I pull out my wallet, motion to the bartender, and hand him my card. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I got a call about a big job. I need to head home and start prepping for it.”
Nicole doesn’t even blink at my brush-off. She inches closer, dragging her red-lacquered nails down my arm in a slow, deliberate fashion. “Need any help? I’mverydetail-oriented.”
I’ll bet you are, sweetheart.
“No, I’m good.” I force a smile and press a quick kiss to her cheek. “Some other time, yeah?”
Disappointment flickers across her face, but she covers it fast. “Of course. I’m sure I’ll find some other way to keep myself entertained tonight.”
I glance around the bar, dozens of men who’d kill for a shot with a woman like Nicole, and give her arm a light, reassuring pat. “I don’t think you’ll have any problem.”
But as I step back out into the cold and pull my keys from my pocket, I realize something. It won’t be that easy for me.
Chapter 19
Like She Used To
Eddie
Ireally hoped I would beat Kiki to the job site.
No such luck.
When I park my truck at the entrance, she’s already there, and I’m absolutelynotprepared for this moment.
I spent the entire weekend convincing myself I could see her again and feel nothing. That I’d be fine. That whatever I felt for her is dead and buried. That I could pull off a decent acting job and convince everyone of that fact.
But let’s get real. I’m not fooling anyone, least of all myself.
The second she steps out of her car, I hear the murmurings from my crew.
“Damn… who is that?”
“Jesus…”
Low, under-the-breath comments. The kind I choose to ignore.
Mike glances my way, unscrewing the lid on his thermos. “Is she the owner?”
“No.” I keep my eyes on my clipboard, pretending to readsomething of the utmost importance. “That’s the interior designer. Kiki Wilder.”
His brows lift. “Kiki? As inyourKiki?”
“She’s not my Kiki.” A muscle jumps in my jaw as I tap my pen against the clipboard. “Not anymore.”
I mumble the last sentence, but Mike hears every word.
He studies her for another second, then nods. “She’s a beautiful woman.”
He’s not wrong.
I always thought Kiki was gorgeous. But I’m used to seeing her dressed down in sweats and oversized sweaters, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. The kind of woman who doesn’t need to try.
Today, she’s dressed to kill.
She’s wearing a tailored charcoal suit that hugs her frame, paired with heels that have no business being anywhere near a job site. Her hair is pulled back from her face, a few loose strands falling forward.
She looks perfect, which is perfectly horrible for me.
