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I could sleep. Closing my eyes would probably be the best thing right now, but that attempt makes me all too aware of his presence beside me. The brush of his arm against mine occasionally feels like a branding iron to my skin, my arm bare, his covered in a long-sleeve button-up that has no business looking so good on him.

Maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but it’s almost as if I can feel his presence beside me.

“Excuse me,” I say suddenly, standing in my seat.

We’re not in first class, but business is roomier than coach. Gaige lifts his computer, flipping up the table tray, but he doesn’t stand, forcing me to practically straddle his legs to get by. His eyes drift to my stomach, tongue sneaking out to wet his lower lip as I move past him. I don’t meet the eyes of the other passengers as I pull my suitcase from the overhead bin and quickly get my computer out. Of course, I have issues trying to decide what to do with it while also needing to return the damn thing to the bin.

“Let me help you,” Gaige says as he takes my computer from my hands and places it in my seat.

He stands, his body practically aligning with mine in the narrow aisle, his chest brushing mine. I take a step back, my ass hitting another passenger.

“Sorry,” I mutter, turning around to face the man I hit, gaining a sneer from the woman sitting beside me.

Gaige chuckles at the man when he smiles and says, “No problem.”

I rush back to my seat, nearly crushing my computer, making sure to snap my belt back in place. The very last thing I need is another damn warning from the fucking air sheriff for not wearing it.

Gaige doesn’t try to talk to me when he takes his seat. He simply goes back to work, pulling a pair of glasses from his computer bag, and I hate myself for noticing how damn handsome he looks with them on his face.

Work doesn’t take precedence over creating a résumé, something I’ve never had to do before.

I connect to the in-flight Internet and research what elements a résumé should have. I wasn’t part of the hiring committee, so I’m not familiar with their format.

I spend the rest of the flight building it from scratch, hating how anemic it looks once I’m done. More than once I had to fight the urge not to wipe my face in order to keep tears from welling on my lashes, knowing it would draw unwanted attention. If this day is a warning of how my time doing this job will be, then it’s going to be horrible.

I sigh, closing my laptop and letting my eyes flutter closed.

A warm hand covers mine on the top of my closed computer, and I just let it stay there for a second, getting lost in the comfort. A hug from my sister would be amazing right now. The second I open my eyes and look down, it’s that damn hand, wearing that stupid ring, and I nearly lose it.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap, jerking my hand away. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

That ring is just one more reminder of just how messed up my life is. How people are truly disappointing. How people can hurt others, betray people without guilt or remorse. It’s so disgusting. I feel nauseated with the part I played in it.

His eyes look down at the hand still resting on the top of my computer and he frowns, as if that gold band is the only problem, as if it wasn’t there, then there wouldn’t be an issue at all. Slowly he pulls the hand away, his thumb rubbing the metal on the underside.

He doesn’t say another word as I turn my head and focus my attention out the window.

Chapter 13

Gaige

If I had any doubt that she wanted to put physical distance between the two of us, the demand that I never touch her again washed all of that away.

I should be grateful for the clarification. I did make the declaration to myself just yesterday in Wren’s office that she was off-limits. I meant it. At least, I think I did.

I really wanted to.

I affirmed that vow this morning when I got the notification that the hired car waited for her, and she didn’t show. I was sure she’d tucked tail and went back home. Deacon wouldn’t hold her to her signed contract if she changed her mind. He isn’t the type of man to force a scorned woman to work with a man she regretted sleeping with. It tows the line of sexual harassment, and he wasn’t going to bring on that sort of trouble. Or maybe he would since he’s forcing me to be her shadow in this endeavor even though he’s well aware we’ve been intimate. Who knows where the man’s head is at these days?

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