Page 34 of Fighting Gravity

The heat in his eyes jumped to her own skin. Rosie sucked in a breath seconds before their bodies clashed. Tate didn’t kiss like a nice guy. He kissed like a dark god intent on awakening. On addiction.

There was the way her body moved through the world before Tate, and there was after. Rosie knew which she preferred.

19

Tate set a cup of tea in front of Quinn with athunk.

She jumped and glared at him over her iPad.

He chuckled. “I’ve been in the kitchen for fifteen minutes. Not my fault you were in another world.”

Quinn snapped the tablet shut and slid the steaming mug closer. “I was scanning the French and British tabloids and checking Google alerts on the family. Nothing scandalous so far today.” She blew into the cup, scattering steam. “What are you grinning about, besides the obvious?”

“Homelessness,” he answered.

“Pardon?”

“That new charitable venture you were looking for? Rosie has designed a modular housing prototype for the homeless. We’re going to finance her project.”

Rosie mentioning Seattle had planted the idea. Seattle had a dire homeless problem, and Tate happened to have a home base near there. A vision had sprung into his mind, a way to show her how much he cared.

Rosie had feelings for him, too. Complex and varying, based on her back-and-forth behavior. Still, Tate believed they had a chance. He just had to convince her they were worth the risk. And he really needed to get his hands on those housing plans.

Tate approached Luz, his assistant, the next morning. She was at her desk before eight, hair twisted in a severe bun, typing away. She was the prim, high-strung version of her younger sister, Maria, Tate’s housekeeper. He’d found Luz crying one day, a shock given her unflappable demeanor, when she’d told him about the financial troubles of her sister. Now both women were in his employ.

“Luz, can you get Rosie Flynn’s admin on the phone today?” He leaned over the reception desk and dropped his voice. “This is going to sound strange. Instead of making a meeting, I want to know when she’ll be out of the office.”

He hoped she didn’t ask too many questions. Tate was positive Rosie wouldn’t want OrbitAll or Abode knowing they were seeing each other.

Luz’s lips formed a tight circle. “Why?”

“I’m going to surprise her, but I need her out of the office in order to do so.”

He felt the curiosity in her calculating gaze. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

Thirty minutes later, Luz popped into his office smiling.

“Miss Flynn will be out for a meeting with San Diego County tomorrow from eleven to one.”

Tate smiled. “Perfect.”

“You have a Representation in Aerospace board meeting in Van Nuys at nine,” she reminded him.

Not so perfect. That timing might cut it close, depending on the agenda and Gloria’s mood. “Thanks, Luz. Please let Theodore know I’ll need the jet all day tomorrow.”

Tate dressed to impress the next day. Not for himself, but for Rosie’s administrative assistant. If she was as loyal as Luz, she might need some convincing of Tate’s intentions. He wasn’t above using his looks if it helped make Rosie happy, even in circuitous ways.

He chose a snug black sweater that showed the tan skin of his neck and collarbones. He shoved the sleeves up and slipped into black slacks and black driving shoes with red stitching. He wanted to look less like he was there for business and more like he was there for Rosie.

He vibrated with impatience through the RIA board meeting. More than once, Gloria snapped at him for inattention. He gave a deep sigh of relief as he climbed back into the jet bound for San Diego. They touched down less than an hour later and he ordered a ride to Abode, which was located on the fringes of Balboa Park. It was nearing eleven thirty, so the timing had worked after all.

Driving through town, he was reminded how much he liked San Diego. It was a big city that felt small. The seaside town would not be a bad place to spend time if he and Rosie ever became official.

Tate had always been content with his life. He’d never had much to complain about, even with absentee parents and metric tons of responsibility. He’d never known differently. He’d accepted the “legacy over love” attitude. Now, though, with Rosie, he had complaints. He wanted what they’d shared over the weekend all the time. One weekend with her wasn’t enough.

Abode’s office was compact and bright. Custom art and funky chairs and a shelf of design books filled the small reception area. A handful of people were hard at work to the left of reception. The workstation closest held a woman sitting crisscross in a task chair, hair styled like Rey fromStar Wars, bopping her head to a beat. The desk next to hers, flanking the window, had a red coat hanging over the chair that Tate recognized as Rosie’s.

“How can I help you?”

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