Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
“Huh?” She blinks muzzily. I break away a split second before she realizes I’m up in her space. “Oh, thanks. Thank you, Burns.”
She climbs out behind me while I walk around to the trunk.
I’m damned glad she accepted the ride now.
A proper late spring rain that smells like the sea pelts my shoulders. It’s one of the steadier, long lasting night rains that blankets this city when it can’t make up its mind if it wants to be summer just yet.
I watch Miss Poe walk to the entrance of the apartment building before I start moving, rolling the bike behind her.
“Where does this go?”
She points to a bike rack stacked against the old building.
“Do you have a lock?” I ask. Please tell me you’ve got a lock.
She nods, pulling a lock out of her purse.
I secure the bike to the rack and then walk her to the main entrance.
“I can take it from here, bossman. You didn’t have to escort me to the door,” she says softly.
Rain beads on her brow, spattering around us like a curtain of white noise.
For just a moment, we’re in our own silent world of wandering tongues that don’t quite work.
“No trouble. You’re a heavy napper and I don’t want you slipping and falling out here. No judging,” I growl, instinctively taking her hand.
You’re also cute as hell when you’re asleep, I don’t add.
Her lips turn up in a smile. Those big green emeralds stare into my eyes, glinting with too many questions.
She tilts her chin up, staring at me like I’ve turned into someone else.
I don’t realize I’m inching closer until my neck is very obviously craned.
Her lush lips are so close to mine I can smell her like never before.
Soft perfume. Fragrant. Cream and honey mingled with something like—mint?
Goddamn.
Dakota Poe would smell like peppermint when she’s always boldly invaded my world.
I lean in a bit more, smelling her and possibly looking like a freak. I’m past caring.
Only, a harsh warning in the back of my head rears up.
Employee. Off-limits. Idiot.
I snap backward so fast I rock on one foot.
“Whoa, are you okay?” she asks, blinking like she’s still coming out of a dream.
“It’s slick as hell out here,” I lie through my teeth. “Good night, Nevermore. See you around.”
Without a glance back, I’m in full retreat like a coyote denied its prey, head down and slipping away empty-handed. Or to keep the coyote analogy, empty mouthed.
Fucking hell.
That didn’t just happen, did it?
Too close. I came way too close to falling on my ass—and I don’t mean my sudden pathetic balancing act.
I almost kissed the only woman who’s eternally unkissable.
I almost lit a match with my tongue and demolished our lives.
I can’t help a quick look back before I climb in the car. I’m not expecting to see her there, perched under the faint orange light and staring after me.
Glaring, actually, before she whips around to face the door, waves a key card, and disappears inside without another glance back.
I just wish I knew why she looked so haunted.
9
Some Unhappy Master (Dakota)
Work is as awkward as you’d expect the next day.
It kind of comes with the territory when Mr. Hyde turns into Dr. Jekyll and almost kisses your face off.
What was that?
The soulful eyes, grounding me in the noisy rain around us.
The storm.
The silence as he gazed through me with an unmistakable hunger.
I’d be a filthy liar if I said I didn’t feel it too.
Against our better reason, against all sanity, we came one breath away from—
God, who knows? I don’t know why I’m surprised. Much less why I’m disappointed.
Isn’t this always what men do when they play the game?
Close in, act nice, steal hearts, make promises, and commit.
No, wait.
They actually lead you on and march you through the slow, heartbreaking realization that they don’t have the balls to deal with the consequences of their own actions.
I’m dealing with something, alright, hunched over these social media posts and trying to work.
Lincoln comes out of his office around noon and heads for my desk. He’s been evasive ever since our brush with human emotions.
“We have a few special projects that need to be done by end of day, Miss Poe. I’ve already sent you a list,” he says neutrally.
I don’t look up until he’s looming over me.
“I’ll look it over as soon as I send this to Anna,” I say quickly.
“Be quick about it—and thanks.” He turns without a lingering look, marches back to his office, and shuts the door with a deafening click.
Dick.
Also, he’s not joking about the extras.
I’m cooped up until almost midnight finishing everything. It’s a cool, clear night, and I don’t even think about his stupid chivalrous crap while I’m biking home.
The next day goes the same way. Fresh mini projects with whiplash turnaround times.
Sigh.
It’s like he’s punishing me for that almost-kiss.