Page 27 of Seal the Deal

I roll my eyes, grabbing a cup. “I just like my coffee strong.”And you in a suit, apparently.

Our fingers brush as I hand him the cup, and the brief contact sends a ripple through me. “I’ll take your word for it,” he says, studying me with those intense hazel eyes. His voice drops just slightly, like it’s meant only for me. “I’ve been waiting for your text.”

My heart kicks into overdrive. “I was meaning to, I just… I’ve just been busy.”Keep it together, Charlotte Renee Andrews.

He tilts his head, smirking like he can see right through me. “Busy, huh? Too busy to text me about brownies?”

I force myself to meet his eyes, even as my pulse hammers. “I’ve been researching ideas. Wanted to make sure I got it right.”

“Is that so?” He sips his coffee, watching me over the rim of the cup. “Well, don’t overthink it. Just tell me what you need.”Why does this feel like we’re no longer talking about brownies?

I nod slowly. “Okay. I will.”

We stand there, the air charged with tension. Then, with a wink that’s equal parts infuriating and charming, he sets his cup down and steps away.

“See you later, Charlie girl,” he says, and walks out.

The way his voice wraps around my name feels like he's looking right into me, like there’s something inside worth revering. I stand there, heart still racing as his words linger.

As I head back to my office, my mind spins. Jake Brooks justcalled me outfor not texting him, while wearing a suit and looking like some kind of ice god. And as much as I plan on killing Zoe for placing that term in my head, I think I enjoyed every minute of it.

***

An hour or so later, I’m up to my eyeballs in report data, still processing everything that happened with Jake earlier, when Marcus strolls into my office. “Hey, Charlotte. Got a minute?”

I glance up, shifting gears. “Sure. What’s up?”

Marcus leans casually against the doorframe, smiling. “Just wanted to chat about the project you’re helping me with. You’ve been doing great work, as always.”

“Thanks,” I say, brushing off the compliment. “What do you need?”

He steps in further, leaning a little too close over my desk. Normally, I’d laugh it off or redirect, but today I’m hyper-aware of how hollow his actions feel. Especially after this morning with Jake.

“Well,” Marcus begins, his tone tipping from professional to something a lot more informal. “I was thinking maybe we could grab lunch sometime? You know, to discuss the project… And get to know each other a bit more.”

Before I can respond, there’s a sharp rap on the open door, and I jump slightly. Jake stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable, but his presence fills the space like a thundercloud rolling in. His gaze flicks to Marcus, then to me. “Am I interrupting?”

Marcus straightens, caught off guard. “Oh, hey, Jake. No, not at all. We were just chatting about grabbing lunch.”

Jake nods once, his face neutral but his posture anything but relaxed. “Charlotte, could I borrow you for a second?”

“Of course,” I say, my pulse picking up speed. Marcus gives me a quick, almost nervous smile before excusing himself. I watch as Jake’s gaze tracks him, holding steady until Marcus is halfway down the corridor. Then he steps into my office and closes the door firmly behind him.

The air shifts instantly. Jake turns, his eyes locking on mine, direct and unrelenting. It sends a shiver down my spine, every single nerve suddenly awake.

He steps closer, and for one idiotic second I think he's going to pull me into his arms. But my eyes refocus on his hand as it moves towards me, and I realize he's holding out a notepad and pen. “I was thinking, you should write down what you need for baking tomorrow. I’ll pick it up.”

I blink, caught off guard. “You don’t have to do that. I can handle it—”

“I want to. Then we can bake together tomorrow afternoon at your place, if that still works for you.”

I nod and reach for the notepad. His fingers brush mine deliberately, and I falter for a moment. “Yeah, that works.”

I jot down the list quickly, focusing on my pen moving across the paper and not the way he’s watching me, or the fact that I’m imagining us baking together in my kitchen. It feels intimate, maybe too soon. But when I glance up at him, the sincerity in his eyes holds me there. Keeps me from pulling back.

I hand him the notepad, and his lips curve into a grin as he scans the list. “Simple enough. Just promise not to be too impressed when I turn out to be a natural in the kitchen.”

I scoff, tilting my head. “Big talk for someone who might just end up covered in flour before we even preheat the oven. But I’ll try to keep my awe in check… if you can keep up.”

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