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“Don’t be.” I shrug. No one should feel anything for the man, sorry or otherwise. “We take turns on the weekend to go see her. Ya know, check in and shit.”
“That’s nice.”
“She’s a good mom.”
“My mom is good as well, but I only get out to see her a few times a year.”
“Why?”
“Life?” Her shoulders heft as she shoves her hands into the back pocket of her jeans.
She’s just as sexy in a paint-splattered T-shirt and jeans as she is in her business attire. I’m getting used to seeing her like this. She’s approachable, which is probably why I’m about to do what I’m going to do.
Sure, I’ll kick myself in the ass for it later. But I can’t let another day go by without being closer to her.
Fuck. I can’t sleep, and whenever I see her at the jobsite, I want to walk up and kiss her. It’s messed up.
“Do you want to go get something to eat?”
“What?” Her eyes pop open wide. “Now?”
“Sure, we can grab a pizza, or you can go home, wash up, and I can take you somewhere nice. It’s up to you.”
Her brows press together. She looks at me from the corner of her eyes. “Why, Mr. Daxon, are you asking me out on a date?”
“I am, Miss Redmon.”
“Well, then, I accept.” She smiles up at me. “You can pick me up at seven.”
I take a moment to memorize her face. “See you then.”
Strangely nervous, I arrive ten minutes early and rap my knuckles on her door. It swings open to reveal the sexiest woman in a little black dress I’ve ever feasted my eyes upon, clarifying my nervousness.
What the hell am I getting myself into here? This woman could wreck me. Drag me tied to the back of a truck through a bed of rocks, wreck me.
“You look gorgeous,” I say, unable to keep the truth to myself.
“Thank you.” A small smile tugs on her pretty lips.
Apparently, she got the reaction she was aiming for.
Her head tilts. “I thought I’d show off my power tonight.”
“It’s radiating from you, Miss Redmon.”
“Please.” She touches my shoulder, and I feel the touch to my soul. “Let’s stick to Cassie. It’s more informal, and tonight, I’m not about being your boss.”
I bite my bottom lip. “Cassie.” I run my eyes down the length of her. “You’re definitely someone’s boss. But I guarantee you”—I lift my view to hers—“you’re not mine.”
“Good.” Her brows flick with mischievousness. “Now,” she says with a crooked grin. “I’m ready.”
“Yes. You do portray a resemblance of ready.” I put out my elbow. “Shall we?”
“Be careful, Brett.” She loops her arm in mine. “I might mistake you for a gentleman.”
I slide my eyes to her, feeling a tug on the corner of my mouth. “Oh, Cassie, that’ll never happen.” Arm in arm, we walk to the elevator. “It’s something else I can guarantee you.”
I stop and press the elevator button. “Especially while you’re showing off your power.”
