Page 43 of Until Then

He holds up a plate. “What do you want on your burger?”

“Oh.” I contemplate the spread of condiments set up on the foldable table beside the grill. “I can do that.” Stepping closer, I reach for the plate, but he holds it out of my reach.

“I got it.”

“Um, all right.” I bite my lip. “Cheddar cheese.” I point and he adds it to my bun. “Onion, pickles, mayo, and mustard.”

He adds the toppings and assembles my burger. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking the plate.

Our fingers brush as he releases it, causing a shiver to skate up my spine.

He frowns in confusion, his head tilted. “Are you cold?”

“No.” With that, I scurry away, head lowered.

Twenty-seven. You are twenty-seven years old. You’re on the cusp of thirty. Why are you acting like a nervous, flighty teenager?

I want to crawl into a hole and hide away.

Instead, I force myself to return to my seat. Maura raises a brow at my plate as I get settled, then looks at Derrick, shaking her head in amusement. “He might not realize it yet, but he’s into you.”

I take a bite so large there’s no chance that I can respond. I stick with a shake of my head instead.

Maura gives me a knowing look. “We’ll see.”

12

DERRICK

Izzy spinsaway from the computer, shoving her glasses into her hair as she goes.

“You know”—she drawls, crossing her legs, which makes her skirt inch higher up her thigh—“it was my understanding that you spent most of your time out in the field, yet since I started, you’ve been sitting at that desk day in and day out.”

“I … well…”

She bites her lip, but her grin is too big to hide. “It’s like you don’t trust me to handle this job. It’s been almost two weeks. Have I not proven myself competent yet?”

She certainly has. She might even be better than Jessica—not that I’d ever tell either one of them that.

“I’ve got things to handle here right now,” I lie, brushing my fingers over my lips. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“Mhm,” she hums, that dangerous smile still large. She spins the chair again in a circle and stops when she’s facing me. “We should go on a field trip.”

“A field trip?” Confusion drips from my words.

“Yeah, to one of your projects. Let me put on a hard hat and some work boots and get dirty.” She winks, the gesture pure sass.

I’d like to get her dirty in a different way. Maybe by shoving her over the desk and yanking up her skirt. I’d slide her underwear to the side, see if she was wet and?—

My stomach drops.What the fuck are you doing thinking about her like that?

It’s a terrible idea, but I still find myself saying, “You really want to see a jobsite?”

“Absolutely.” She nods, her smile less calculating and more genuine. “I’d love to know what all these phone calls and emails result in.”

Doing my best to shove my previous thoughts away, I shut off my computer and stand. “All right, come on.”

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