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I follow his lead, but as soon as I’m standing upright, the three glasses of champagne I’ve had tonight hit me. I have to reach for the back of my chair to steady myself.
“Whoa.” Rook steps forward to wrap an arm around my waist to hold me up.
I’m suddenly hit with not only an uncontrollable urge to grab his shoulders but also with the scent of his cologne.
My cologne.
Technically, the cologne belongs to Matiz Cosmetics, but I developed it.
“It’s mine,” I whisper.
Rook’s eyes lock on mine. They’re a shade of blue that should be outlawed because they are that stunning. “All yours.”
“What’s hers?” Telford jerks a thumb in my direction.
I wait for Rook to answer, but his perfect, kissable lips don’t move, so I take on the task. “He’s wearing my cologne.”
Rook’s eyes widen, but still no words.
“Our cologne,” Telford corrects me as he leans closer to Rook to get a whiff of his neck. “I worked on it too.”
Barely. He was busy crafting a special limited edition scent for a holiday promotion at the time. It was meant to appeal to teenagers, but when it launched, women ate it up like candy.
To date, it’s still one of Matiz’s best-selling seasonal offerings.
The cologne Rook is wearing has made a bundle for the company, too.
“It’s my favorite,” Rook says in his toe-curling deep voice. “I use it daily.”
I smile. “Really?”
“Really,” he whispers.
“You’re Chesca Mills’ boyfriend, right?” Telford bursts the moment with that question. “I’ve seen you on her socials.”
Socials?
I shoot Telford a look because since when does he pay attention to social media, and why is he following Chesca?
All I get back in response is a shrug of his shoulders before his gaze is stuck on Rook’s face again.
“No,” Rook answers decisively. “I’m not her boyfriend.”
I take an audible breath because it feels like my heart is ricocheting inside my chest, bouncing around with glee.
“You’re not?” Telford asks, skepticism dripping from his tone. “I’ve seen you in dozens of pictures with her all over the world. I’m talking Paris, Rome, and Los Angeles. All of that was in the past six months.”
He’s right. I’ve seen all of those images in posts on Rook’s social media, too.
“You saw me in dozens of pictures with my daughter and her mother,” Rook clarifies. “We’re co-parents. That’s it.”
Suddenly realizing that I’m still wrapped in Rook’s arms, I feel lightheaded, and this time, it has nothing to do with the champagne. “I should sit back down.”
Rook agrees with a nod before sliding his hands down my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps. He gently takes my hands in his to help lower me to my chair.
“You said you could help with a proposal.” Telford takes it upon himself to steal Rook’s attention from me again.
Rook looks at him. “Hit me with your best shot, and I’ll help you tweak it.”
