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He twisted a little to look at the sky, now turning orange and pink and red. “Bit late for that.”
She sipped the beer. It was cold and tangy and good but didn’t offer much distraction from the fact she’d rather be anywhere but here. She’d just have to drink fast and leave. She tipped the bottle—and her head—back and drank some more.
“Thirsty?” Zach asked, looking somewhat amused when she lowered the bottle again.
“Too much salt water,” she said. “You know how it is.” As excuses went, it wasn’t her greatest effort ever but it was better than admitting she felt terminally awkward.
Zach blinked slowly, his eyes steady on her. “Yes, I do know how it is.”
Something rumbled through his words. Something low and raspy and not quite casual. Something that made her think he wasn’t talking about salt water and beer. The thought made her freeze and she couldn’t think of anything to say. She was imagining things. Her overactive hormones were making her read something that couldn’t possibly be there into what he’d said. And she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself again.
“So are you happy with how things are going?” Zach asked after a long pause. He put his beer down on the step.
She made herself smile. Made herself take a breath before she answered, so that her voice would be normal and calm. “Yes. I am.” She hesitated. “Why? Aren’t you?” Now there was a thought that hadn’t occurred to her. She’d been so busy being the perfect “nothing to see here, move right along” professional producer over the last few days that she hadn’t stopped to really talk to him about the results they were getting. Of course, it was early days and if he’d hated it, surely he would have?—
“Yes,” he said, cutting off her rapidly spiraling thoughts. “We work well together.”
She avoided sighing in relief only with an effort of will. “Yes, we do,” she said, a little too cheerfully.
“But—”
“There’s a but?” she squeaked, unable to stop herself. Crap, was he going to fire her?
Zach stood, walked down the stairs toward her. “Maybe,” he said.
That was hardly reassuring. “What?—”
He moved a step closer, stepping inside the boundaries of what would be considered by any sane person to be personal space, and the words died in her throat. Her heart began to thump. Zach. So close. Why was he so close?
“There’s still our other problem,” he said, staring down at her. In the sunset light, he was outlined in gold like a painting of some ancient god. As if she needed anything to make him look any better to her.
“‘Other problem?’” she managed.
He nodded. “The one you brought up the other night.”
“The one you said would go away?” she asked. She should step back from him. Out of reach. It was what a smart person would do. Yet, she couldn’t have moved if she tried. She stayed right where she was, every inch of her waiting for his answer.
“Yes. That one.” One side of his mouth quirked suddenly. “It seems I was wrong about that.”
Wait, what? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? She stared up at him, suddenly dizzy. Maybe she’d fallen down on the beach and bumped her head and she was dreaming this whole conversation. There was a pulse throbbing between her legs now in time with the too hard beat of her heart. “What exactly are you saying, Zach?” He needed to say it this time. He needed to be the one who asked.
“I was wondering if you might let me change my answer? In relation to the whole hot and sweaty sex thing.”
Yes. She wanted to scream it. But no, she was going to hold onto some last shred of sanity. “I believe my proposal was hot and sweaty and no-strings sex,” she said. She wanted him. She wanted him more than she wanted to breath right now, but she wasn’t going to give in to anything more than wanting him.
He nodded. “Yes, that. Yes to whatever you want. Just, yes, Leah.”
She could feel the tension in him, feel the heat of him standing so close. Could feel that he was holding himself back. That he wouldn’t touch her unless she said so. The sensation made her giddy. Giddier. “A sensible woman would, at this point, make you grovel a little.”
He smiled at that. Then his face turned serious again. “I’ll grovel. I’m more than happy to kneel at your feet. Whatever it takes. Whatever you want.”
The mental image set her alight. He had shown her he was good with his tongue on that long ago night. And the memory meant she couldn’t answer with anything other than the truth. “I want you,” she said.
“Thank God for that,” he said, voice full of naked relief that only made her burn hotter. His hands landed on her waist, tugging her a little closer.
She stared up at him. “We’re really doing this?”
He nodded. “Yes. Even though it’s probably still a bad idea.” His fingers tightened on her waist.
