and utter a small response, although I don’t remember how the conversation started.
“Tell me something that will make me smile,” he says.
A grin plays on my lips at the thought of him smiling and I say, “You’re a very handsome man. Very charming. Obviously successful.” I lean in slightly and let the tips of my fingers play along his large knuckles as I add, “and I really, really liked last night.”
I accomplish my task and sit back in my seat, staring at his handsome face.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He keeps his eyes on me as we both sip our drinks. “I would have liked to have had you this morning as well.”
I almost choke on my wine but luckily I save myself, swallowing it down and taking a moment to get myself together.
“About that …”
“I imagine you’ll make up for it tomorrow morning.” He says it like it’s a statement but I hear the question.
Another night with Mason Thatcher.
“I did say I was just along for the ride,” I say, reminding him and myself.
Mason
Pretend it didn’t happen.
Don’t let the truth show.
Curiosity will lead you.
Just where you should go.
She’ll lure you and tempt you.
And bid you farewell.
It’s only then you’ll realize,
You’ve wound up in hell.
I could blame the first night on shock and alcohol. The second on curiosity. But this pattern of behavior, this deep-seated need to watch her, to touch her, to have her … there’s no fucking excuse for it.
I stare at the computer screen mindlessly. The office is empty; even Liam’s gone home, leaving me here alone with simple tasks that should have already been done.
My to-do list consists of analyzing this inventory and comparing the replacement materials Liam thinks will be suitable. It’s crucial to our budget that this works and I need to make the decision today. Every penny is accounted for and spent, all except for this last purchase. All of it for one massive project. And all of it I owe to my father.
It’s been hours and I’m purposely dragging my feet. I want all this to stop so I can hit pause. Instead I’m falling down a black pit, forced to make a choice of what will happen when I crash at the bottom.
Sitting forward in my chair, elbows on the desk, I nudge the mouse to my computer and it lights up the screen once again. Two gorgeous blue eyes stare back at me. Her long, thick lashes frame them perfectly. Her skin is flawless, with only a hint of color in her cheeks. But it’s her expression that had me staring at her picture all morning. Her lips are parted as if she’s about to smile. So close to happiness, but the photo caught her before she could have it.
It’s only been two days since I’ve last seen her, but each night I’ve felt compelled to message her and make sure I knew where she was. The insecure side of me wanted to ensure she wasn’t with someone else. That’s the truth of the matter. I trust her when she says she’s not involved with anyone. However, I know all too well what loneliness can do to a person and I want her completely to myself.
If I pretend like the events that led to meeting Jules didn’t happen, then there isn’t a damn thing wrong with what’s between us. If only it was that easy to forget.
Knock. Knock.
My gaze lifts to the clock and then moves to the door to my office. It’s past 8:00 p.m. and almost time to meet Jules.
“Who is it?” I call out, not knowing who the hell it could be. Maintenance, maybe?
“Your partner in crime.” Liam’s voice comes from the other side of the door and I relax slightly.
“Come in,” I yell out to him, checking my cell phone and seeing a text from Jules. She’s waiting for me. The very thought spreads a feeling of warmth through my chest.
I set the phone down, giving Liam my full attention although I have no idea why the fuck he’s here.
“You seem preoccupied.” Although it’s meant as a statement, it comes out as a question. Before I can even think about it, Liam’s eyes are on my computer screen.
It’s an innocent glance, but he doesn’t need to see her. More importantly, he doesn’t need to know about my new obsession. I’m quick to exit out of the article about Jules. It was about her husband’s passing. How she was dealing with the loss, although the picture they