The Wrong Right Man - Aurora Rose Reynolds Page 0,27
God he really has put some kind of spell on me. Even as annoyed as I am by his highhandedness and the fact that he’s a damn liar, I still can’t be really mad at him.
“What’s that look?”
“Nothing.” I sigh, getting up from the couch, taking the red-stained rag from him, and carrying it toward the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?”
“Are you inviting me to stay?”
“If I ask you to leave again, are you going to listen to me and go?” He smirks, and I mutter, “I didn’t think so.” I hear him chuckle as I flip the switch on my electric teapot.
“Explain these notes to me.” He holds up his hand holding the notes, before sitting forward so he can click through the talking points I created on my computer.
I inwardly groan. I don’t want to explain Kathy’s notes or why I’m annoyed with her, especially not to him. I might not like what she wants to do, but she is still my boss and I refuse to go behind her back. “They’re just notes about the show tomorrow.”
“I see that, Dakota,” he says, sounding frustrated, and I inwardly smile, liking him frustrated.
‘Then there is nothing to explain.” I drop a chai spice teabag into my cup then cover it with steaming water a minute later.
“She doesn’t like what you came up with,” he says as I walk back to the couch. “Why?”
I shrug, not answering, taking a seat near the arm, as far away from him as I can be.
“You’re really not going to talk to me about this?”
“Nope, I’m really not.”
“So stubborn.”
“Oh, isn’t that just like the dalmatian calling a leopard spotted?”
“And a smartass.” He drops the paper in his hand to the coffee table and leans back, making himself comfortable, placing his ankle to his knee and his arm along the back of the couch. I notice then that he’s not in his usual suit but wearing dark slacks and a blue button-down shirt. “How was dinner with your brother?”
“Good.” I take a sip of tea, and he taps his fingers on the back of the couch when I don’t say more.
“Talk to me, Dakota.”
“About what, Braxton?”
“I don’t fucking care. I just want to hear you talk.”
“I’m not in the mood to talk. My plans for the night didn’t include a late-night guest. My plans included me having a glass of wine, which is now on the floor, doing some work, and then going to bed.”
“We can go to bed.”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t make me dump this very hot tea over your head. I’m still really pissed at you.”
“How can I make you less pissed?” he asks, touching my shoulder with the tips of his fingers. Just that small touch makes me shiver and curse myself. “I apologized for lying. What else do you want me to do?”
“You kind of apologized, and then you stole my information and broke into my apartment,” I remind him. “What would you do if someone did that to you?” I hold up my hand when it looks like he’s going to respond. “And don’t lie. You’d probably lose your mind.”
“You’re right—I would.”
“Then don’t you think I have the right to be mad?”
“You do, but—”
I cut him off with a groan. “You do know that the word ‘but’ means ‘ignore everything I just said,’ right? You are seriously the most frustrating man I have ever met in my life.”
“Then we’re on an even playing field, because I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“How am I frustrating you? Because I’m not just letting you off the hook? It wasn’t me, Braxton, who got into this relationship under false pretenses then lied and lied some more.”
“Relationship?” He raises one brow.
“Don’t even go there,” I hiss. “You know exactly what I mean.”
“I’d like to be in a relationship with you.”
“And I’d like to kill you, but I doubt I could get away with it without someone coming to look for you.”
I watch him laugh then brace when his expression turns serious. “You should know I’m not going to stop pursuing you until you give me another chance.”
God, he’s relentless. “Are you an only child?”
“No, I have two sisters and a brother.”
“That’s surprising.”
“I’m not some spoiled brat who’s used to getting their way, Dakota. I’m a man who knows what he wants. And when I find something I want, I go after it until it belongs to me.”
“Again, Braxton, I’m a person, not an object you can own.”
“You’re right, but that