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“I’m just his sister,” Jewell says. “We had a super mom.”
“I think it’s great,” Blake says.
“I can’t get used to this softer side of you,” Byron says, but he laughs, taking any harshness from the words.
“Don’t worry, little brother. It won’t be long until you have the same attitude,” Blake assures him.
“Don’t place any bets,” Byron says before sending me a look so intense I feel scorched to my seat. Who is the real Byron? Is he the insensitive hard-ass I first met? Or is he the kind brother-in-law and uncle? I really don’t know what’s an act and what’s genuine. But here’s the question: Do I want to know? The answer should be an emphatic no. But I’m not so sure. Once we finish dinner, Blake offers dessert and coffee, but I need to get home and back to work.
“I have a ton of work left to do since I wasn’t in the office all day, so I’m going to pass,” Byron says. “Do you need a ride home, McKenzie?” I forgot for a moment I rode here with Blake. It leaves me with little choice other than to accept.
In a flash, Byron and I say our goodbyes. We don’t speak as we move outside, hop in his vehicle, and drive down the road. I only live fifteen minutes from Jewell’s place, but the ride’s excruciating.
When Byron pulls up in front of my house, my stomach’s tied in knots. He gets out while I’m fumbling with my seat belt, opens my door, then holds out a hand to help me from the car. I pretend not to see his hand. I climb out, walk stiffly to my front door, insert the key, and twist the knob.
“I had a wonderful time with you tonight, McKenzie. Thanks for sharing a family dinner with me,” Byron says, and to my utter amazement, he walks down the steps. I stare after him. He didn’t even attempt a kiss, let alone try to get an invite inside.
He climbs into his car and revs the engine. I walk inside, shut and lock my door, and look out the front window as his taillights fade away. What just happened? Nothing. That’s what happened. Or hadn’t happened. Is Byron done chasing me? Is his game over? Has he lost his desire for me? Did my last refusal turn him away for good?
And, if it’s over, is this disappointment I’m feeling? I don’t have a single answer to any of these burning questions.
Chapter Sixteen
McKenzie
A bead of sweat drips down my temple as I walk alongside Byron to the rental car we picked up this morning at the airport. We just left the offices in Boise. Clouds cover the sky and rain threatens, but it’s unusually warm for early November, and I’m dressed for colder weather. It would be much nicer to shrug off my jacket, but I feel more protected in my wool suit.
“I hate it when I have to fire someone who’s worked for the company for so long,” Byron says as he unlocks the car and peels off his jacket, setting it and his briefcase on the backseat.
“It’s troubling to fire anyone,” I agree as I climb into the passenger side of the car and wait for him to get in and start the engine so I can point the vent in my direction and cool off.
“At least when I threatened to close the entire operation, we finally got some answers.” He loosens his tie before pulling it off and tossing it over his shoulder. He finally starts the car.
I hate that his small toss with the tie makes my stomach clench with desire. He isn’t stripping for me; he’s simply making himself more comfortable. But all I want to do is scramble over the console and into his lap.
It’s Friday afternoon and nothing’s happened between us since the dinner three days earlier. He came to work, behaved like a complete professional, and hasn’t attempted to touch me. And my job at Astor Construction is coming to a close. I only have a week to go. In the beginning it seemed like this job would drag on forever. Now, a week seems impossibly short.
I have my own business to run and working on Byron’s books is eating up time I don’t have, but I’m used to walking into his office in the morning, exchanging a few pleasantries with him, and speaking to him throughout the day.
When the man isn’t trying to intimidate me, he’s actually pretty decent company. And the longer I’m around him, the more I desire him. Is it because he isn’t doing anything to provoke this reaction from me? Or is it because I’ve finally lost it.
I try to assure myself his loss of interest is the best thing that can happen. He thinks of me as an easy woman, so if I jump into bed with him, I’m proving him right. It doesn’t seem to matter as my eyes trace the slight opening at the V of his neck. I need to get out of this car as soon as possible.
Byron pulls out of the attached parking garage, and we head down the road. The air conditioning should be cooling me off, but my body is too heated. I’m again tempted to ditch the jacket, but my blouse is damp, and I don’t want to expose my lacy bra, so I’ll suffer in silence. We’ll soon be at the airport. I’ll rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face.
“I’m starving,” Byron says, startling me out of my thoughts. “Are you hungry?”
“A little, but I can grab something at the airport.”
“We have plenty of time, McKenzie.”
“What time is the flight?”
“We’re taking a side trip before heading home.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I grow more heated as nerves shoot through me.
“What kind of side trip? Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” I add, reaching over to fiddle with my vent again, feeling on the verge of fainting.
“It’s not too warm,” he says, a sparkle in his eyes that makes my breathing even heavier.
