Inappropriate - Vi Keeland Page 0,33
and extended his hand. “It’s necessary.”
With his hand on my lower back, Grant guided me ahead of him up the narrow walkway. I felt the heat from his palm scorching my skin and wondered if it was my body or his that was on fire. Maybe it was the connection between us.
My apartment was on the third floor, and he insisted on riding the elevator up with me, too. At my door, Grant shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.
“Thanks again for the ride,” I said.
“Of course.”
“Okay…well…you have a good night.” I did some sort of a curt, clumsy wave and fumbled to open the lock. Stepping inside, I looked back and smiled awkwardly one last time before shutting the door. Then I proceeded to lean my head against it and bang a few times. “God, you’re such a doofus around that man.”
Sighing, I walked toward the kitchen. But the bell stopped me after a few steps. Grant must’ve forgotten something. I walked back and checked the peephole before opening the door.
I smiled playfully. “Miss me already?”
Grant shook his head and frowned. He looked like he wasn’t very happy to be standing where he was. Blowing out an audible breath, he said, “Go out with me Friday night.”
“Uh... You sort of look like you’re asking me something dreadful.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I know it’s probably not the smartest idea, but I’d really like to take you out.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Is it not the smartest idea because I work for you, or not the smartest because we met by me sending you a drunk email to tell you off?”
Grant smiled. “Both.”
I liked his honesty. And his jawline. And that tiny little dimple on the left side of his cheek that I’d just noticed for the first time. In fact, I couldn’t think straight when gazing at his handsome face.
So I looked down to gather my thoughts, but all that did was remind me of the other things I liked about him: his broad shoulders, narrow waistline… Damn, big feet, too.
Yet even with all that beautiful packaging, I still wasn’t sold. Though my reasoning wasn’t the same as his. Grant was wary because I worked for him. I was wary because something told me this man could eat me alive.
After inwardly debating the pros and cons, I looked up. “How about drinks? We see how it goes?”
“If that’s what you prefer.”
I exhaled. “I think so.”
“Then drinks, it is. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Could we have them on Leilani?” I asked. “Maybe watch the sunset?”
The muscle in Grant’s jaw flexed. “My apartment overlooks the harbor and faces west. The terrace gets a beautiful sunset. Or there’s a nice bar down at the pier.”
“I’d prefer your boat, rather than your porn palace.”
Grant’s lip twitched. “Porn palace?”
“You said you use your boat to live and your apartment for fun.”
His eyes roamed my face. “If I say yes, is it a date?”
I wanted to say yes in the worst way. I was incredibly attracted to him physically, but I also found his direct, no-bullshit attitude a turn on. Not to mention, he’d let down his guard around his grandfather and shown there was more to him than the gruff exterior. Yet…something about him terrified me.
I looked him in the eyes. “Do you just want to sleep with me, or do you want to actually take me out?”
Grant smiled. “Yes.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I appreciate the honesty. But can I think about it?”
His cocky smile fell. “Of course.”
“Thank you. Have a good night, Grant.”
I shut the door feeling deflated, but inside I knew I’d done the right thing. Nothing about Grant Lexington was simple. Especially the fact that he was my boss.
Chapter 13
* * *
Grant
“Mr. Lexington?” My assistant buzzed into my office. “You have Ireland Saint James on line one. Would you like me to tell her you’re about to go into a meeting?”
I stood with a file in my hand, ready to head to a ten o’clock meeting, but I sat back down. “No, I’ll take it. Tell Mark Anderson I’ll be a few minutes late and to start without me.”
I tossed the file onto my desk, picked up the receiver, and leaned back in my chair. “Ms. Saint James. It’s been three days. You must’ve had a lot to think about.”
“Sorry. I’ve been busy. But I wanted to get back to you on your dinner invitation, or rather our discussion about having drinks.”
“Okay…”
“You seem like