“That’s even better,” he said, turning toward his place. “I don’t even have to stop for food. Though I should ask what you’re in the mood for. I might not have it and we can hit the market.”
“I’m open for anything.” He turned and grinned at her. That one got away from her, and maybe him with the sexy smirk. “You’re biting your tongue to not sound ordinary with a comeback, aren’t you?”
“Saw right through that.”
He went to bump his elbow against hers, then stopped himself.
Probably for the best.
They’d already touched more than she’d planned. Every brush of contact had been innocent, accidental, harmless, and yet somehow, it never felt that way.
The slide of his arm against hers when they drifted too close.
The weight of his hands on her shoulders as he guided her out of someone’s path.
The quick, firm grab when she’d stumbled and he caught her like it was instinct.
None of it intentional. None of it forced.
And yet, every touch sent a slow burn spiraling through her.
Now here she was, going back to his place.
No strangers around to distract her.
No background noise to break the spell that always seemed to buzz between them.
Just the two of them.
His kitchen. His laugh. His nearness.
And the dangerous comfort of forgetting it wasn’t Monday through Friday anymore.
The minute Ethan unlocked the door and held it open, the faint scent of something clean drifted out to meet her. As if his sweat activated a more pleasant smell.
The urge to lift her arm and check if she stunk was great, but embarrassing. She’d be fine.
She stepped inside, forcing her eyes not to look down the hallway toward his bedroom suite. The place was stamped with his style.
Light, bright, modern. Uncluttered and immaculate. He worked the same way.
Though she was positive he paid someone to clean here.
He tossed his phone on the kitchen island and turned toward her with that same half-smile that always threw off her balance.
“Wine? Water? I’ve got a protein shake I never drink if you want to pretend we’re being healthy,” he joked.
“Water,” she said quickly, then softened it with a small laugh. “Please. Maybe wine with dinner, later.”
He grabbed two more bottles and handed one to her, she opened it and took a healthy gulp, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he swallowed next to her.
Her pulse picked up again. If drinking water next to him after a long, sweaty walk caused this reaction, she was in serious trouble.
She looked around some more, walked to the large windows and gazed out toward the water. “So what do you do to unwind on the weekends? I mean, I’d just sit here and watch the action.” She looked down and could see people walking around below.
He moved closer to stand beside her. “Depends who I’m unwinding with.”
Her breath caught, but she didn’t look away. She couldn’t. She started the conversation asking that silly question because she had to calm her damn nerves.
