Page 31 of Sin

I narrow my eyes at him. He looks back, calm as ever, which only makes me more annoyed because he’s right. I am both.

Still, I don’t touch the jacket.

Mason exhales through his nose and finally sits across from me.

He opens the folder in front of him. “I reviewed your latest notes.”

“I assumed.”

“You were close.”

He slides one of his sketches across the table. I don’t want to look but do. He redesigned the valve housing. Not completely. Just enough to solve the pressure drop without sacrificing suction strength. It’s clean, elegant, and exactly the kind of solution I would have found eventually if I hadn’t spent two months pretending I wasn’t angry at him.

I stare at it for a second too long.

“That might work,” I say.

“It will work.”

I glance up. “God, I missed your humility.”

Something shifts in his expression and makes me regret the word missed the second it leaves my mouth.

His gaze holds mine.

“I wasn’t aware you missed anything about me, Ms. Cross.”

The room gets very quiet.

I look down at the sketch. “It was sarcasm.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

Mostly. Maybe.

I reach for my pen. “Let’s focus on the prototype.”

“For once, we agree.”

I hate the for once. I hate the way his voice lowers around it. And I really I hate that I notice both.

I lean over the sketch and force myself back into work. “If we change the valve housing, we’ll need to test noise levels again. The last version was too loud at higher intensity.”

“I already accounted for that.”

“Of course you did.”

His mouth twitches. “Problem?”

“Several. But let’s start with the fact that you’re irritating.”

“That one has been well documented. Just ask Owen.”

Despite myself, I almost smile. Then another shiver runs through me, sharper this time, and my teeth actually chatter. Before I can stop him, he stands, reaches for the jacket, and drapes it around my shoulders. His knuckles brush the damp ends of my hair as he settles the jacket over me, and the warmth of it hits all at once. Him. His scent. Clean, expensive, familiar. Cedar and soap and something I’ve been trying very hard not to remember.

My fingers curl against my lap.