Page 36 of Final Proposal

“It sounds ridiculous. I’m sorry.” She emits a nervous laugh and starts to fidget with her hands. “You must be wondering why the hell you agreed to this. I’m a rookie. You’re an experienced professional. I mean—”

“Stop.” I step forward and close my hands over hers. The hitch in her breath is audible. So is the visceral reaction my body has from touching her. For someone so brilliant, she lacks confidence now and again. Most likely from years of her brothers disregarding her. Well, not anymore. Not with me. “Quit stressing. In case you haven’t figured out by now, I’m pretty low-key. If a problem arises, we’ll figure it out. If we disagree, we’ll . . . I don’t know, we’ll yell at each other and you’ll tell me I’m being an ass and I’ll tell you you’re being stubborn, and then we’ll shake hands or something and move on.”

“Why is everything so effortless for you?” she asks with disbelief woven into her tone. “Don’t you ever doubt yourself? Don’t you ever question things?”

Her words hit me squarely in the solar plexus. Isn’t that why I took on this project? Because I doubt the man I am? Because I wonder if I’m more to everyone than the man who sits between his notable brothers? Because I want to know the eyes through which my father saw me?

“All the time,” I murmur without giving more of an explanation. Doesn’t she remember the bar that night? The turmoil I was in? I offer a smile. “This project. Our partnership. We’ll figure it out.”

She inhales a shaky breath and gives a definitive nod as she takes a step away and breaks our connection. After a moment, she turns back around with a more fortified smile. “Okay. I apologize again. I’m normally not one who needs a pep talk, so forgive me for sounding so . . . weak.”

“Not weak. More like strong. Determined. Admirable.” I shrug as she emits a nervous chuckle. “Taking chances is a hard thing to do. I promise it’ll all work out.”

“Thank you.” There is a softness to her tone that matches the look in her eyes. Both give me pause. Another more convincing smile as she takes a step back toward the conference room table. “Then it looks like we should be able to hit the ground running.”

“It does.” I turn to look at the plans, and then step up beside her. “You’ll get there tomorrow and do the final walk-through. I’ll be there Wednesday once I’m done with my meetings.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She tries to stifle a yawn but just gives in and lets it happen. “Sorry. It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

“Exciting weeks though,” I murmur as I lean forward and flip a page of the elevation drawings. “With even more exciting ones to come.”

“I know.”

We both move to leave, but as if choreographed, we turn and bump into each other. She wobbles on her heels, and I grab her biceps to steady her.

We’re face-to-face, chest to chest, and I’m reminded of the smell of her hair as she slept on my chest that night. The fullness of her lips as she murmured in her sleep. The warmth of her body against mine.

We both draw in ragged breaths as our eyes meet. We should step away from each other. We should let go.

But seconds pass.

Breaths are inhaled. Exhaled.

Goosebumps break out on her skin beneath my palms.

Every sense of mine is way too damn aware of her. Of everything about her.

My eyes dart down to her lips, to the pulse pounding in her neck, and then back up to her eyes as my body fights against reason. Against desire.

The ring of her cell phone has the two of us jolting apart as if we were doing something wrong.

Or perhaps about to.

I turn my back and pace a few steps from her as I run a hand through my hair and gain some distance.

“Chandler?” Her voice is soft, almost as if she doesn’t want me to hear.

Chandler. The same man who was on the phone the first night we met. Clearly, he’s still in the picture and the reason behind the tan line on her finger.

“I said I’ll be there.” Her sigh is one of frustration. “You know I won’t let you down.” She moves a few steps toward the window and looks out to the night beyond and murmurs something I can’t hear.

I begin to collect the prints and the papers to look like I’m not doing exactly what I am doing, eavesdropping.

“I understand. Yes. I have meetings all day with . . . clients. I’ll have to meet you there.” Her voice is soft, soothing even, and my curiosity is piqued. “Agreed. Okay.”

But no, I love you. No, I’ll see you later.

“Everything okay?” I ask absently as I roll up a set of blueprints and rubber band the roll of paper.