Page 27 of The Heartbreaker Next Door

“I still have some work to do. His affairs were by no means in order. Once I have a full picture, I can speak to my client and come back to you with a proposal. Until then, I’ll continue to keep both Miss Foster and you Lockharts, abreast of the situation.”

“Okay, but what⁠—”

He hung up on me before I was able to finish my sentence. I stared at the phone and knew there was only one person to speak to about this. Despite Blackburn assuring me he would handle this, and to wait until he had all the information, there was no way I was going to sit on this information.

Loose ends and I were mortal enemies. I was proactive, rip the Band-Aid off. If something was messy, I cleaned it up. I didn’t sit around and think that it was magically going to resolve itself.

I’d never understood people who procrastinated or buried their heads in the sand, pretending whatever issue it was didn’t exist. I’d go crazy. I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not that I’d gotten much rest since our very ill-advised kiss. The past few nights had been sheet-twisting events. I don’t think I’d slept for more than an hour or two each night.

My plan to face that issue had been simple, stay away from Felicity Foster. Put as much space and time between us as possible since she was the kryptonite to my self-control. This went against that deal I’d made with myself, but I didn’t have a choice.

I pulled up the instant messenger on SaddlePoint and typed out a quick message asking her to stop by and see me at her earliest convenience.

Once I pressed send, I waited, wondering what this could mean to the business. I ran through every possible repercussion. Mainly the financial hit the ranch would take. Twenty minutes later, not that I was counting, Felicity entered my office. I’d been down a spreadsheet rabbit hole, so I didn’t hear her approach.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “You wanted to see me.”

I looked up and saw her face, and the same phenomenon I’d experienced the first time I laid eyes on her came flooding back.

For a moment, I could only stare. Felicity Foster never just entered a room; she entered your bloodstream and set up camp, infiltrating every higher cognitive function. She was dressed in casual clothes today, she wore slacks, Chucks, and a t-shirt that looked like it had belonged to three different people before her. Her hair was up in a sloppy bun, and a pen mark smudged her face. And yet she was so heartbreakingly, unfairly beautiful, it was an act of violence against the laws of physics. A light surrounded her, as if the universe had selected a single human to receive maximum lumens and assigned it to Valentine Bay.

She met my eyes, and I felt the same painful squeezing in my chest I’d experienced on her porch, only now it was amplified by the tight quarters of the office, the way her scent—floral, lemon, and something unclassifiable—displaced all the oxygen in the room. My mouth went dry, my hands nearly fumbled the pen I’d been holding.

She was an angel walking on earth.

“Hey,” she repeated, softer this time, and it sent a shiver right down my spine.

I snapped out of the spell she always managed to cast on me and gestured vaguely to the visitor chair. “Close the door, please?”

She did, then settled herself in the seat, crossing one leg over the other and tucking her hands under her thigh like she was bracing for bad news. The move did something devastating to the neckline of her shirt, and I had to forcibly redirect my gaze to my computer screen.

“I feel like I just got called into the principal’s office. Not that I would know what that feels like. I stayed out of trouble as a kid. The most I ever had to do was stay after school for detention because I talked too much in class.” As soon as those words came out of her mouth, a realization dawned on her. “Not unlike what I’m doing right now. Sorry, what did you need?”

She was fucking adorable. But that was not relevant, nor was it appropriate for me to be thinking.

I pushed back my chair and stood. Walked around the desk and stopped beside her chair, then leaned down, bracing one hand on the desk.

She froze. Completely. Her lips parted, and something in my chest pulled tight.

For one dangerous second, I forgot about the ink.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth.

Well, fuck.

I could kiss her. The thought arrived fully formed and spectacularly unhelpful. All I had to do was close the last few inches between us. I wanted to know if she’d make that little breathless sound again. I wanted to know if her lips were as soft as I remembered.

Her chin tipped up. Like she thought I was going to. Like maybe she wanted me to.

My pulse kicked hard.

Instead, I lifted my hand and dragged my thumb slowly over her cheek.

Her breath caught.

“There.” My voice came out rougher than I intended.

Her eyes opened. “There what?”