Page 44 of Rival Hearts

I didn’t want Grady to know the Sabrina debacle had driven a stake through my heart. Going to this meeting with him, alone, was the only way to prove to him and to myself that I could control my feelings. This roller-coaster ride was coming to an end; I was throwing on the brakes.

In the doorway of the conference room, he cleared his throat. I looked up from the papers spread out in front of me, startled out of my thoughts. He was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt, andI could imagine the buttery slide of the gray material under my fingers if I were to run my hands down his chest.

No butter. No sliding. No fingers.I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him.

He’d been in the doorway for thirty seconds, and I was already fighting the urge to climb aboard the coaster to ride it one more time.

Why couldn’t he be repulsive? Or be one of those people who I could admit was attractive without wanting to explore the package under his clothes? That’s what I needed—objective indifference. Grady was attractive, with his messy brown hair, dark-brown eyes, and tan skin, but I wasn’t attracted to him. Well-sculpted muscles were a great asset for a man to have. Objectively speaking, it meant he took care of his body. I could admire that without admiring him. There. Easy.

“Are you ready for me?”

My heart dropped into my feet at his words. “Oh, uh—” I stumbled around, shuffling the papers, not seeing anything. Heat climbed into my face. This was a disaster. I was a disaster. “Sorry, I’m—”

He came around the conference table, his shoulder brushing mine, and helped me sort the papers. They’d been in order, but in my fluster, I’d messed them up. So stupid.

“You okay?” Grady checked page numbers and headers without looking at me.

My hands stilled on the table. “I’m sorry I overreacted about Sabrina.” Those words hadn’t been what I’d planned to say to him. I’d intended to ignore the whole thing, pretend it hadn’t happened.

“Thanks for leaving Mike out of it.” He ran a hand through his hair.

When I snuck a glance at him, he tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, tenderness in his gaze. The touch was sointimate, so unexpected, it caused warmth to pool in places it shouldn’t. He’d done something similar to me before, but it was his lack of hesitation which surprised me, as though he had a right to touch me. My body hummed in anticipation.

“I feel like I should explain what was going on—”

I shook my head and grabbed more papers. “No. You don’t owe me any explanation. We’re rivals for the mayoral race, and we’re working together to help the town, to help Trent. That’s it.” My heart thumped in my chest, betraying how much I wished he’d explain. Did it mean he hadn’t slept with her? Why was she there so early if that was the case? The objectivity I’d been clinging to before he stepped in the door was beating against the windows, threatening to fly out of the room. More than anything, I wanted Sabrina to be a misunderstanding.

He tried to catch my gaze, but I sidestepped him and turned on the projector to go through my PowerPoint presentation. As soon as he realized what I was doing, he lowered himself into a chair and started chuckling.

“You’re going to present to me?” He crossed his arms over his toned middle, and I averted my gaze.

“It seemed like the easiest way to get you up to speed on what the night will look like.”

“Whatever you think. I’m your captive audience.”

I clicked through the slides, explaining what everyone else had been able to accomplish in the last four weeks. The material was dry, and I was fairly certain he didn’t care, but it created some distance between us, which made me more comfortable.

At the end, he clapped. “That’s great. Really great, Maggie. You’ve thought of everything—even better than some of the concert organizers I’ve worked with professionally.”

Pride spread through me at his words. I couldn’t hold back my grin as I tucked my hair behind my ears. “Really? Thatmeans a lot, actually. It’s been a huge project to undertake, and sometimes I’ve wondered why I agreed to do this for Trent...”

He held up his finger. “There’s just one thing.”

I raised my eyebrows. What had I forgotten?

“I feel like some parts of the night might need a demonstration for me to appreciate the full impact.” He stared at me expectantly, a small smirk on his face.

I frowned and then his implication clicked. “I’m not stripping for you.”

“It would really liven up your presentation. Give it some authenticity.”

“The only person I’m giving it to is you.”

Our eyes connected, and my breath caught. Why was it always like this with him? My pulse quickened, and a flush rose to my cheeks.

He wanted me to strip for him. His desire should horrify me, but it didn’t, not even close. What would he do if I did it?

“I’d watch the whole thing again, if you wanted to go for a different tactic. A small sample of what I could expect on the night as if you were one of the male performers.” His voice rumbled through the room, husky with undisguised need.

---