“Jesus, Remi. You gotta stop.”
“Stop what?” I breathed, fighting the overwhelming urge to trace my hand up his chest and curl it around the side of his neck. I could have kissed him. He would have let me. The thunderous storm inside his eyes was all but begging for it as he stared down at me.
I’d only interacted with him three times, for a grand total of maybe fifteen minutes, but I knew, to the core of my soul, Bowen was far too complex for me to make the first move.
So we stood there. My heart pounding the pleas my voice refused to verbalize.
Him staring.
Me contently existing in his hypnotizing presence.
Despite my current Google-and-stalk routine, I wasn’t completely insane. It had just been a long time since a man had captured my attention. I’d been single for years, focusing on my career and traveling with Mark and Aaron every chance we got. Aaron always told me I was jaded when it came to love because of what my mom had done to my dad. I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not, but it would explain a lot about my virtually nonexistent love life.
So why was my body thrumming with need now? Of all people, why Bowen Michaels? It wasn’t his dazzling personality—that was for sure. Barring a handkerchief kink I wasn’t aware of, it didn’t make sense.
But maybe it didn’t need to.
He clearly wasn’t all that fond of me, yet he was one breath away from tearing my clothes off too.
I could live with that.
A slow grin tipped one side of my mouth as I repeated, “Stop what, Bowen?”
His heated gaze dipped to my mouth, and so there was no mistaking we were on the same page, I licked my lips.
His eyes flared, and just like that, I had him, hook, line, and—
“All right, we’re in business,” his receptionist said as the front door swung open. “They had a mop and bucket.”
We both startled, but I didn’t have a chance to blink before I lost him.
Fuck.
My.
Life.
My shoulders fell as he walked over to her, holding the door as she pushed in a yellow rolling mop bucket. Once she was inside, he continued to hold it open.
“Leave that there. I’ll clean it up when I get back.” He looked at me, cold and distant, my heart sinking immediately. “Come on, Remi. I’ll walk you out.”
“Can I at least help clean up first? I did kinda make the mess.”
“I’ll handle it,” he replied, sweeping out a hand to motion outside.
Well, okay, then. I guessed I really was leaving.
After tiptoeing around fifty dollars of bubble tea and broken cookies, I grabbed my purse off the desk and dug one of my business cards out. “Sorry about your skirt. Send me the bill for your dry cleaning. It’s cute. I’d hate for it to get ruined.”
With a warm smile, she took the card. “Thanks. You don’t have to do that. It goes right in the washer.”
“Oh. Well, then use my number to text me where you got it.” With that, I headed to the door, Bowen following me out.
Side by side, we walked together to my car. I really hoped he’d lead the conversation for once, but by the time we reached the hood of my Honda Pilot, the silence was killing me.
“What are you doing tonight?” I peered up at him, using a hand to shield the sun. “Any chance you’ll let me make this up to you? Dinner on me?”
He stabbed a hand into the top of his neatly combed hair and let out a sigh. “Look, I can’t do this. Okay? I can’t be your accountant, I can’t have drinks or dinner with you, and…whatever the hell almost happened back there, I can’t do it, either. I’m sorry. Questionable plant spending aside, you seem great. Beautiful, smart, funny—the whole package. But this is a me thing.” Pressing his palms together like a prayer, he tapped his index fingers to his lips. “I am begging you to please just respect that.”
Well, shit. That made me feel like a jerk. I was a forward person, not one to back down in the face of rejection—sales had taught me that. But enough was enough. I didn’t have many female friends, but I was reasonably sure Mark and Aaron had never begged a woman to leave them alone.
This wasn’t just strike three. That was strike three in the bottom of the ninth. Game over.
It stung like hell, but I couldn’t be mad at him. He’d laid it out—blunt and to the point. If anything, it made me respect him even more. Disappointing as it was.
“Okay.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Totally. I didn’t mean to come across as a crazy woman. I’m not going to lie: You’ve definitely piqued my curiosity, Bowen Michaels. But if you’re not interested, you should never have to beg somebody to respect that.”
