“What the hell is going on?” a deep baritone asked, the toes of his stylish brown dress shoes appearing just out of the splash zone.
You know, I was really starting to think Karma had it out for me when it came to this man.
Slowly lifting my head, I took my time sweeping my gaze up his body.
Khaki slacks that shouldn’t have been that attractive.
Yet another button-down, tucked in at his trim waist and pulled tight over his broad shoulders.
Sexy beard only slightly thicker than scruff covering his chiseled jaw.
Gorgeous full lips that had been the star of a fantasy or two of mine over the weekend.
“Hi,” I whispered, a wicked smile curling my mouth.
He stared at me, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, though I couldn’t tell if it was because he was surprised to see me or the mess I’d made in his waiting area.
When it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything, I did what I do best and filled the silence. “Of all the professions, I never figured you to be an accountant. Though the suit and handkerchief make more sense now.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed before he let out a low groan. “What are you doing here?”
Extending the one remaining bubble tea, I took a step toward him. “I, um, owed you a drink?”
“Don’t move,” he ordered roughly.
I froze, my hand still outstretched, which left me looking as much like the fool as I suddenly felt.
“Emily, go get cleaned up and then please see if they have a mop we can borrow next door.”
“On it,” the receptionist replied, her scowl no doubt leveled on me as she disappeared down the hall, but I only had eyes for Bowen.
Stabbing his hand into the pocket of his slacks, he said…
Nothing. No, seriously, like absolutely nothing. Unnervingly nothing. Deafeningly nothing. Nothing.
Once again, that was my cue. “I’m really sorry about this. I have this thing where I don’t completely think things through, like say, carrying half a bakery into your office in one trip. At some point, I usually realize it’s a bad idea, but I’m already committed so I start to think that maybe I can handle it, but in reality, I can’t, so I end up—”
“Why are you here?” he snapped, blatantly interrupting me. In a way, he had also rescued me from the rest of the word vomit I was no doubt going to continue spewing his way, but did he really have to be so rude?
Still, I persevered. “I need an accountant.” I took a step toward him. “So I came bearing treats with hopes—”
“Stop. Moving.”
I twisted my lips as he interrupted me—again. “Hindsight tells me I should have come without the treats, but I do have money to pay for your services. I’m not asking for a favor or anything. See, my dad, he’s retiring to Miami and the accounting for his restaurant is—”
“Jesus,” he mumbled, raking a hand through the top of his short, brown hair. “How did you find me?”
Thrice.
Three freaking times he had interrupted me. And considering he had spoken only slightly more sentences, that was an infuriating ratio.
Loaded with saccharine and sarcasm, I smiled. “Do you understand how conversation works?”
“What?”
Using my free hand, I pointed at my mouth. “One person speaks a full and complete thought.” I turned my finger on him. “Then, when that person has finished, the other replies. Preferably without acting like a jerk, but we should probably just start with the basics.”
Bending over, I picked the box of cookies off the floor. It had broken open when I’d dropped it, but it still had a few that could be salvaged inside.
“Let’s give it a shot, yeah? Hi, Bowen. Sorry about the mess in your office. It was an honest accident. I stopped by to see if you were taking new clients because I seem to have found myself in quite the pickle, and I’m really hoping to keep my father out of an orange jumpsuit. Can I interest you in a bubble tea and peanut butter cookie while we discuss the—”
He didn’t have to interrupt me that time. I did it all by myself. In my attempt to put him in his place, I slid like an Olympic ice skater.
“Shit!” I shouted, adding another twelve ounces of tea, and what was left of my dignity to the sugary wreckage at my feet.
In one swift movement, he hooked his arm around my hips and plucked me off my feet. His fingertips branded my hip as he turned us and walked only a few steps, but as I dangled at his side, a fire ignited across my skin.
“Dammit, I said not to move,” he grumbled, placing me back on my feet.
The loss of his warmth as he released me was staggering, but much to my surprise, he didn’t back away. Tall and strong, he crowded me without touching, engulfing me without the first flame. There were plenty of sparks though. Flying in every which direction, singeing my skin. My pulse quickened as he swayed toward me, stopping just shy of his chest brushing mine. The almost tangible intensity in his eyes couldn’t have been mistaken for anything other than desire, and damn if that wasn’t confusing when combined with his next words.
