“So you are a circus clown,” I mutter.
“Hey,” he grunts. The tension in the air doubles. My shoulders go tight as I stare ahead, unable to meet his gaze. Clearly, my plan to be nice to my coworker is off to agreatstart. “I’m a circus clown you were all over.”
Indignation works through me while my cheeks blaze with heat. “Excuse you? I wasnotall over you.”
“You were all over me,” he says, then adopts a piss-poor rendition of what has to be his take on my giggling. Twisting on my feet, my eyes narrow into slits, only to freeze up when I see the flicker of worry etched in his face.
“No, I was simply trying to get to know you,” I mimic. “You’d know if I was actually all over you.”
A little smug smile tugs at the corner of his lips and causes my pulse to scramble again for a completely different reason. Then his expression shifts. “You okay?”
Wow, the ficus plant sure is something to look at.It’s so leafy.
“Of course.” I hitch a shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You have this look on your face.” Genuine surprise racks me, even more so when his gaze seems to bore straight through my forehead. “Like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I swallow hard and return my attention to the plant, then to the display case promoting tourism packages for families, couples, and honeymooners before I sigh. If he doesn’t find out tonight, he’ll most likely find out tomorrow morning at the conference. “I don’t do well with crowds. Well, too many people in one room.”
“Really? You’re claustrophobic?”
I shake my head and try to wave him off when his concern visibly doubles, but my anxiety spikes when I hear a round of obnoxiously loud laughter behind us.
My breathing shallows. My pulse rings in my ears.
“Come on.” His hand’s already wrapped around my elbow, and just as I’m about to expect him to manhandle me and drag me toward the receptionist, he steers me in a different direction. I’m not sure where we’re going until we come to a stop near a bike locker. Where it’s extremely quiet. “I’ll check us in. The suite’s under?—”
“B&E Dream Team,” I mutter, met with an exasperated sigh from him.
“Yeah. I’ll be right back.” When he still hasn’t moved, I peek up from the marble floor and lock eyes with him. The level of concern written across his face is overwhelming.
Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I’m not sure what to say.Thank you, obviously. But Carter being much nicer in person than I’d expected is proving to be a harder concept for me to grasp. Like the theory of relativity or the fact that blind people don’t see black, they just see nothingness.
He gazes at me for a long, long moment before he finally lets go of my arm and makes his way to the front desk. I let out a weary groan and rub my palms against my thighs, praying that it’s all smooth sailing from here.
He won’t stop lookingat me. It’s just us two in the elevator the moment a family scrambles out onto the third floor.
“I’m not claustrophobic.”
“It’s okay if you are.”
“I’m not.” The expression plastered across his face tells me he doesn’t believe me. “You can quit it with your nice guy act.”
“It’s not an act,” he replies. “I promise you, I’ve been nothing but genuine with you all day.”
“Even when you were all over me?” I ask, before I can help myself. The elevator goes so quiet that you can hear a pin drop.
“Me? You were the one who was all over me, Barb,” he says, using that rough and low voice from the plane, and a half-smile forms on his lips when I suck in a breath. “You wouldn’t stop touching me.”
“I was just checking for a pulse,” I say. “That’s all.”
“This is how you check for a pulse?” His hand gently pats my bicep, and I sidestep away from him. “What was my heart rate?”
“Nonexistent,” I reply without missing a beat. “Like the devil you are.”
“The devil you wouldn’t stop feeling up?—”
“I was not feeling you up at all,” I hiss, glaring up into his dark eyes. “I was—” My words catch on my tongue when those ridiculously cute dimples of his return. I’m beyond flustered, and he knows it, too.
