had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. “No,” she said. “I look at fireplaces and front windows and wonder how many Christmas trees had been put up and family stories were exaggerated once the adults reached the bottom of the wine bottle.” She stepped back.
“I like that much better than my thoughts.”
Grace walked back into the kitchen and shrugged off her coat. She wasn’t warm, but the weight of it dripping from the rain was making her colder.
Dameon’s coat followed hers, and they stood next to each other looking at the plans.
Grace attempted to ignore the fact his shoulder kept brushing hers. Did everything she could to not pull in the scent of rain and masculinity that surrounded him.
She forced her eyes to look at the plans and not the man at her side. Swallowing hard, she realized neither of them had spoken in several seconds.
Dameon’s hand scooted closer to hers on the plans, and that’s when her brain engaged.
“I’ve seen these before,” she told him without looking up.
She pointed out her concerns and put just enough space between them that she didn’t feel the heat of his body.
Time slipped by as she sketched in what she knew he was going to need, at least at this stage. She spent more time poring over the plans than she normally did. It helped that Dameon seemed to be on top of the city’s expectations. It quickly became obvious that he didn’t sit behind a desk all day long.
Grace wrote side notes on his plans with check boxes that needed to happen first.
“I think you have enough to keep you busy until after the holidays,” she told him as she stepped back.
Outside, the skies had turned nearly black. And with the sun dipping low as late afternoon approached, the house was getting dark.
Dameon rolled up the plans, and she handed him the tube to put them in.
“I really appreciate your help.”
She reached for her coat. “It is my job.”
He took the coat from her hand and opened it for her to step into. The gesture was seamless for him by the looks of it. For Grace, it wasn’t something she was accustomed to.
She fumbled her way into the coat and felt his hands linger on her shoulders.
For one brief second she enjoyed his touch.
There must have been something she did to encourage him, because he lowered his fingers just enough to graze her arms. With her back to him, she heard him sigh.
“What can I do to convince you to go to dinner with me?”
She closed her eyes and remembered who she was standing with.
With a twist of her body, his hands had no choice but to fall away. “Dameon—”
“Just dinner. It would be a favor to me. Otherwise I’m going to get on the freeway with everyone else at this hour.”
“You really want me to believe the words just dinner?” His eyes were saying there wasn’t anything “just” about it.
“Maybe more than just dinner. But we have to start somewhere.” He took a step closer.
“We have no business starting anywhere.” Yet her feet weren’t moving away.
He slowly lifted a hand to her face and pressed his palm to her cheek.
She found the room lacking oxygen as she pulled in a sharp breath.
“Your lips say one thing,” he said as his thumb traced her lower lip. “But your eyes . . . these eyes are singing a completely different tune.” He moved his thumb to her temple.
“I think I read that line in a book somewhere,” she whispered. Move, Gracie . . . get out of his space.
“Are you suggesting that I’m wrong?” He moved closer. “That if I pressed my fingers to the back of your neck”—he did what he was threatening to do—“that you wouldn’t look up at me and open your lips just enough to ask for a kiss?”
She pushed her lips closed, her eyes locked with his.
A small laugh escaped him and he leaned down.
Back away!
Grace opened her mouth. A denial sat on her tongue but wouldn’t come out.
Suddenly, the front door of the house crashed open.
CHAPTER NINE
Grace jumped and Dameon twisted around to stand in front of her, shielding her from whatever or whoever had opened the door.
“Gracie?”
With her heartbeat well past her chest and up into her head, she looked around Dameon to the fury of Colin. “What the hell?” She dropped her hands that had grabbed ahold of Dameon’s waist and stepped in front of him.