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How could this be happening?
She watched in not a little horror as he made his way around the table, shaking the men’s hands and getting closer to having to say…something…to her. Was he going to make it clear they knew each other? Did she want him to?
Naturally, her nerdy engineer’s brain began drawing up pro and con lists. On the side of acknowledging their familiarity was that it would be super hella awkward to have to pretend they were strangers, and it would also kinda suck to deny the connection they’d shared, when she felt like it’d been so thoroughly based on honesty and openness. And of all the things they’d talked about, how the heck hadn’t they covered their jobs?
It was a full-on head-desk moment.
But on the side of hello, stranger, you must be new around these parts was her gut-deep embarrassment at having slept with a co-worker and the other men maybe figuring that out.
Next to her now, Jesse was shaking Flannery’s hand, which meant it was her turn to try to act like a normal human being. Whatever that meant in this situation, she didn’t have a single clue. Especially when Jesse was so freaking hot. Like, you’d think her body would be in too great a state of panic to notice that. But nooooo. Of course not. Instead, it was like her blood and her skin were attuned to the man, with her scalp remembering the feel of his hand and her clit remembering the suction of his mouth and her core remembering the satisfying fullness of his cock.
Oh, Jesus, Tara, don’t think about his cock.
And naturally that was the moment he moved to stand in front of her. Tara stood to return his handshake. Their gazes collided as their fingers touched, and she thought she saw in his dark eyes the roiling ball of conflicting emotions she felt herself.
“Hey,” he said. And with just that one word in that familiar deep voice, she felt the memory of his arms around her waist and his chin settle on her head, the way it had last night. “Jesse Anderson. Nice to meet you.”
The words kinda hit her like a gut punch. Which was ridiculous when she’d just been debating pretending like she didn’t know him either. “Uh, hey, Jesse,” she managed. “Tara Hunter. Welcome to the team.”
“Welcome to DC.”
“You really know how to show a guy a good time.”
“Thanks,” he said, while her brain ran a repeated loop of Oh, baby Jesus, help me.
He held onto her hand a beat longer than felt natural, so she withdrew. His brows cranked down just the littlest bit, and her mind unhelpfully replayed another conversation from last night.
“Did it get awkward?”
“Not yet.”
Dear God, the awkward achievement had definitely been unlocked now. Like, Defcon-1-level awkward even.
As Jesse moved to greet Boone, Tara sank back into her chair and attempted to plaster a neutral expression on her face that she feared probably looked more like Edvard Munch’s The Scream.
On his way to grab some breakfast and a seat further down the table, Jesse moved behind her chair again, and the ripple of awareness that tingled across her back made her feel like she was a c
ompass and he was True North.
As Boone started introducing some of the contracts he’d already signed for the season, Tara could barely focus on the words coming out of the man’s mouth.
And that was the biggest problem of all in this whole goddamned mess.
Tara did not tolerate distractions at work. Could not.
Not when she’d nearly died in the water. Not when it’d taken her so many therapy sessions, not to mention the alternate therapy of Warrior Fight Club, to feel confident getting back into the water. And not when she sometimes still struggled with anxiety at the mere prospect of it.
But Jesse…
She fought the urge to peer down the table at him.
Jesse Anderson was definitely a distraction.
Now Tara just had to figure out what she was going to do about it.
Chapter 6
Unfuckingbelievable.
