I stop, clutching the supplies against my chest. “Ezra was out of line.”
“Was he?” Martin finally looks at me, those knowing eyes seeing way too much. “Or were you just pissed that someoneelse was calling Noah broken when that’s supposed to be your thing?”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” He grins, turning back to his screen. “Better get that man his coffee before he has another meltdown. God knows this office can’t handle one more.”
I hurry past him before I slap him stupid for having a laugh at Noah’s expense before. Martin didn’t exactly help with his sarcastic remarks, but he’s the one who got me this job, so I decide to keep my mouth shut.
The floor is nearly empty at this hour, with Ezra in his office if Martin’s still here, and a few people here and there still staring at their screens.
When I return with the coffee and supplies, Noah’s already cleared a space on his desk, pushing aside the broken glass from whatever he destroyed earlier. His sleeves are traditionally rolled up, revealing those thick forearms I see in my wet dreams, and there’s a focus to his movements that wasn’t there before.
“Here,” I say, setting the coffee within reach and placing the fresh pad in front of him.
He picks up a pencil, and his fingers flex around it, testing its weight. “This is going to take hours.”
“Then we better get started.” I settle into the chair across from his desk, pulling out my laptop. “What do you need from the zoning materials?”
For the next two hours, we work in surprising harmony. Noah sketches with an intensity that’s almost hypnotic—every line deliberate, every measurement exact.
Watching him work is mesmerizing. His hands move with precision despite the rage that consumed him earlier. I find myself stealing glances when he’s too absorbed to notice, studying the furrow between his brow and the way hisjaw clenches when he concentrates. There’s something almost beautiful about his intensity that doesn’t let me turn away.
“You’re staring,” he says without looking up, his pencil never pausing.
I feel heat creep up my neck. “I’m observing. Different thing.”
His lips twitch. “And what are you observing, princess?”
“That you’re actually good at this,” I admit, gesturing to the drawing taking shape under his hands. “Really good.”
He pauses then, lifting his gaze to mine with an expression I can’t quite read. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m—” I search for the right word, “impressed.”
A momentary flash of pride gets masked almost instantly. “You don’t need to butter me up. I’m not giving you a raise.”
I roll my eyes, turning back to my laptop. “You are not even paying my salary.”
We fall back into silence, but it’s different now—less tense, more relaxed. The dark office is illuminated by the city lights blinking outside the windows. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten since the salad Noah brought me at noon.
“We should order food,” I say, glancing at the clock on my laptop screen. “It’s almost ten.”
Noah looks up from his drawing, blinking like he’s forgotten the world exists outside this office. “Food?”
“You know, that thing normal people eat to survive?” I tease, saving the document I’ve been working on. “Unless you’ve figured out how to photosynthesize, but even for that you’d need the sun. And that baby has long gone.” I point out the dark window. “So I’m guessing you’re hungry too.”
He sets down his pencil, rolling his shoulders back. The movement draws my attention to the way his shirt stretches across his chest, and I quickly look away before he catches me staring again.
“There’s a good Thai place that delivers late,” he says, reaching for his phone. “You like spicy?”
“Depends. Are we talkingmild for touristsspicy oractual Thailandspicy?”
A genuine smile tugs at his lips—the first real one I’ve seen from him. “Somewhere in between. I’m not trying to kill you, princess.”
The endearment should annoy me, but coming from him right now, with his walls down and that tired smile on his face, it sends a flutter through my belly instead.
“Pad thai, medium spice,” I tell him, then pause. “And spring rolls if they have them.”
