in him.
After a too-short minute, her palms pressed against his chest and she pushed him away, her eyes world-sized blue pearls in her pale face. That kiss seemed to have waked her up but good. Him, too.
“What exactly do you think you are doing? I came here for my briefcase—and—and—and my—my—my coat.”
“Oh.” He felt dazed. “Yes. Of course.” His eyes took her in like he wanted to with his arms. “I’ll check my car.”
He leaned down for his keys, which had somehow clattered onto the kitchen floor in the ensuing entanglement of arms and lips. “If you’ll follow me.”
Which she did, but not too closely. He debated taking the stairs to the parking garage rather than fight his impulse to pull her into his arms in the elevator and decided she’d never make it the way she’d been weaving like an unsteady boat in a choppy sea. Instead, she pressed into a corner of the elevator, her back stiff. He reluctantly assumed a similar position on the opposite side, hoping she might fall. It would be the perfect excuse to pull her into his arms again. She managed to remain upright the entire ride to the parking garage. When he reached his car, he handed over her coat and briefcase. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” She turned and left via the door at street-level as suddenly as she had appeared, the rapid sound of her flip-flops against the pavement mimicking the thumping of his heart.
When he returned to the balcony of his condo, he sat in the chair for another hour, not quite sure how he was going to concentrate when he saw her next, presumably to discuss the zoning and permit issue that he suspected her grandfather had used to bring them together. Beau smiled.
What would Miss Olivia do when she saw him again? And how could he get her to relax in his company, so that maybe they could kiss again, not as an accident the next time? No question about it. He wanted it. And he had a strong hunch she did, too.
Chapter 6
Olivia drove home from Beau’s condo, her embarrassment still acute at having had more than a half-glass of wine and what it had done to her, when combined with the too-large meal. She should never have tried to eat so much, drink so much. How many glasses was it? Two, three? She’d taken too many sips and he’d kept filling her glass. Her belly still felt bloated and her temples throbbed, even when she squinted to reduce the glare from oncoming car lights. Thank goodness traffic was light to nonexistent on the nearly-empty streets and she could creep along without worrying about being so far under the speed limit . But I had to get my briefcase, she scolded herself , as if that was excuse enough .
Beau’s business card had told her where he worked and a nice man at the elevator pointed her to the directory she’d flounced past when she’d entered the building. She hadn’t thought past what she would do if he wasn’t in his office. Why would he be there anyway, when it was after nine? She hadn’t been thinking clearly. Maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. How convenient that he lived upstairs—above the store, so to speak. Something Granddad would approve of.
But the man was incorrigible. Making her drink all that wine and then taking advantage like that! Except she was the one who had emptied her glass when she had vowed to drink only half. And she shouldn’t have eaten all that food, but she’d been so hungry, ravenous actually. For what? Food? Or something else? Maybe him? The way he’d looked at her over dinner, as if he longed for something. A kiss, maybe? And then what he’d done when she practically fell into his arms… after backing into the wall… after she made the mistake of following him too closely. Okay, maybe that first kiss was an accident, but the second one? He must have planned it. Her heart raced as she relived the moment. Did I really kiss him back? She must have imagined that. Of course, she wouldn’t have. He was a client. She never
After a too-short minute, her palms pressed against his chest and she pushed him away, her eyes world-sized blue pearls in her pale face. That kiss seemed to have waked her up but good. Him, too.
“What exactly do you think you are doing? I came here for my briefcase—and—and—and my—my—my coat.”
“Oh.” He felt dazed. “Yes. Of course.” His eyes took her in like he wanted to with his arms. “I’ll check my car.”
He leaned down for his keys, which had somehow clattered onto the kitchen floor in the ensuing entanglement of arms and lips. “If you’ll follow me.”
Which she did, but not too closely. He debated taking the stairs to the parking garage rather than fight his impulse to pull her into his arms in the elevator and decided she’d never make it the way she’d been weaving like an unsteady boat in a choppy sea. Instead, she pressed into a corner of the elevator, her back stiff. He reluctantly assumed a similar position on the opposite side, hoping she might fall. It would be the perfect excuse to pull her into his arms again. She managed to remain upright the entire ride to the parking garage. When he reached his car, he handed over her coat and briefcase. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” She turned and left via the door at street-level as suddenly as she had appeared, the rapid sound of her flip-flops against the pavement mimicking the thumping of his heart.
When he returned to the balcony of his condo, he sat in the chair for another hour, not quite sure how he was going to concentrate when he saw her next, presumably to discuss the zoning and permit issue that he suspected her grandfather had used to bring them together. Beau smiled.
What would Miss Olivia do when she saw him again? And how could he get her to relax in his company, so that maybe they could kiss again, not as an accident the next time? No question about it. He wanted it. And he had a strong hunch she did, too.
Chapter 6
Olivia drove home from Beau’s condo, her embarrassment still acute at having had more than a half-glass of wine and what it had done to her, when combined with the too-large meal. She should never have tried to eat so much, drink so much. How many glasses was it? Two, three? She’d taken too many sips and he’d kept filling her glass. Her belly still felt bloated and her temples throbbed, even when she squinted to reduce the glare from oncoming car lights. Thank goodness traffic was light to nonexistent on the nearly-empty streets and she could creep along without worrying about being so far under the speed limit . But I had to get my briefcase, she scolded herself , as if that was excuse enough .
Beau’s business card had told her where he worked and a nice man at the elevator pointed her to the directory she’d flounced past when she’d entered the building. She hadn’t thought past what she would do if he wasn’t in his office. Why would he be there anyway, when it was after nine? She hadn’t been thinking clearly. Maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. How convenient that he lived upstairs—above the store, so to speak. Something Granddad would approve of.
But the man was incorrigible. Making her drink all that wine and then taking advantage like that! Except she was the one who had emptied her glass when she had vowed to drink only half. And she shouldn’t have eaten all that food, but she’d been so hungry, ravenous actually. For what? Food? Or something else? Maybe him? The way he’d looked at her over dinner, as if he longed for something. A kiss, maybe? And then what he’d done when she practically fell into his arms… after backing into the wall… after she made the mistake of following him too closely. Okay, maybe that first kiss was an accident, but the second one? He must have planned it. Her heart raced as she relived the moment. Did I really kiss him back? She must have imagined that. Of course, she wouldn’t have. He was a client. She never
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