than I was. And yet he’d built himself quite the tidy empire.
When he handed me the latte he’d just finished and I took a sip I could feel the surprise spreading on my face. “This is good!”
“Again with the surprise. That wounds me, you know, that you find it so surprising I could be good at something like that.”
I took another sip, unable to resist the urge from my caffeine-deprived brain. I perked up right away. Then I sipped again, the scent of the fresh-ground espresso beans filling my sinuses.
When I lowered the cup I saw Ward watching me. “What?” I said, realizing how ridiculous I must look. Suddenly I felt self-conscious. Were there stray hairs coming out of my bun? Did this blouse work well with these pants? Did I have those dark circles under my eyes this morning and if so did I remember to cover them up?
His smile widened. “You have a mustache.”
Mortification ran up and down my spine. “Excuse me?”
“From the foam. On your upper lip. What did you think I meant?” Ward replied. “Here, let me.”
He grabbed a napkin from a dispenser on the island and started reaching for my face. I recoiled at the last second. “I can do it, thanks.”
I had to turn around and face away from him while I dabbed at my mouth. It felt like he had the upper hand so far. I hadn’t just crossed that invisible line, I’d rubbed it out of existence.
And I hadn’t even shown him any work yet.
Chapter 7
V AUGHN
I leaned back against the countertop, the espresso maker hissing and pinging gently to my left.
Ever since Quinn had arrived, I couldn’t stop smiling. I felt like an idiot. Or maybe a kid. But I couldn’t stop myself.
I knew that she didn’t really like me. In fact, if someone pressed me on the issue, I would say that she’d rather not even be in the same room as me. The same building, even.
I chose to fall back on my cat theory. I wanted her because of the fact that she didn’t want me.
I let my eyes run up and down her body. She wore a sensible pantsuit, her hair up in an equally sensible bun, just like before. And just like before, I wanted to know what that hair of hers might look like loose around her shoulders.
She turned around and put her espresso cup on the island a little hard. Some of the liquid splashed onto the granite top. She had trouble dragging her eyes up to meet mine, but she made herself do it.
She definitely had a fire in her. If only she’d let it out.
“Can we get to work please, Mr. Ward?” Quinn said, so desperate to maintain that professional distance.
“Yeah, sure. Show me what you have,” I said. I kept looking at those freckles on her cheeks. I saw the way she tried covering them up.
And then those cheeks of hers started to flush and I realized I was staring. However, I couldn’t tell at first whether it was a flush of embarrassment or anger.
“We’ll need a computer,” she said, trying to prompt me to some action.
I took her up to the second level where I had a study set up. As with the rest of the house, it was one of those blended classic and modern areas. Warm wooden bookcases, huge desk with an overstuffed chair in the kneehole, that sort of thing.
“This is nice,” Quinn said, standing in the doorway, “But where’s the computer?”
I stood behind her, looking into the room over her head. I caught the barest hint of some fresh, clean scent and knew it was her. I had the urge to wrap my arms around her, clasp my hands just below her navel, and pull her back against me so that I could nuzzle my lips against her neck, right where it met her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s in here,” I said. I put my hand on her shoulder, intending on asking her to let me go past. She stiffened at my touch and I withdrew.
Before I could say anything she turned around and looked up at me. This time I knew that red flush in her cheeks was anger. At me.
“ Mr. Ward,” she said, stressing that title so as to maintain her professional distance, “This is
When he handed me the latte he’d just finished and I took a sip I could feel the surprise spreading on my face. “This is good!”
“Again with the surprise. That wounds me, you know, that you find it so surprising I could be good at something like that.”
I took another sip, unable to resist the urge from my caffeine-deprived brain. I perked up right away. Then I sipped again, the scent of the fresh-ground espresso beans filling my sinuses.
When I lowered the cup I saw Ward watching me. “What?” I said, realizing how ridiculous I must look. Suddenly I felt self-conscious. Were there stray hairs coming out of my bun? Did this blouse work well with these pants? Did I have those dark circles under my eyes this morning and if so did I remember to cover them up?
His smile widened. “You have a mustache.”
Mortification ran up and down my spine. “Excuse me?”
“From the foam. On your upper lip. What did you think I meant?” Ward replied. “Here, let me.”
He grabbed a napkin from a dispenser on the island and started reaching for my face. I recoiled at the last second. “I can do it, thanks.”
I had to turn around and face away from him while I dabbed at my mouth. It felt like he had the upper hand so far. I hadn’t just crossed that invisible line, I’d rubbed it out of existence.
And I hadn’t even shown him any work yet.
Chapter 7
V AUGHN
I leaned back against the countertop, the espresso maker hissing and pinging gently to my left.
Ever since Quinn had arrived, I couldn’t stop smiling. I felt like an idiot. Or maybe a kid. But I couldn’t stop myself.
I knew that she didn’t really like me. In fact, if someone pressed me on the issue, I would say that she’d rather not even be in the same room as me. The same building, even.
I chose to fall back on my cat theory. I wanted her because of the fact that she didn’t want me.
I let my eyes run up and down her body. She wore a sensible pantsuit, her hair up in an equally sensible bun, just like before. And just like before, I wanted to know what that hair of hers might look like loose around her shoulders.
She turned around and put her espresso cup on the island a little hard. Some of the liquid splashed onto the granite top. She had trouble dragging her eyes up to meet mine, but she made herself do it.
She definitely had a fire in her. If only she’d let it out.
“Can we get to work please, Mr. Ward?” Quinn said, so desperate to maintain that professional distance.
“Yeah, sure. Show me what you have,” I said. I kept looking at those freckles on her cheeks. I saw the way she tried covering them up.
And then those cheeks of hers started to flush and I realized I was staring. However, I couldn’t tell at first whether it was a flush of embarrassment or anger.
“We’ll need a computer,” she said, trying to prompt me to some action.
I took her up to the second level where I had a study set up. As with the rest of the house, it was one of those blended classic and modern areas. Warm wooden bookcases, huge desk with an overstuffed chair in the kneehole, that sort of thing.
“This is nice,” Quinn said, standing in the doorway, “But where’s the computer?”
I stood behind her, looking into the room over her head. I caught the barest hint of some fresh, clean scent and knew it was her. I had the urge to wrap my arms around her, clasp my hands just below her navel, and pull her back against me so that I could nuzzle my lips against her neck, right where it met her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s in here,” I said. I put my hand on her shoulder, intending on asking her to let me go past. She stiffened at my touch and I withdrew.
Before I could say anything she turned around and looked up at me. This time I knew that red flush in her cheeks was anger. At me.
“ Mr. Ward,” she said, stressing that title so as to maintain her professional distance, “This is
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