Page 11 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

“You doubted the limbo king?” he asks like he’s appalled.

“No, but I didn’t expect you to go all Superman on me and save the day.”

He squeezes my hand. “I had to defend my title, which, by the way, makes you my reigning queen.”

I bump him with my shoulder as if I’m not loving the sound of that. “Says the man who probably has a harem of queens.”

“Truth?” He lifts his chin as we head for the buffet line. “I’ve never met a woman who held my attention better than a deadline, much less many women.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” I say, and realize I mean it. I know how lonely life is without someone special in it, and he’s too great a guy to live like that. It’s not like he has a family member he has to watch over.

“I don’t know about that. Work is a loyal mistress. She keeps my mind sharp and keeps me out of trouble.” He brushes his thumb over the back of my hand, holding my gaze. “Besides, if I had a harem, I might’ve missed meeting you.”

Either the honesty in his eyes is genuine, or he’s honed his delivery of the best lines on the planet to perfection. But from all of our communications, I know one thing for certain. Seth Braden is nothing if not honest, and that has my heart stumbling as we step into the buffet line. The buffet tables, which are heaped with food, are a good distraction from the heat between me and the man who pays my salary.

Seth hands me a plate and lowers his voice like we are coconspirators. “You load up on shrimp and veggies. I’ll stockpile lobster and meat, and we’ll share.”

I arch a brow, trying to cover the fact that my sister and I used to do the same thing. Sometimes we still do. “What if I don’t like to share?”

He presses his hand to my lower back, his thumb brushing over my skin and his eyes gleaming with a tantalizing mix of heat and playfulness. “Then I’ll have to make it worth your while.”

Heat curls low in my belly. “You have all the answers, don’t you?”

“As a matter of fact, I usually do, so you might as well get used to it. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together this weekend.”

I shoot him a look that I hope masks how much I like the sound of that. “Is that so?”

“You said you don’t get out much. I’m going to fix that.”

“Fixing me already?” I tease. “Should I be taking notes on all the ways you plan to improve my life?”

“Only the fun ones.” His gaze flicks over me, heated but amused, and suddenly the night feels a lot warmer.

The line moves forward, but I’m still caught somewhere between exhilaration and awareness that this man could unravel me in a heartbeat.

As we make our way through the buffet, stockpiling seafood, various meats, and several delicious-looking sides, Seth tosses me conspiratorial nods. Several of the staff greet him with warm familiarity. He introduces each person to me by name and asks after some of their parents and children. When we step away from the buffet, his hand lands on the small of my back again, the heat of his palm keeping me in a state of heightened anticipation. I’m glad for the breeze coming off the water as he leads me toward the bar.

I glance around us, looking for an empty table, when Seth’s hand slides around my waist, and he pulls me closer. “Best seats are down by the water. Unless you’d prefer not to sit in the sand.”

Relief washes through me. “Actually, I’d rather sit by the water.”

“Great. A night like this calls for a little indulgence. Do you like champagne?”

Wow, do I ever. Not that I have it often. “I do.”

“Indulgence it is.” He gives my waist a squeeze as we step up to the bar.

“Seth, I tought that was you at the buffet,” the bartender, a middle-aged man with a hint of gray and an island lilt to his voice, says. “But then I noticed your beautiful lady friend and tought I must’ve been mistaken.” He flashes a teasing smile.

Seth and I laugh.

“Good to see you’re still causing trouble, Javon.” Seth sets his plate on the bar to shake his friend’s hand, and when Javon takes it, they both lean into a one-armed embrace over the bar.

I can tell this man is important to Seth. I find myself gathering these little hints about the man behind the emails like breadcrumbs, tucking them away to piece together later.

“Javon, this is Eleanor.” Seth’s hand meets my back again, like it belongs there, as he looks at me and says, “Watch out for this guy, El. He’s trouble waiting to happen.”

I love the way he calls me El and Ellie. “Sounds like someone else I know,” I say pointedly, earning another waist squeeze. I stifle my surprise and smile at Javon. “Pleasure to meet you.”