“But what if he leaves?”
Steven wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “If he does, I’ll show up with a whole box of eucalyptus leaves. But he has to have the choice. It’s not fair to him any other way.”
“I know,” I said, and I did. That didn’t make this any easier.
We talked some more about picking the right moment and not just blurting it out because I was freaking out, and notto distance myself emotionally because I was scared. I left our lunch feeling more grounded than I’d been, despite not having the answers I craved.
One thing there was no denying, I needed to tell Hari. Not this second, but maybe after another date someplace private where he could feel safe and not trapped, which meant definitely not at my house.
There was so much more to consider, but talking to Steven helped a lot. The fact was, I wasn’t going to know what happened next until it did, and as sucky as that was, that was the reality of it. Please don’t let me mess this up.
9
HARI
“I miss him.”
Jackson was back in the office for a day before leaving again in the morning. The hotel wanted everything done yesterday, and he’d had to remind them why they chose us rather than another company that mass produced products.
The extra staff he’d hired were in the workshop under the tutelage of Callum and Adrian.
Though my staff were used to me expressing my inner thoughts outwardly, Jackson had been absent so much, he swung his chair around and studied me.
“Fill me in, boss. What have I missed?”
“A guy.”
He side-eyed me. Jackson was allowed to do that because we’d known one another and worked together for years.
“I got that reference. The word ‘him’ gave it away.”
I laughed. It was good to have him here, if only for a day.
“You remember the mixup with the coffee table?”
Jackson rubbed his chin. “That guy? Mr. Radisson? He’s the one you’re keen on?”
His reaction was a little over the top. Sure, that guy was a customer whom I treated with respect. But though I wasn’t into him, I could have been.
“And would that be so wrong?” I needed to hear why me being in lust with Mr. Radisson produced such a response from my friend.
“He’s not your type. I scented him.” He shook his head.
Why would the guy’s body wash or cologne be so offensive? I hadn’t noticed his smell. He definitely didn’t have BO. But I had Remy on my mind and didn’t want to discuss Mr. Radisson’s choice of scent.
“Not him. The other one.” I rambled on about Remy and the mixup with the number. I gave Jackson a look, and he apologized for his mistake, but he didn’t appear to be sorry. Instead, he was grinning.
“Oh,thatone.” He got up and walked from the office into the showroom. “He sat at this table and ate dinner with you.” He bent over the table and inhaled. “His scent is pretty well ingrained in the wood.”
Huh? That made no sense. I leaned toward the table and picked up a faint curry aroma from that night. Damn, I’d have to get rid of that. I performed the hand sniff test where I placed my nose on my palm and inhaled before sniffing the wood. Ahhh, there it was. A faint whiff of the man I was lusting over.
“That’s him. I wish you could meet him.” It was a tad sad that parts of Remy were embedded in the wood rather than me being in him. The thought of my cock being anywhere near his hole had me sweating profusely, and I picked up one of the napkins in the place settings and dabbed at my brow.
“I feel as though I know him already.” He grinned and grabbed a towel from the “bathroom.” “You’ve been hit hard, boss.”
“Not sure he likes me. One minute I’m certain he does, but then he veers away and gets a distant look in his eyes.”
“He does.”
