Page 58 of Flirty Thirty

I’m on the verge of a relapse, and I think I’ll fall face-first off the wagon into his lips if our professional relationship goes on much longer.

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We’re standing outside a beaten-down mansion that—while still bigger than my house and my neighbor’s combined—is completely falling apart. The previous owner’s must’ve taken a bat to the walls when the bank foreclosed, and there are wires hanging out everywhere, a floor missing in one of the bathrooms, and the basement is about ten percent finished while the other ninety is covered in spray paint.

“Thoughts?” Cooper asks as he turns to stare back at it with an interesting look on his face.

I take in a big ol’ breath and hold it, trying my best to figure out what angle he’s playing from. “You still manage to surprise me.”

His lips pull up in an adorable grin, and he crosses his arms. “Well, maybe you have a point about building from the ground up.”

“You want to tear it down? Build on top of it?”

He shakes his head. “I was thinking more like… marrying the two ideas.” He waves his arm out at the dilapidated house. “I’ve got the foundation, great floor plan, and sweet view. Just needs a little bit of spit shine.”

“A lot a bit,” I say with a laugh, but it has a weird aftertaste on my tongue, like I shouldn’t be allowed to laugh with him anymore.

I can feel his gaze on me, the air between us growing thick and painful. I purse my lips together, begging my words to stay professional, my hands to keep to themselves.

“I miss you,” he says, and I wish it sounded out of the blue. I wish it didn’t make me miss not just him, but how he says however he feels whenever he feels it.

He lets out a breathless laugh, and I meet his gaze with a furrowed brow.

“Well, I made it twenty-seven days without letting that slip out,” he says, and my heart flutters at the fact that he’s counting, too.

“A record for you.”

His hand twitches next to mine. “Gah, woman. Don’t do that. Don’t be sexy and witty or I’ll get on my knees and beg you to reconsider.”

“Your definition of sexy is very skewed.”

He tosses his head back and growls at the sky. “There you go again.”

I can’t look at him anymore. I swear if I see those blue eyes and that gorgeous soul then I will crumble and fall into his arms and never leave the safety of them. I keep my eyes fixed on the house and my thoughts on how sensible I’m being, even if my body is telling me I’m anything but sensible.

“Maya…”

“Don’t talk,” I blurt out, slamming my eyes shut and taking a deep breath. “Don’t be so forward and blunt and charming or it’ll be just that much harder for me to walk away from you again.” I turn to him, watch the surprise swirling around in his irises morph into dwindling self-restraint. “I’m a professional, damn it,” I say, my words strong, but the power behind them that of a baby mouse. “I’m just helping you buy a house.”

He steps in front of me. “True.”

“Our little detour into almost a relationship will just be a fun story we tell over future dinner dates with the people we’re meant to be with.”

He winces like I’ve slapped him, but quickly shakes it off and takes another step into me. His eyes drop to my lips, and I know he wants to kiss my babbling away… andIwant him to want that enough to do it. My fingers twitch at my sides, and my voice carries off into a whisper as I try again to convince him that I did the right thing.

“I’m only your realtor. I’m going to sell you this house and then you won’t think about me again.”

His hand snakes up between us, his thumb brushing over my chin and his eyebrows pulling down. “If you think I could forget you so easily, you’re crazier than I thought.”

I let out a shaky breath between us. “Don’t kiss me.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.”

“What if I don’t care?”

My lips purse together, my heart beating to the rhythm of the most romantic and heartbreaking song in history. I shake my head, unable to form words because the truth is, right now, I don’t care either.

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