Page 5 of Invisible Scars
“Effie, I had to bring my best friend back from the dead three times over a span of twenty minutes.” Jonah’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Allow me to indulge in the humorous aspect of him stealing a car two months after waking up from a coma to go find the girl he took two bullets for.”
“That’s a very sad thing to indulge in,” I say with a not-quite-there smile of my own.
“True.” Jonah threads his fingers behind his head and leans back, his gaze caressing my body again. “Care to offer an alternative?”
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I roll my eyes with a resigned sigh, my next sentence mumbled to no one in particular. “The brat is strong in this one.”
“Star Wars, huh?” Jonah’s lips tilt into a half-smirk that promises trouble. “You thinking of how much I look like your celebrity crush again, Effie?”
“More like Jar Jar Binks.”
“That’s kind of kinky, but I’m not opposed.” I shoot him a look that makes it clear he’s treading too close to the invisible line we never talk about, but both of us make damn sure never to cross. “What? You willingly walked into my office and struck up a conversation. What did you think was going to happen?”
“Honestly?” I gauge him. “Anadultconversation.”
Jonah quirks an amused eyebrow my way.
“Well, that’s a load of crap.” He leans forward, his arms crossing on the desk inches away from where I’m seated. “Since when have we ever managed to hold an adult conversation for more than ten minutes straight unless it was about work?”
“You really are a brat.” I sigh again and push the Tanner contract closer to him. “Go over the offer and get the security specs together by next Tuesday, Cadet.”
“Lieutenant.”
I lean closer, fighting the smile tugging at my lips. “You have yet to earn your ranks in my book.”
“Yet, huh?” Jonah’s arms uncross, and he places his hand close to mine, our pinkies just barely touching. “What does a guy have to do to climb up Effie Teitelbaum’s…corporate ladder?”
His pinky flexes, supposedly scratching the tabletop, but I know he’s doing it just so our fingers are grazing. It’s a feather-light touch, but it’s enough to send heat searing up my arm and through my body.
“It’s a long list,” I answer, forcing myself to move my hand away. “It involves sushi.”
“I hate sushi.” Jonah wrinkles his nose, then leans even closer with a bratty glint in his eyes and whispers, “Anything I can eat instead?”
“Jonah Peak!” I shove him back, staring at him in what I hope is a scandalized glare as he laughs.
“Now, don’t get all upset, Doll. It isn’t my fault you make it so easy.”
I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind when Isaiah comes rushing in.
“Boardroom. Now.” He barks out the command and turns on his heels.
Jonah and I exchange a bewildered stare before hurrying after him. Even though Isaiah’s the oldest of the four Peak brothers and the co-CEO of Peak Securities, he’s more of the quiet leader type. Barking orders isn’t his thing, so his dramatic entrance warrants a sense of urgency.
Jonah takes a step back when we reach the boardroom door, letting me enter before him —gentleman that the little brat is— and, in a gesture I assume stems from his mind being preoccupied, places a tender palm on the small of my back as I walk past him.
My sharp inhale snaps his attention to me, and he pulls his hand away, offering an apologetic shrug. I make a show of rolling my eyes, pretending this is just part of that game we play where we see who can rile who up the fastest and get under the other’s skin without crossing too many invisible lines.
It’s an acceptable outlet for the mutual attraction we’re both fighting tooth and nail to resist. An attraction we can’t act on because it crosses every professional line out there and would risk something too important for both of us, each for their own reason.
“Damn, what do they feed you Peak boys?” A woman in her mid to late forties with bleached blonde hair plaited into pigtails looks Jonah over in appreciation.
Jonah stills, blinking with a blank stare at the stranger blatantly checking him out, and I snicker, exchanging an amused glance with Micah and Elijah. By the look on their faces, I know they’re thinking what I am—Jonah is going to get teased within an inch of his self-restraint over this.
Isaiah shakes his head before gesturing at the woman. “Joe, this is Candy. She says she has a message from Maddie.”
My amusement simmers away at the change in Jonah. His posture becomes rigid, and his hands clench into fists at his sides, the vein in his neck throbbing. Candy’s eyes grow wide under Jonah’s dark and intent stare, and she secures her green-and-black checkered flannel around the skin-tight top underneath.
“Joe?” I whisper, placing a hand on his arm. His gaze turns to me, and the hardness in his eyes melts away, making room for something soft.
