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“Yes?”
“Why did you bid on my lot? Why not somebody else’s? There are some amazing ones tonight. You could have gotten a vacation on a yacht or a trip to the Bahamas.”
He runs his thumb along his chin as though considering my question. Then he takes a step toward me and all logical thought goes out of my brain. I don’t know when I started to find him so achingly attractive, but now that I do I can’t get it out of my mind.
It’s not just the way he looks at me. It’s that he’s different. Honest. I can hear Michael’s voice in the background, schmoozing the audience and the difference between him and Liam couldn’t be more stark.
Yes, he can be annoying. But I think more than anything it’s because I can’t control my responses to him. I’m used to being calm but whenever he’s around I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster that’s speeding out of control.
It’s frightening. And exhilarating.
“I thought I could help a friend at the same time as supporting a charity,” he says quietly. “I assumed you wouldn’t want those lawyer guys to have the winning bid. And Ava already looked awkward so I took over.”
“You bid way above the value of my lot.”
His lip quirks. “If you say so.”
“I’ll do the forecasts for you,” I tell him, because there’s no way I’m letting him spend that much money and have nothing to show for it.
“I told you already you didn’t have to.”
“But I want to,” I say. “It’s for charity.”
He pulls at his collar and my eyes immediately hone in on the dip at the bottom of his neck. His shirt is unbuttoned, his bow tie hanging loose.
“Okay then,” he says. “How do we play this?”
“I just need an itinerary from you,” I tell him. “You can ask your assistant to send it to me if you’d like. Then I’ll give you a personalized forecast based on your location and plans.”
“I’ll send it to you,” he says.
“That works.”
“I won’t always know where I’m going to be each week though. It’ll mostly vary between here and New York, but I have to travel elsewhere sometimes.”
“That’s okay. You can just let me know when you know. Sunday evenings would be great for your weekly plans. That way I’ll have enough time to do the forecast and send it to you each morning. There’s no point in me sending it to you halfway through the day.”
“And what will I do with this forecast?” he asks, a smile playing at his lips.
“Know whether to carry an umbrella I guess.” I find myself smiling back at him. “Or whether to run outside or indoors on a treadmill.”
His brows dip. “You think I need to start running?”
“I don’t know.” I try not to smile as he looks down to check his perfectly flat stomach. “The whole point is that the forecast is meant to help you make good decisions.”
He starts to laugh.
“What?” I say, almost grinning because his laughter is contagious.
“If I knew a daily forecast from you would help me make good decisions I’d have paid for it long ago.”
“I meant decisions about whether to be inside or outside,” I tell him, rolling my eyes.
“I know that,” he teases. “But maybe I like the idea of you being my decision guru.”
“So we’ll start on Monday,” I tell him, because I don’t think I can deal with him being sweet much longer. Annoying, yes. Even charming. But sweet…
That’s too much.
