Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
That’s true. And maybe I can direct some conversation to work talk and get a better idea of what the hell Chrissy is thinking. I’m smart enough to do that slyly without him being any the wiser. And if not, a nice dinner with someone who wants to go out with me isn’t the worst way to spend an evening.
It’s not like anyone else is asking you out, I remind myself bitterly.
Still torn, and using everything from do it for Cold Springs to hey, he is hot for my reasoning, I force a fake smile onto my face and coyly slip my hair behind my ear in the universal sign of flirtation. “That sounds great.”
He isn’t surprised at my acceptance. In fact, he seems cocky about it, like it was a foregone conclusion, which irks me. I’m no one’s sure thing. Not anymore, not ever again.
“I’ll call you later, and we can decide when and where? I’m not sure how long this is going to take with Mrs. Ford.”
“Sure,” I force out.
“Till later, then,” Oliver whispers into my ear, his lips brushing along the shell. A shiver runs through my body, but not for the reason he thinks. Rather, it feels wrong. Like I’m betraying someone . . . or something. But that’s ridiculous. There’s no one and nothing to betray.
Besides myself.
As he spins and walks down the hall, I let my smile fall away. It’s only when Oliver waves to someone that I realize who’s standing at the other end of the hallway.
Jesse.
He looks downright murderous. And is heading right toward me.
Shiiiit.
As he gets closer, he grits out through clenched teeth, “Tell me I didn’t just fucking see you flirting with that douchebag.”
I whirl to go back into my office, not wanting to admit that I was. And definitely not willing to explain why. But Jesse follows me . . . or rather, he stops me.
His rough hand wraps around my upper arm and in one smooth move, he has my back pressed against my office door and is crowded into my space just as close as Oliver had been. But it feels entirely different with Jesse. He feels big and dangerous, not because he’d ever hurt me physically, but because my whole body is alight with need, straining to get closer to him on a molecular level.
“Jesse . . .”
“Tell me, Wren. Please fucking tell me what the hell is going on in that beautiful, brilliant mind of yours. You have to know what kind of guy he is.” He thrusts a finger harshly, pointing down the hall where Oliver disappeared. “And that he’ll leave as soon as this case is over.”
That sends me from needy to pissed in 0.04 seconds. I dig the point of my nail into his chest, knowing full well that it drives him crazy. Deep down, that’s probably why I do it—to punish him.
For not calling.
For not being ready for more.
For not wanting . . . me.
“And that’s exactly none of your business,” I snarl, planting both hands on his chest to shove him away.
It’s like pushing a brick wall. For a full second, he doesn’t budge, only moving aside at his choice. Hurt flashes through his eyes, and I wonder if I was too cruel, but it’s the truth. It’s not Jesse’s business what I’m doing, or who I’m doing it with. He chose for it to be that way.
“Are you serious?” Incredulous, Jesse throws his hands out, as if he’s the wronged party here.
I might be nearly a foot shorter than he is, but I stare him down with cold eyes that hopefully hide all the thoughts and feelings threatening to let me fall under Jesse’s spell again. “Completely.”
He huffs and clips out, “Whatever, have it your way.”
With that, he stomps down the hallway. I bite my tongue to keep from calling him back to explain, but my need to have the last word surges. “That’s right. You can call me Burger Queen, I’ll have it my way, however I want it.”
I see his shoulders go tight with tension, but he doesn’t slow. I’m still standing in my doorway, staring at the empty hall, when Joanne peeks around the corner. “You good, Wren?”
Great, just what I need—another tale on the gossip grapevine.
“Fine. Thanks.”
I slam my door shut behind me so she doesn’t ask anything else, and lean up against it. My breath is too fast, near panting.
What just happened? With Oliver and with Jesse?
And then a moment later . . . Oh yeah, and what the hell is Aunt Chrissy thinking?
Chapter 8
JESSE
I should’ve known better. I was in town to file permits on the few houses we’re starting later this week, and thought I’d stop in to see Wren. I was hoping she’d be pleasantly surprised to see me, maybe blush a little and smile. If things went well, I thought I’d ask her out. As much time as we used to spend together, we’ve never done that.