Arrogant Bastard - Jennifer Dawson Page 0,31

give him professional. “I agree. It won’t happen again.”

Why did I have to climb on top of him? Why? I’m so stupid. First rash action I’ve taken in as long as I can remember, and it has to be with him.

I raise a brow. “Is that it?”

He studies me, his expression intent. “I suppose it is.”

I pick up a paper on my desk, an article I meant to read but haven’t. “Great. That’s settled then.”

I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t. He just sits there, looking at me.

I keep my attention glued to the words I’m not reading. “Is there something else?”

“Cat.” His voice is soft.

I’m compelled to raise my head. “Yes?”

“I want to set one thing straight.”

“You’ve already made yourself clear.”

Can he just get the hell out of here and leave me in peace? How else can I start working on this whole professional thing and forget how his lips felt against mine? Or how I can still taste him…

He takes a breath and slowly exhales. “You didn’t sexually harass me. I wanted it as much as you did.”

A muscle under my eye twitches. “Again, I apologize for my actions. Let’s just forget about it and start fresh, okay?”

His features flash with something, but I’m not sure what it is. He’s silent for a good thirty seconds, which stretch like an eternity between us, before he nods. “Sounds good. I’d like that.”

“Great.” My voice is far too bright. “Let’s not discuss it again.”

“Glad we cleared the air.”

“Me too.” Now if he would only leave.

Finally, he stands. “Have a good one.”

I offer my most brilliant smile. “You too.”

He vacates my office, leaving the door open so I’m not able to lay my head against my desk. I press my fingers to my temples.

He’s giving me what I want. What’s right. Obviously nothing can come of the attraction. It’s the smart, logical course of action.

Besides, what am I expecting? He works for me. He’s a drifter—a loner with no ties, the last thing I want in a man. Sleeping with him would end badly, and my brothers will kill me if I ruin their businesses because I can’t keep my hormones in check.

This is right; I’m positive of it.

I just wish it didn’t feel like a rejection, like a loss.

I flick the papers in my hand. I’ll get over it.

I doubt either of us will bring it up again. Maybe we had to see, but now that we have, that’s bound to be the end of it.

I’ll focus on business, on doing my job and being the boss.

I haven’t lost anything. Not really.

The following Friday, I’m sitting at my uncle Beau’s bar next to Gabe. This time I’ve been smart and gone with the crowds, instead of to the remote dive where I ran afoul of Caden last week.

Gabe smiles at me. He’s all handsome and shiny, with his dark brown eyes and mussed auburn hair.

He tilts his head. “Things still going well with Caden?”

“Yep.” We are back on the right track. I take a sip of my beer before shrugging. “He’s great. Burt running off is almost a godsend.”

Since the day in my office, Caden and I have kept our distance, speaking only about business. He’s so cool it almost makes me wonder if I imagined the whole thing, like it was some boozy dream.

I should be happy. I’m getting there, but he still affects me more than I want. My saving grace is I’ve been pretty good at hiding it.

He’s been better, though. Not that I’m keeping score, but if he’s hiding his attraction at all, I couldn’t tell.

“Good. I knew you wouldn’t be sorry,” Gabe says, twisting his bottle in his large hand.

I nod. Wyatt, Jackson, and Gwen are so happy I’m getting a little tired of all their raving. It irritates me that Caden’s so much better at managing the farm than I was. It stirs up things I’ve been ignoring for a long time.

Things about my place in my family. My usefulness. My purpose. I do my job well; I’ve worked hard to learn everything I could about the distilling process and the farming for Jackson and Gwen’s restaurant. But I don’t have the same passion that infuses everyone else. I’m going through the motions, while they’re all humming with barely contained excitement.

Reminding me I don’t share whatever’s fueling them. It makes me feel…lonely.

I realize Gabe is watching me, and I plaster a smile to my face. “Thank you again for the recommendation. I’m

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