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“Are you mad?” Oliver set his cell on the table and sat down next to her. She shifted her chair a bit away from him, trying to put some distance between them.
Damn, why does he have to smell so good?
“About what?” she asked.
“That I didn’t let you pay for the pizza. I didn’t even ask if you liked Round Table; it’s just what I always order ’cause I live right down the street.”
“No, that’s fine,” she said.
Suddenly, Beast was pushing his way between their chairs, and Oliver cursed. “Will you get out of the way?”
“For a guy who’s supposed to be training dogs, you don’t seem like much of a dog person,” she said.
“My dad worked with German shepherds and rottweilers as police dogs, so I was around them, but we never had one as a pet.”
“That’s too bad,” Eve said, reaching down to stroke Beast’s big head. “Dogs are awesome. I bet if you gave this guy a chance, you’d love him.”
“He’s pushy,” Oliver groused.
“Ah, you don’t like him because he’s like you.” Eve grinned as Oliver glared at her.
“So, this social-media stuff. Tell me what you want me to do,” he said.
Eve pushed her irritation down at his brusqueness. What had happened to the guy who’d tried to charm her over lunch? Or the one who’d looked at her earlier with so much heat, she almost combusted just being near him? Had that all just been one-sided? Had she imagined it?
What does it matter? Didn’t we already decide that getting involved with him was a bad idea? That we weren’t going to be ruled by sexual attraction?
Shaking off her hurt, she took out the laptop to show him her spreadsheet. “Okay, I took the liberty of setting up your website domain, your Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, since your guys hadn’t done it yet.”
“Hey, why do I get lumped in with the rest of these guys? I just got here.”
“Because I saw your Facebook page, and you really are barely there.” Shit, she had just admitted to cyber stalking him. Great.
“You checked me out, huh?”
“Don’t get too excited,” she said. “I wanted to show you the basics of how to get in and out of the accounts, set up events, and post. Do you have the apps on your phone?”
“No, like I said, I barely look at my personal Facebook account,” Oliver said.
She sighed loudly and held out her hand. “Give it.”
“Has anyone told you you’re bossy?”
“All the time, but it tends to be effective when I want things to get done,” she said.
Oliver picked up his phone and held it out to her. Just as she was about to take it, he pulled it back. “First, say please.”
“Really?” She sounded exasperated, but that was too bad.
“You want my phone and my help? Then I’m going to need you to have a little patience and treat me with respect. Understood?”
He could tell he’d surprised her by her wide-eyed, horror-filled expression. After several seconds she flushed crimson and looked away from him.
“I’m sorry. I was rude. May I please have your phone?”
“Thank you.” He placed the phone in her hand and watched as she bent over the screen, noting that her cheeks were still a dull red. He got the feeling that Eve didn’t get called out on being anything but nice too often, but he didn’t want Eve to think he was weak and that she could just run roughshod over him and he would sit back and take it. She was a strong, independent, sexy woman, but he was a man. A strong, virile man who didn’t cow or bow to anyone.
When she finished downloading the apps, he reached out to take her hand. Her soft, warm skin against his rough palm was irresistible, and he couldn’t stop from running his thumb across the back of it as he studied her nails. Each one had a different design. At first, she tried to tug her hand away, but when he held it firm, she relaxed. Slightly.
