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“No problems. Things are running just as they should for the regular-season opener.”
He couldn’t even touch her anymore without images of that tentative kiss of hers heating him from the inside out. He didn’t know how he’d found the willpower to let her retreat to her own room last night when the need for a better taste of her rode his back like a tackle he couldn’t break.
“Then, what did you need?” She slid her hand away from his, making him wonder what she felt when they touched.
“What do I need? To see you.” He huffed out a breath and braced an elbow on one of the nearby shelves. “I came here to insist on that dinner I offered since it seemed as though you’re being elusive today, and it’s bugging me that I don’t know why.”
She busied herself with returning the lace to its small hanger and finding the proper place to reshelve it. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “But now that I’m here, it occurs to me that the bigger reason I needed to see you is that I can’t seem to think about anything else.”
He watched as her busy movements slowed. Stopped. Color washed her cheeks, confirming his suspicion that she suffered from the same madness as he did. And yes, it gave him tremendous amounts of male satisfaction to think he wasn’t the only one feeling it.
She clutched a handful of indigo-colored silk and squeezed.
“You made it clear that I’ve become a distraction,” she reminded him, a hint of bitterness creeping into the words.
“Is that why you’re avoiding me? Because I didn’t make a more romantic gesture?” His hands were on her before he’d thought through the wisdom of touching her again.
Spinning her away from the fabric display, he turned her to face him, his palms settling into the indent of her waist. Hidden from view, he wrestled with the urge to feel more of her, to mold her to him and put an end to the damnable simmering distraction.
If she’d been anyone else, the next move would have already been made. But this was Addy.
“No. Thinking about romance will not help get us through the next few weeks,” she told him evenly. “I’m not one of your girlfriends with a legal agreement you can keep renegotiating, okay? You laid out the terms when you put me on the spot with this engagement. I’m not sure why you think you can keep rewriting those terms to give you more benefits.”
The bitterness in her voice had vanished. Taking its place was a trace of hurt.
An emotional one-two punch that he’d never intended.
His hands tightened on her waist. His throat dried up.
“You’re right.” Closing his eyes, he dragged in a deep breath and only succeeded in inhaling a hint of night-blooming roses. “I haven’t thought about how this is affecting you. That day you told me you were quitting, I was completely focused on making sure that didn’t happen. I came up with the only short-term solution I could.”
Dempsey became aware of the sound of a woman’s high heels clicking on the concrete floor behind him. She was heading their way.
“Ms. Thibodeaux, do you have any questions—” A tall blonde woman in a dark suit rounded the corner and came into view. “Oh. Hello there.” She blushed at the sight of them together, making Dempsey realize how close he’d gotten to Adelaide during this discussion.
How much closer he still wanted to be.
“I put the last sample back,” Adelaide told her, edging around Dempsey and straightening. “I’ll give you a call once I have a better idea of what I might need.”
The woman was already backing away. “Of course! No problem. And congratulations on your engagement.”
As soon as the sales clerk disappeared from view, Adelaide swung around to face him.
“So now that you’ve acknowledged this engagement was a mistake, are you ready to call it off and maybe life can go back to normal?” Her hazel eyes seemed greener in this light. Or maybe it was the combination of anger and challenge firing through them.
“Not until I have a better short-term solution.” He understood they needed to have this discussion since this attraction was proving far too distracting at a time when he needed absolute focus. “But you can help me brainstorm alternatives. Over dinner.”
* * *
Two hours later, Adelaide sat cross-legged on a wooden Adirondack chair behind Dempsey’s house overlooking Lake Pontchartrain. A blaze burned in the round fire pit in front of them as they finished a meal of Cajun specialties obtained by Evan from a local restaurant. Adelaide hadn’t wanted to risk a public outing, unwilling to smile and lie politely about her engagement to Dempsey when the man was hell-bent on taking their relationship into intimate terrain.
