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He picks up the bottle and studies the label, which shows our Buttercup logo, and pours a second glass. He returns the bottle to the refrigerator. “Sure. When in Rome…”
Seated opposite me again, he drums his fingers gently on the table and picks up his wine with the other hand. “Like I said, I don’t usually drink much, but my life doesn’t feel like usual right now, so I guess I’ll branch out.”
It’s the first time he’s alluded to why he commandeered a helicopter onto the property at the crack of dawn, and I can’t resist the opening. Like he’s moving the first pawn into place and challenging me to meet him. “Let’s talk about that.”
He blinks longer than necessary, but when his eyes return to mine, they’re focused and fierce. “Fine.”
“I have a chess set. If you feel like playing,” I offer casually, starting to sweat from the effort it requires to act nonchalant. I don’t want this day to end without kicking his ass at chess.
My hands tense under the table with the idea of all the openings I could use. Adrenaline floods my brain at the thought of beating him.
And that’s the only reason I’m the least bit excited to be sitting across the table from Colin Hathaway. I swear.
Chapter
Six
Colin
It’s probably safest that we stick to chess.
Otherwise, my mind could wander to what else I could do with PJ Corbett in her house while she’s dressed like that. It’s a foreign thought, an indulgence I can’t afford, which is why it surprises me how easily my mind betrays me. Now, I can’t think about anything else.
It’s the fact that she’s Archer’s sister, and he’s saving my ass by putting me up for the next two weeks, that has me quickly talking myself down.
I do my best to keep my eyes focused on her face. “Eyes up here,” I can hear her saying in that slightly irritated voice thatdoessomething to me when I hear it. Every time PJ seems annoyed with me, it makes me want to spend more time getting a reaction.
Fortunately, I have endless questions I want to ask her, so there’s probably no shortage of ways I can irritate her.
For one thing, it’s quite hot in here, and unless we’re playing strip chess, I’m going to have to open a window. “Do you…always keep your house this warm?”
I prepare for her response, something about how little I must know about thermodynamics, even for a physicist.
“Oh.” She looks down at her tank top and up at my denim jacket over a button-up shirt over a tee. “Yeah, it is hot in here, isn’t it? I was cold when I came in, so I cranked the heat and forgot about it. Lemme turn it off.”
She leaves the kitchen and returns a few minutes later wearing a long-sleeved shirt over the tank top. My brain struggles to come up with a reason she shouldn’t be wearing it, but even a PhD doesn’t get me there. Just as well. Now I don’t have to try too hard to keep my eyes from wandering south of her face. I’m acting like a teenager who just discovered a tube of lube and a porn channel.
Seriously, man, what the hell is your problem?
It’s a legitimate question, given that I haven’t had this reaction—or any reaction—to a woman in years. Staying focused on my job has allowed my company to grow like an over-fertilized weed. Investors are happy, and so am I.
At least, I thought I was.
Maybe I was just kidding myself. Maybe all my stupid decisions of late are because I’m unhappy. Or just bored.
PJ swipes across a few screens on her phone, tapping as she goes until music starts playing from unseen speakers in the walls. “Hope you like Taylor,” she says, not seeming overly concerned whether I’m a Swiftie.
“So this is why you lured me to your house,” I say, leaning back as she sets up her chess board. I’d offer to do it for her, but I can already tell that PJ doesn’t like people patronizing her. I watched how her face reddened this morning when Archercalled her his “little sister.” It annoyed PJ almost as much as it bothered her to lose at chess.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Something about how the flush crawls over her cheeks makes me think I’ve hit a nerve.
Wasshe trying to lure me here out of anything other than good old hospitality?
I tell myself to stop that line of thinking before I take it any further, but I already feel my dick getting different ideas about the situation. Need to shut that down before it starts.
“Kidding,” I amend.
