Page 53 of The Fix Up

The shirt still smelled like his aftershave, and Holly resisted the urge to hold it up to her nose and breathe in his scent before pulling it over her head. Her whole body did a happy little swoon at the memory of what she’d been doing the last time she’d worn this top.

Outfitted in her comfy attire, she wandered into the kitchen, her mind still drifting to Ben’s presentation. Had her speech coaching tips made a difference for him in the presentation? She hoped she’d managed to impart at least a few helpful hints before getting derailed by chemistry or lust or whatever the hell kept seizing control of her brain and making her do crazy things.

God, why was she taking so many risks lately? Langley Enterprises was a huge client—the biggest First Impressions had ever landed. Between Ben’s rebranding work and the potential for more Langley business, this was her best shot at earning enough to refinance the loan. She was chancing a lot by fooling around with Ben. Jeopardizing her whole career for what?

For a man. You swore you’d never do that.

Holly sighed and yanked open her freezer door, determined to drown her sorrows in something sinfully sweet. She spotted a gallon of vanilla ice cream and thought about the ice cream floats Ben had made the other night.

“Bingo!” she said aloud as she pulled open the fridge to find a liter of strawberry seltzer Miriam had left behind. It wasn’t root beer, but it would do.

She set about making herself a float, wondering what Ben was up to. Was he celebrating? The thought of a celebration that included scantily clad women throwing themselves at a powerful man was enough to deepen her glum mood, so she put an extra big scoop of ice cream in her float.

She’d just shoved the ice cream back in the freezer when her phone rang. She picked it up with the ice cream scoop still clutched in her other hand. “Hello?”

“Hey, Holly. It’s Ben. Open your front door.”

A shudder of excitement ran through her, followed by a shudder of dread. She probably looked like she was having a seizure, which was hardly the condition she wanted to be in for having company. Besides, she was wearing the loungewear he’d bought her. The last thing she needed was Ben thinking she’d been pining away for him in her pajamas.

Then she imagined him standing there on her front porch, and her brain started to cloud with the thrill of spending an evening with him. “You’re here?"

Her body was already moving toward the front of the house in defiance of her brain’s warning that it wasn’t a good idea. She had the ice cream scoop clutched in one hand and a stupid grin on her face, which she spotted in the mirror on her way to the door.

“I’m not at the door but something else is,” Ben said.

Holly stopped at the door, her hand on the knob. “Okay, this is starting to sound slightly creepy stalkery.”

“I thought you liked creepy stalkery. At least you did when I bought you pajamas.”

“That’s true.” She hesitated, her hand still on the door. “Apparently I’m turned on by creepy stalkers and dirty-talking science geeks. How did I never know this about myself until I hit thirty?”

“You’re thirty?”

“Yes, why?”

“That’s what my dad thought.”

“Why was your dad guessing my age? Never mind, how old are you?”

“Thirty-one. Did you open your door yet?”

“Hang on.” Holly set the ice cream scoop on the entry table and cracked open her front door. Sitting on the front stoop in the beam of her porch light was the biggest arrangement of wildflowers she’d ever seen.

“Ben, they’re beautiful!” Cradling the phone against her ear, she bent down to scoop up the basket. “Oh my God, did you bring these?”

“I had them delivered.”

“They’re gorgeous.” She carried the basket into the house, kicking the door shut behind her. “Thank you.”

“No, thankyou. Without your coaching, I never could have nailed that presentation today.”

“I was just doing what you hired me to do.”

“You did a little more than that.”

Holly winced as she set the basket on the table, but before she could say anything about the fact that she didn’t usually suck off clients in her boardroom, Ben beat her to it.

“No—uh, I didn’t mean that. Well,thatwas nice, too, but it’s not what I’m talking about. You really lit a fire under me.”

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