He didn’t respond, not quickly. She put her hands on his cheeks and squeezed them together, so he probably looked like a fish. “It’s working.”
“But I’m still an asshole?” he confirmed through fish lips, just to get a better idea of what was working and what wasn’t.
“Knox.” Her words were soft, and her tone was not shrill, not at all. “It’s working.” Her voice cracked and her eyes got a little misty. “You won’t be an asshole much longer.”
He reached to move her hands from his face, so his cheeks wouldn’t end up frozen like this, but when he got to her wrists, she moved her hands and gripped his. He, uh, felt something there.
Wasn’t entirely sure what that was.
Not sexual. Not desire.
But not friendship either.
Huh.
Since she gripped his hands in hers and his thumbs were right there at her wrists, he gave her a subtle graze of skin on skin with the pads of his thumbs.
Okay, there was the sexual tension, because her eyes softened, and she inhaled quickly. So did he.
They stared at each other for a beat, and he had no idea what was allowed. He wasn’t totally opposed to banging his fiancée, because he liked Irina. He liked sex and perhaps it made sense to cut out all the nondisclosure bullshit and just get it on together.
He should find the right time to mention that without it sounding like he was a genuine douche canoe.
Before he could form a word about conjugal visits, she stepped back.
He released her and didn’t like it one bit.
She ran her fingers in the side ponytail that dropped over her left shoulder. “It’s actually working. This could be it for me. For you. For both of us.”
He liked that for her. Liked the excitement and the hope in her expression.
“Let’s wait to announce it as a win until I’m not the asshole.” He’d need to have a chat with publicist Courtney to determine how they could make this engagement work more in his favor, more quickly.
“You may be an asshole, but you’re my asshole.” Irina said this with a gigantic grin. “This whole thing is bananas. Why didn’t I think to do this years ago?”
The answer to that was simple… “You didn’t know me years ago.”
“Right, but I knew Courtney and she could’ve arranged for a marriage between me and anyone.”
While this was the truth, why did it sting that she just tossed it out there like it wasn’t a reflection of him personally?
“I’m glad I’m so necessary.” He said it on a grumble and strode into the kitchen area, where he’d dropped a six-pack of Fat Tire when he came over.
While there wasn’t a fridge, he set the beer in the corner where the refrigerator would go. Eventually. Soon. When the renovations were completed.
“Oh-ho-ho, no.” Irina scooted after him. “Now that our master plan is working, you can’t get all mopey. Because mopey is only two steps away from backing out. And you, sir, may not back out.”
“I’m sure Courtney could fix you up with someone else.” He popped the top and offered Irina the first bottle. “If I get too mopey.”
She took it, took a gulp. “I can’t switch to Tanner now. Your name’s already all over everything.”
Why did it bug him so badly when she invoked the name of Tanner?
He couldn’t really say why, other than it did. Problem was, she knew this, and she manipulated the hell out of it. He needed to nip that straight in the bud.
Snagging his phone and thumbing through apps, he navigated to the websites he rarely visited. The ones that trashed him on the regular.
Their engagement was top-of-the-page news. He did a quick scan—
