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"I want you."
She let out a sigh. "You’re not hearing me, Jack."
"Correction, sugar. You’re not hearing me." He stood, walked around the desk and turned her chair to face him. One long finger gently nudged her chin upward and she met his gaze. "I’ll take the referral to a qualified attorney. I want this done right. But I’m still going to be here every morning until you agree to have coffee with me. Just coffee. No alcohol. No dinner. No kisses, no sex. Just one hour, Holly. That’s all I’m asking. One hour to get to know a little about me, and I’ll get to know a little about you. If you still want to say good-bye after that, I’ll walk away."
"But I’m too old for you."
"Bullshit." His fingers glided over her jaw line to cup her cheek. The calloused pad of his thumb stroked her bottom lip lightly.
She closed her eyes. His touch felt so wonderful, so perfect.
Would it really hurt to have coffee with the guy? They had no future, but heck, some caffeine and a heavy dose of cowboy drawl sounded pretty good right about now.
Oh, she’d regret it. Spending time with him would make it all that much harder to say good-bye. God knew, though, she’d been through worse.
"All right." She placed her hand over his, still holding her cheek. It was firm, warm and masculine and made her heart flutter.
Okay, that was a mistake. She brushed his hand away from her face and dropped her own to her side and stood. "Let’s go."
They ended up at the coffee shop across the street, a little Mom and Pop Shop called Mocha Dreams that had, so far, stood up to Starbucks. Jack bought Holly a Vanilla Latte and he had black coffee.
"I’m a purist," he said and she couldn’t help but smile.
"So," he said, handing her the Latte and pulling out a chair for her at one of the little round tables. "Tell me about Holly Taylor."
"There’s a loaded question." Holly tried to sound nonchalant. There was both nothing and everything to tell. Her life hadn’t been that exciting.
"I’m from here originally. Where are you from?"
His grin split his face. "Texas."
Of course. The drawl, the persistence, the raw male beauty, his size. Everything about Jack Sherwood was big.
"Okay, I’m dying to ask. Why were you modeling nude last night?"
His laugh filled the room. "I was doing a favor for a friend."
"For who?"
"Mark Fleming, the teacher."
"You know Professor Fleming?"
"He’s my godfather."
This just kept getting better and better. Holly shook her head and took a sip of latte.
"So you were out late last night and up with the birds this morning. Where’s your boy?"
"Sam’s with my mom for the week, having some grandma time. Mom knew I was helping Mark out, knew I’d be out late. I’m modeling for all his classes this week, not just yours. Some are during the day."
"What do you do otherwise?"
"I run a small ranch about an hour from here, so I’m used to getting up early."
Holly shook her head again. "You’re not anything like I expected."
"What’d you expect?"
