Page 81 of Words We Didn't Say

“I know.”

“Do you?” He cocked his head. “What time did you leave work last night?”

My jaw clenched. Seven o’clock. Eden and I had enjoyed another re-date night trying out a new restaurant. Then, I’d worked from home until I fell asleep at the kitchen table around two in the morning. I was pulling my weight. I was pulling a lot of people’s weight.

“My billings are lower, but they’re still the best in the firm.” I wasn’t rattled. My voice stayed strong. Facts were facts. “It’s not like two years ago.”

Chris sighed. “Zach, I’m just looking out for you. Trust me. Don’t risk your future on a piece of arse.” Blue eyes roamed the gallery to where Eden laughed at the bar. He muttered, “No matter how luscious the arse may be.”

The final straw snapped.

I clenched my fist but forced a deep breath to stop myself from punching him in the damn mouth. Blood pounded in my ears, fury burning so hot my vision turned red.

Who thehelldoes he think he is?

My mentor. The man who’d given me a career. The best in the business. But also, the man whose eyes wandered to almost everyone except the woman he’d promised his life to, lingering longest of all on the woman who I wanted to promise mine. Complicated feelings warred inside me, but the battle didn’t last long.

“Sir,” I said, the word an effort to bite out. “While I have the greatest respect for you, don’t think for one second you won’t find yourself on the other end of my fist if you ever talk about Eden like this again.”

“Zach—”

“Not only does Eden deserve better, but so does your fiancée.” I jerked a nod. “I hope you and Lola have a pleasant evening.”

Chris Stone may have taught me everything about being a lawyer, but he knew shit all about acting like a decent human being.

Screw his networking event.

It was time to get my girl and go home.

22

She said, “I was too scared to ask you to stay.”

Eden

I’ve never been sojealous of an ice cream cone.

The roar of the roller coaster spiralling overhead and the excited squeals erupting from Luna Park faded into the background. Nothing existed but Zach’s mouth. He clutched a chocolate ice cream cone, and his tongue darted out for a lick, stalled, hovering midair as he turned a wary look sideways.

His brows lifted over the top of his glasses. “You sure you don’t want to swap?” It was the third time he’d offered.

I stared helplessly at the melting orange mess in my own hand. “But you don’t like mango.”

“And obviously, neither do you. That thing is miserable. Come on.” Zach hoisted the pink sequinned dolphin he’d won for me at the ring toss under his arm and offered his empty hand. “Swap.”

No one was stupid enough to pass up a deal like that.

Excited, bouncing on the spot, I shoved my mango ice cream at him and greedily grabbed for his. Zach laughed—an easy kind of laugh that was getting rarer for him the closer we crept to his firm’s big announcement.

Lowering my lashes, I curled my tongue around the melting chocolate.“Mmm.”

Innocently, I glanced up. Zach stood there, frozen, mango ice cream dribbling down the cone to his hand. His gaze locked on the swirl of my tongue. What was going on behind his dark, dark eyes? Dirty thoughts? I certainly hoped so.

“You like licking the ice cream, sweetheart?” His voice was gruff.

Oh yes, he was thinkingverynaughty thoughts.

“Uh-huh,” I said. My next lick was positively obscene.

---