Page 3 of Chilled and Thrilled

“It’s so nice to meet all of you.” Rebecca smiles around at us, lacing her fingers in front of herself. “Lenora, your father mentioned you’re a dancer? I was also, not a professional obviously, but I hope we can exchange war stories someday.”

God, she seems nice. Of course she is. Bram is probably the nicest guy on the planet, and every single person on it loves him. He wouldn’t date a jerk.

Date.

Bram is dating.

Bram is dating while wearing the sweater I once said brings out his eyes, and suddenly started to see him wear much more often.

His hand was on her back, and he was obviously taking her out to dinner. He was probably going to have sex with her. He was… oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m going to cry. This is the embarrassing drunk story. Right now. I’m living it. The call is coming from inside the house.

When am I going to learn that these kinds of things are good in theory but not in reality?

“Sophie.” Bram’s voice cuts through my spiral, and he steps forward, worry flashing over his handsome features.

“She’s fine,” Honor assures him airily, “just thought she’d keep her liver on its toes tonight. You’re not her boss rightnow, you’re her best friend’s dad, so I’m not obligated to pretend our little Sophie isn’t drunk as a skunk.”

He ignores her, reaching out to curl his hands over my arms, spreading warmth through my whole body as he gazes down at me in concern. “Sophie, are you?—”

Bram doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, though, because I lean over and puke on his shoes.

2

BRAM

I’m really sorry about last night.

It’s fine.

It’s not. I ruined your date. Seriously, Bram, I’m so embarrased.

We don’t have to mention it again.

Are you okay?

Working on it.

I’ve read through that text exchange at least two dozen times since it occurred Saturday morning.

This isn’t ordinary behavior for an adult man speaking to the close friend of his daughter, a woman who is also his employee and half his age. Nor is it typicalfor me to stay up half the night, sick with regret over hurting a woman who has just as little business wanting me as I do wanting her.

If I had any doubts about that—her wanting me—before Friday night, they’re gone now.

The date seemed like a good idea. After all, why wouldn’t I spend the evening with a single, attractive, age-appropriate forensic accountant from Ohio? I’ve been single for over a year, a period that I firmly believed had absolutely nothing to do with the year Sophie Nelson has worked at my firm.

Life gets busy, dry spells happen, and she’s a young, beautiful woman whom I spend eight hours a day in the company of, and who happens to share a great number of my interests. I’m only human. Therefore, it seemed like a reasonable assumption that any inappropriate attraction I’ve experienced toward her could be put down to lack of other options.

Incorrect.

Woefully incorrect.

Now… Now, all I can think about is the look on Sophie’s face when she saw me with Rebecca. Never have I so quickly gone from certain I was doing the right thing, to wracked with guilt and regret. The vomit on my shoes was almost welcome, as it meant I could end the night before it really began.

Rebecca makes sense. Sophie doesn’t. And yet, only one of these women has me counting down the hours until staff arrives at the office Monday morning.

I need to see her.

I need to make sure she’s okay and… That’s it. Ensuring her general well-being is as much as my role in Sophie’s life will allow. She’s been Honor’s best friend since their Freshman year of college. I met her when she was a bright-eyed eighteen-year-old, nervously awaiting her new roommate in the tiny, white-walled dorm room. That was a long time ago. She’s a woman now, but that doesn’t make it right for me to want her.

---