Brandon (Anderson Billionaires #3) - Melody Anne Page 0,38

before meeting his gaze.

“You’ve had a lot of wine,” he pointed out.

“My last drink was well over an hour ago, and I feel fine. I’d never drive drunk,” she said indignantly.

He assessed her, and then his shoulders drooped as he seemed to agree that she was perfectly capable of driving. If she’d had any more wine, she might not have wanted to leave.

Brandon walked her all the way outside, and even though it couldn’t have been more than thirty degrees out, he moved onto his front porch, not even shaking as he stood there.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” she said after stepping farther away from him.

“I was going to say that,” he told her with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

That one little glance had her squirming on her feet. If she didn’t want to end up in the man’s bed or couch again, she knew beyond a doubt that she couldn’t be alone with him. He was just too damn powerful for her to resist.

“This was great, Brandon,” she said before firming her shoulders. “It was a great goodbye.”

She turned to go again, and he called out her name. There was something so sexy and commanding in the one word that she couldn’t help but turn back around and look at him.

“This isn’t even close to finished,” he told her with a smile she felt in all the wrong places.

Chloe knew she didn’t have the strength or will to fight him any longer. She just turned on her heels and moved quickly to her car, feeling his eyes on her the entire way. She had no doubt that what he said might as well have been a prophecy. If Brandon wasn’t finished with her yet, there was no way she wasn’t going to get scorched some more.

Chloe should have felt a heck of a lot more upset by that fact than she did.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was a week before Christmas, and the restaurant was filled to capacity with those picking up their bakery orders and others wanting a quick lunch while out doing last-minute shopping. The coffee machine had been running nonstop, and Chloe’s feet felt as if they were about to fall off.

It was a normal holiday week for her at the restaurant, and she was grateful for the business, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to fully enjoy the annual spa day she and her friends took on December 27 to repair the damage to her body from a full week of nonstop work.

Brooke had come in to visit with her, and her friend could barely keep up as she trailed Chloe around the busy kitchen and dining room.

“You’ve been somewhat off since the second I stepped in here. I demand you tell me what’s going on,” Brooke said as she passed Chloe in the kitchen.

“I wanted to tell you everything, but we haven’t had a single second of time,” Chloe said, her order already up.

“You really need to hire more holiday help,” Brooke told her.

“I know, but this is what pays for my expensive spa trip each year,” Chloe reminded her friend.

“We wouldn’t need to go for so long if you weren’t torturing yourself,” Brooke pointed out.

“That’s pretty . . . um . . . logical,” Chloe said with a laugh.

One of the bartenders called out Chloe’s name, and she sighed with displeasure. Brooke glared at her.

“We’re taking a smoke break in five minutes,” Brooke said as she watched Chloe walk away.

“We don’t smoke,” Chloe pointed out.

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Exactly! We should be rewarded with a smoke break like the rest of them because we’re healthier,” she said before Chloe disappeared.

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh, even though she hadn’t felt like laughing much in the past twenty-four hours. She’d left Brandon’s place the night before last, and she didn’t regret doing it, but she’d opened a floodgate that was now coming in way too strongly for her to be able to close it again. Chloe was in trouble. Every time the bell on her door signaled a new arrival, she was looking up with bated breath, and today especially, that door was opening every minute or so.

Chloe was exhausted. She didn’t even want to think about the disaster that was her restaurant. The floor was covered in crumbs, the walls most likely dotted with dirty fingerprints, and the tables were going to need a good scrubbing.

She’d hired a magician to wow the kids with Christmas magic, and the dang man had set off a