To Have and to Hold - Lauren Layne Page 0,70

I like it, don’t get me wrong, but I picked it out of practicality of needing a place to live more than anything else. It’s not my forever home.”

“At least it’s more permanent than a hotel,” he said, his gaze level.

Crap. Once more she was reminded of the fact that in the last conversation they’d had, she’d compared him to a hotel building. “I actually didn’t criticize it, but you seem to think I should . . .” she said. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with where you live. And if it makes you happy—that’s what counts, right?”

“If it makes me happy,” he repeated slowly, precisely, as though this were a new concept. “Indeed.”

They both fell silent, staring at each other for long seconds, although it wasn’t awkward so much as necessary. As though they were trying to learn the other person, reading what they weren’t saying.

But what had started as curious suddenly started to feel a bit heated. The air between them seemed to grow heavy, and Brooke’s thoughts had wandered from what was going on inside his head to what he looked like under his clothes. She knew now, of course, but she wouldn’t have minded a refresher course.

Time to retreat.

She lightly jiggled the keys in her hand. “Shall we get going?”

He nodded once, following her toward the door. Brooke lifted her hand to switch off the lights at the same time he did, his big hand covering hers, and she gasped at the contact, as though she were some pubescent girl touching the hand of a boy for the very first time.

She jerked her hand away, but he only flicked off the lights, slowly, purposefully, as though she weren’t acting completely jumpy and weird.

The ride down the elevator was silent, and Brooke wondered if Maya would be pleased or disappointed with how her manipulation had turned out.

On the plus side, Seth hadn’t refused to speak to her.

On the plus plus side, he’d kissed her.

On the negative side, he’d seemed to regret kissing her, even as it was happening.

And even worse, he seemed in no hurry to do it again.

Brooke locked up behind them, pulling her scarf out of her bag as they walked toward the sidewalk. Still silent. For a second she thought he might offer her a ride in his car out of that unwavering chivalry he seemed to carry about him, even when he didn’t like someone.

He didn’t. Instead he looked at her, nodded once as though he’d come to some conclusion in his head that she wasn’t privy to, and turned toward his car.

Swallowing her disappointment, Brooke stepped toward the curb, her eyes scanning for an available taxi, knowing it was going to be a long shot on a Friday evening when everyone was eager to commence their Friday-night activities.

Which for her would likely involve a frozen dinner and another rerun binge of Sex and the City.

“Brooke.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Seth was standing there, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched her. He stepped closer. “You said you were afraid you wanted more.”

“Yeah?” she said, her hands slowly falling to her sides.

His jaw clenched. “You said . . . you said that after breakfast, you were afraid you’d want lunch. And that after lunch you’d want dinner.”

“Right,” she said nervously.

“Have dinner with me.”

Oh. Oh.

He took another step closer, hands still shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched up around his ears like he was nervous. Nervous she might say no.

“I’m hungry, and I’m here, and if you don’t have plans, I’d like to take you to dinner.”

She swallowed. “To discuss wedding stuff?”

He shook his head once. “No. Because I want more, too.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

BROOKE BIT OFF A piece of her steak, dragged it through the buttery sauce, and popped it in her mouth with a happy little sigh. “This place is magical. How’d you find it?”

Seth picked up his wineglass, debated a lie, then went with the truth. “It was my ex’s favorite. We came here a lot.”

“Ah,” she said, picking up a fry and nibbling on the end. “Nadia.”

His eyebrow lifted. “You remember her name.”

“Because I was jealous,” she said point-blank.

He blinked. “You realize it’s not typical to be so unabashed about these things, right?”

Brooke shrugged. “I never really understood the point in playing games. Seems like we’d all be a little happier and things would be a little less complicated if we all just said what we wanted, you know?”

“I do know.”

“And it’s what good businessmen and women do, right? They just

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