and she realized he didn’t even know her name.
And she’d almost kissed him!
She stepped back, the cold air rushing through her wet clothes and chilling her to the bone. Or maybe that was the absence of the fire between them.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “That got real there for a minute. Totally unprofessional on my part.”
Beau stared at his hands as if they had betrayed him in some way. “Yeah.”
“I—have to go now.” She took two steps back.
His gaze went to the envelope. “I—”
“Just read it, okay?” She pointed to her manuscript. “We need to know before noon tomorrow.”
He licked his lips and swallowed.
Yeah. She did a total fan-girl sigh, complete with the dreamy eyes and melty knees. Beau’s gaze focused on her, and she knew she had to get out of there or she was going to do something really stupid. “Bye!” she chirped. Spinning, she jogged down the hall, down the staircase, and out the front door, not stopping until she securely fashioned her seat belt.
Halfway to the city, Beau’s spell over her broke, and she flushed bright red with embarrassment. She’d broken so many rules tonight.
Never go into a strange man’s bedroom.
Hello!! She’d followed him up there like a naïve freshman trailing after the varsity quarterback. Just because he had the charm of a prince didn’t mean he was Prince Charming.
