Besides, it gives me something to do with my hands. For as prickly and openly hostile as he is, there’s also something about him that makes me want to reach for him. It’s bizarre and against any self-preservation instincts that I should have, since he clearly doesn’t like me or want me in his space and is more likely to bat me away than pull me close.
Still.
Luke watches me for a moment, like he’s trying to decide if it’s a battle worth fighting. Finally, he gives me a short nod and goes to collect the rest of the dishes from the table.
When everything is clean and put away, there’s nothing left to do but face him again. The kitchen suddenly feels smaller, the air charged with something I don’t fully understand, but can’t ignore.
“Well.” I smooth my hands down thefront of my sweater. “I should probably turn in.” I offer him a small smile.
He frowns in return. “Goodnight.”
When he doesn’t make a move to get out of my way, I step to the side to squeeze past him. But the space is too narrow for me to slip by his broad shoulders, and I end up brushing my chest against him. The contact is light and totally accidental, yet it hits with a shock of electricity.
My breath catches.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
I look up so my eyes meet his.
Then his jaw tightens, and he jerks backward, putting real space between us as if the contact burned him.
“Don't make this complicated.”
My chest tightens, shame burning through me. “I wasn’t…I didn’t mean to?—”
“Good,” he stops me. His expression is hard and unreadable. “Because you’re here for a reason.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “That wasn’t?—”
“And this is temporary,” Luke continues, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “Let’s keep it professional.”
I take a step back and straighten my shoulders. “Understood.” I meet and hold his gaze.
Despite the humiliation burning low in my belly, I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s thrown me off. “Goodnight, Luke.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk down the hall. I refuse to rush, feeling his eyes on my back all the way to the guest room.
Only when the door closes behind me do I release the breath I’ve been holding.
I lean back against the door and take a few deep breaths.
Professional. Right. As if there were any other option.
My embarrassment burns into anger. I wasnottrying to be unprofessional. I’ve done nothingbutbe professional.
If I had any other option, I’d go right back out there and give him a piece of my mind. Except…Idon’thave any other option.
This is it. My job. My place to live.
For at least a month.
Hopefully by then I’d have something else figured out.
I grab my laptop and flop onto my bed to check my emails. Maybe if I’m lucky, there will be a response to one of the many emails I’ve sent out offering me my dream job, so I can get the hell off the mountain.Away from Luke and his way too broad shoulders that take up too much damn space. And his strong, muscular chest that—dammit.
I wasn’t being unprofessional. But I’d be lying if I said one or two unprofessional thoughts hadn’t popped into my head over the last twenty-four hours.
I’ve never seen a man who looks like him. Not in real life. He’s built like the mountain he lives on. All hard, immovable muscle, towering over me. Maybe if he wasn’t so damn grumpy, I might actually—no.
