I cocked an eyebrow.“Yeah.And?”
“Don't think I've ever heard you curse before.”
“Oh please.I'm sure you have.”
“Nope.You're all sunshine and rainbows.”
“And you're storm clouds and thunder.”The words flew out before I could catch them, and the playful atmosphere dissipated.“I'm sorry.I didn't mean that.”
“It's fine.You're not wrong.”Carter stood, scooping up his trash and dumping it in the bin.“I'm gonna get back to work.Come on, Pete.”
I grabbed his forearm as he passed by.The moment my fingers touched his skin, an electric current zipped through me.
Carter froze, his muscles tensing beneath my hand.His eyes locked onto mine, widening slightly.
“I… “ What was I even trying to say?That I was sorry for making things weird?That I wanted us to go back to how we were before?
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
I made myself take a deep breath then tried again.“I hope we can move past...the incident.I value our working relationship, and I'd hate for things to stay awkward between us.”
Carter's gaze softened, and he gave me a half smile.“Olivia, everything's fine.You don't need to worry.”
I nodded, relief washing over me.But then I noticed I was still touching him and heat crept up my neck.I snatched my hand away, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.
Carter cleared his throat, shifting his weight.“Was there anything else?”
“No, that's all.Thanks.”I busied myself with straightening papers on the counter, avoiding his eye.
“Alright then.Back to work.”Carter's voice was gruff, but not unkind.He turned and strode towards his office, Pete scampering at his heels.
I let out a shaky breath, willing my heart to slow its frantic beating.Everything was fine, Carter had said so himself.So why did I feel like I'd just run a marathon?
* * *
Walkingto the deli to pick up lunch had been a mistake.My body was in full protest.I felt drained and achy in a way I hadn't in weeks.
Carter approached my desk, a pile of papers in hand.I tried to hide my discomfort as I settled back into my chair.
“Olivia, I need your help with—” He stopped mid-sentence, his brow creasing.“Are you alright?”
I forced a smile.“I'm fine, Carter.What can I help you with?”
He set the papers down and leaned against my desk, his eyes searching my face.“You're not fine.You're in pain.”
“It's nothing,” I insisted, reaching for the papers.“What's the project?”
Carter's large hand covered mine, stopping me.His touch sent a shiver through me, momentarily distracting me from the ache in my pelvis.
“The project can wait,” he said firmly.“You need to rest.”
“Carter, I'm okay.I can work.”
He straightened up, crossing his arms over his broad chest.“Olivia, I insist.Go lie down in the guest bedroom.”
“But—”
“No buts.Your health comes first.The work will still be here when you're feeling better.”
