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I like that too.

“What?” she asks.

I realize I have been looking at her.

“Nothing.”

She gives me a look like she doesn't believe me.

“Just observing,” I say.

Her lips curve, but she holds my gaze.

The attraction has been there since the first time I saw her across the Meridian office. That part is easy. Blair is exactly the kind of woman I notice—tall, striking, confident, black hair framing a face I have found myself looking at far too often today.

What I did not expect was to like talking to her this much.

That is usually where things get complicated.

I take another sip and decide complication can wait.

She shakes her head. “You really are exactly what people say.”

“And what do people say?”

“That you flirt with everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Close enough.”

“I didn’t flirt with Randall.”

She laughs again, louder this time.

I point at her with my glass. “Important distinction.”

“I’ll give you that.”

“And I’m not flirting with everyone now.”

Her eyes settle on mine.

The air in the room gets a little warmer, a little heavier.

She takes a slower sip of wine. “No?”

“No.”

The amusement stays in her face, but there’s something else there now.

I lean closer, and her gaze drops briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes, and that small movement tells me more than anything she could have said.

But I don't move toward her. Instead, I reach for the bottle on the table and top off both of our glasses.

The tension does not disappear. If anything, it gets worse.

Blair picks up her glass and watches me over the rim. “You do that on purpose.”