After the Climb (River Rain #1) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,34
Duncan put his hand light to the small of my back to guide me to the booth.
I did not discourage this due to what it might look like if someone saw me doing it.
But I had no idea how I made it to that booth considering every iota of my attention was on the touch of his hand, no matter how light, so I wasn’t sure how I managed to put one foot in front of the other.
Okay, just me asking for this meet was a very, very bad idea.
And that idea was getting worse by the second.
I slid in, put my drink on the small table, and Duncan slid in beside me.
Our hips were touching, and if I wanted to avoid that, I’d need to slide some more, which would put me on the floor.
I gritted my teeth.
Sienna Sinclair faded away after wishing us to enjoy our evening, and the staff closed us in with the screen, leaving only a small opening a human might, if they sucked in their tummies, get through.
I turned instantly to Duncan.
“I can’t stay long. My cat is upstairs.”
He blinked fast and asked, “I’m sorry?”
“My cat. My building has a sanitation problem and I can’t return to my condo until it’s sorted. So I’m staying here. And I’m close to my cat. I’m an animal lover, as you, well, um…know. So my assistant brought her up. She’s a low maintenance cat, but she’s still in new surroundings, so I don’t want her up there alone for long.”
“Your building has a sanitation problem?”
“I’m trying not to think of that, but yes, my building. I, uh…live in a condo.”
“Right. Gen—”
“It’s a really nice one. But it might be too big of one, because the kids are now gone.”
“Okay. But, you see, Ge—”
“It’s fancy though, not a hint of wood around. Lots of marble. Crystal chandeliers. No wood.”
He didn’t say anything, but he was now watching me very closely with an expression coming over his handsome face that was very, very dangerous.
Which meant I kept babbling.
“I’ve been there seven years. I love it.”
“Do you now?” he murmured, his eyes falling to my mouth.
Ohmigod!
“Uh, yes. I have the most amazing view.”
“Mm,” he hummed.
My thighs started quivering.
My mouth kept blabbing.
“You should know that today is not normal. Maybe it’s Prescott. But mostly it’s you.”
That got his eyes returning to mine.
“What’s me?”
“Me being with, uh…you. And you being you. Well, me being me too, but you’re also you.”
There was silk in his deep voice, as well as humor, when he agreed, “I am me.”
Why could I not stop talking?
I really couldn’t because I kept doing it.
“What I’m saying is, I can go grocery shopping and everything without being recognized. At least, down in Phoenix.”
“Is that right?”
I nodded, maybe fervently, and to stop doing that, I snatched up my drink and took a far-too-large sip.
The lime in the gimlet hit me hard with sour and it took a lot not to make a face.
Drink, bad.
I put it down.
“Excuse me,” we heard from beyond the screen.
“Yeah?” Duncan answered.
A waitress squeezed around.
“Your drink, sir,” she said.
His drink hit the table as did an elegant, cut crystal tall-sided bowl filled with a crisp bit of paper in which was tucked, to almost overflowing, a bevy of seasoned chicharrones.
Yum.
“Would you like another drink, Ms. Swan?” she offered.
Absolutely not.
“No,” I answered. “But thank you.”
“I’ll be around in a bit to check on you,” she said, before she squeezed away.
I took a deep breath.
Duncan took a sip of beer.
I turned to him to get a firm hold on this conversation, which meant having it, and ending it, and walking away.
For good.
I didn’t get that first word out.
“What’s your cat’s name?” he asked.
It came out automatically. “Cookie.”
“I thought you were a dog person.”
“I am. I travel too much for a dog. And my building doesn’t let you have animals over a certain weight. So I’ve discovered my latent cat person.”
“That sucks. The certain weight rule that is. Not you being a latent cat person.”
“Yes.”
He grinned at me and it was not lost on me it was all kinds of playful.
And woefully effective.
“I thought you rich, jet-set celebrities chartered planes and took your animals everywhere.”
“Well, I might be a rich, jet-set celebrity, but I’m also a responsible pet owner, and I’m not certain dragging a cat, or a dog, all over the globe is good for the cat, or dog. Cookie notwithstanding,” I hastened to add. “But only for this trip and only because she doesn’t mind car rides…uh,