“Sounds good.” He follows my lead as I make a left out of the building.
We walk in silence for a few minutes, but every now and then, I sense Mr. Graves’s stare boring into my profile. Only, whenever I look, he’s always facing forward, or taking in the views of the city.
Strange…
We order our lunch at the deli counter—a turkey club for Mr. Graves, and a tomato soup and grilled cheese for me. I try to pay for my meal, but Mr. Graves swipes his card before I have time to reach for my wallet, leaving no room for argument.
“You showed me this place,” he says. “It’s only right that I pick up the check.”
Flattered that he’s being such a gentleman, I thank him and find us a table to sit at while he waits for our order. My stomach flutters as he sits down opposite me, his smile wide and forearms rippling as he passes me my food.
“Thank you again.” I drop my gaze to my meal as a wave of shyness overcomes me. “You’re being very kind.”
He grins as he unwraps his sandwich. “Just paying you back for showing me someplace good to eat.”
He takes a bite, and his eyes roll back as a low groan echoes from his throat. I freeze, all too aware of the flush creeping upmy neck, the head building between my thighs. No man should be this sexy. It just isn’t fair.
“Sounds like you’re enjoying it,” I say, my voice coming out raspier than I’d like. I clear my throat and take a bite of my own lunch, but I can’t fully enjoy the taste, too flustered from the sight of the man sitting across from me and his heated stare.
Mr. Graves watches my throat as I swallow, and if I wasn’t so attracted to the man, I might think his rapt attention was a bit creepy. He drags his eyes down, and my skin prickles with awareness.
“You have a beautiful body,” he says, nearly too quiet for me to hear.
Indignation flushes my face, and I jerk back in alarm. “Excuseme?”
I was enjoying his attention, sure. But making comments about mybodyis going too far.He’s my boss for God’s sake.
Mr. Graves tilts his head to the side, brows furrowing in genuine confusion. “I said—you have a button undone. On your blouse.” The creases in his face deepen along with his frown. “What is it you think I said, Grace?”
“I… nothing,” I mutter, shame replacing the heated anger rushing through my veins.Am I losing my mind? Is all the stress and lack of sleep taking its toll on my brain?
I focus on fixing my blouse while Mr. Graves goes back to eating his sandwich, the picture of composure. I’m distracted, so I don’t notice the random man approaching from the side, intending to squeeze past my chair. The space is a little cramped, and unfortunately, he knocks right into my chair, pushing my body forward, and my elbow dips right into my tomato soup.
“Ah!” I jerk back in surprise, gazing down at the bright red stain. I grab a napkin and try to wipe some of it away, but it only makes the situation worse. “Damn,” I murmur. “This was my favorite blouse.”
With a sigh, I turn my attention back to Mr. Graves, but he’s no longer in his seat.
“Excuse me! Sir!”
My face heats as the stranger who bumped into me whips around, his brow furrowing at the sight of Mr. Graves waving him over. Reluctantly, the man comes closer, stopping a few feet from the table.
“What?”
Mr. Graves stares him down with a stony expression. “You bumped into this lady’s chair and ruined her blouse. I think you owe her an apology.”
The man sneers at Mr. Graves, then turns to me with a glower. “I’m sorry that a tiny spot of soup ruined your day, lady. Now can I go?”
Mr. Graves shoves his hands in his pockets, the vein in his temple throbbing. “No. Apologize to her.Properlythis time.”
The man scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’re not the king of Moriton, buddy. Fuck off.”
Sensing the rising tension, I reach out, grabbing Mr. Graves’s hand. “It’s fine, Mr. Graves. Really. This guy isn’t worth it. Please, let's just go back to eating and forget about it.”
The man laughs under his breath. “Better listen to your bitch. She’s got some sense.”
But Mr. Graves doesn’t seem to hear him. His eyes are locked on the spot where my hand is grasping his, the muscle in his jaw jumping wildly.
Without a word, he sits back down at the table, offering me a wide grin. “Of course. Let’s go back to our meal. I’m sorry for my outburst.”
