I cleared my throat. How long had we been standing there just staring at each other?
“Well, if you got it handled. I won’t bother you.” I turned to leave.
“Ah, actually.” She hesitated. “This delivery was supposed to go to the back entrance but somehow there was a mix-up. I was trying to move it out of the way.”
She was fixing her fringe when I turned back around. “Bit of an eyesore,” I hedged cautiously.Patience, I reminded myself.
Her hand dropped quickly. “I wanted to move it to the back office before any guests came down. It’s for a wedding this weekend.”
“Happy to help.” I hefted the box into my arms in one smooth movement. Showing off slightly. The bugger was heavy. I was sufficiently rewarded when her eyes flicked to my biceps. I flexed them as the box slipped and I readjusted to grab the bottom. She sucked in her lips and looked away. Thankfully, the box hid my cocky grin.
“Follow me,” she said.
Unfortunately, the box also blocked most of my view. The soft sounds of her heels clipping along the floor guided me. I risked my balance by looking around my burden to glimpse her retreating backside. My knuckles smashed on the corner as we turned and I almost dropped the box.
“Shit,” I swore. Served me right for not paying attention.
“Are you okay?” She helped me set the box down in a back room.
“I’m fine. Karma.” I mumbled the last part to myself.
She grabbed my hands and winced at my knuckles. It wasn’t anything bad but the skin was peeled back and there were little dots of blood along each knuckle.
“’Tis but a flesh wound,” I joked.
“Come here.” She didn’t drop my hand as we walked a few more feet to a small janitor’s closet. She set me down on an overturned bucket and opened a first aid kit on the wall.
“It’s fine. I’ll just rinse it off,” I half-heartedly said. To be honest, there was nothing sexier than her nursing me in that little suit.
She ignored me as she took out a few things, reading the backs and reaching for the next package.
“Some help I am.” I kept talking because, boy, it was quiet in that little room. “Now, I’m keeping you from your work.”
She ripped open a square packet and shook out a damp sheet. She crouched down, balancing on her heels and gestured for my injured hand.
“Really, if you need to get back to work. I’m fine—oh, ouch!” My hand shot back but she didn’t release it.
“It’s an alcohol wipe,” she said.
“It burns like the dickens,” I said.
Her eyebrows shot up behind her fringe. Her mouth was a flat line but a little light teased her eyes. “Like the dickens?” she repeated, staying focused on her work.
I sniffed haughtily. “Nah. This is fine. I’m totally fine.” My arm tried to pull out of her grip again when the next wipe burned even more.
Now she was definitely trying not to smile.
“I’m glad my pain brings you joy.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said lightly.
I leaned in closer and just about died when her mouth pursed and she blew a soft stream of air on my fingers. She may as well have been blowing on my cock for how hard I became in that second. I swallowed and began to mentally list all the states in America, a nearly impossible and terribly unsexy task.Don’t misinterpret things again.Just because I found her every single action sexy as all hell didn’t mean she was making a pass.
I was stock-still, too afraid to breathe or move for fear of pulling her onto my lap.
She looked up at me through her luxurious lashes. Her face was unreadable. But she wasn’t pulling back either, was she? Her gaze flicked between my eyes, dropped to my lips and then quickly shot back up. Our faces were only inches apart. My mind screamed a thousand reasons why it would be a great idea to close the distance between us. But then Skip’s dour expression popped into my head. Arms crossed over his flannel shirt and his face turned in a frown. Talk about a bucket of ice water dumped on my head.
My focus moved back to my knuckles. I cleared my throat and asked, “Why is it these shallow little cuts always burn more?”
