Page 30 of Made for You
“I’m sorry. I would never want to make you feel like I was anything but lightly enamored by your intelligence.”
My mouth dropped open, and warmth spread through me, hot water into a tub that’d gone lukewarm. “Oh. Well, yeah. Smarts are hot.”
He laughed, and a grin lit his entire face and washed away the somber mood that’d struck. “Smarts are indeed hot.” Then his eyes took on this hooded quality, and he glanced at my mouth, swaying toward me. “There you go again.”
“There I go again doing what?” I asked, my words almost a whisper. Something about him looking at me, standing so close, touching me… it’d certainly dimmed my ability to follow his thought process.
“Being gravity, I guess.” With a blink, he dropped his hand from my wrist and stepped back. “And there I go on the whole space, planets thing. Anyway, you’re off, and I’ve got to go get ready, so… great job this week. Have a good night.”
And then, he turned on his heel and walked back toward his house. More than a little stunned by… everything, I sent a feeble “Have a good night!” after him, and then scurried back inside to get my shoes.
I was quiet for the next few minutes as I slipped on my heels and grabbed my purse, completely abandoning the notes I needed to make on the game. My mind buzzed a little, like I’d already had a cocktail on an empty stomach, and I didn’t even bother giving Gram a look as she smirked at me and winked before I left.
Being gravity, I guess.Wow.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot down the street from Craic, I’d miraculously straightened myself out with logic.
As I walked, I tallied up the truth. I liked Bruce. A lot. And nothing I’d seen this week at work had helped that situation, other than continually reminding myself he was my boss.
But truth? He’d only be my boss for a few months. And history had a habit of setting the tone, so the fact that Wilder, the other owner of Saint Security, had married the last person who held my position? Well… it didn’t do much to tamp down thehot for my bossfeelings.
Because yeah. I was. Andhewasn’t helping one bit. The whole thoughtful, concerned thing? The charm? The smile? The rough hands on the skin of my wrist?The words!?
Right now, I needed to fold those piles of feelings into a little cube in my head and leave it there while I went to meet my new friends—or so I hoped. I’d reminded myself dozens of times this week that I could do things differently here. I wasn’t changing who I was, just opening doors that were right in front of me.
It’d felt like every door in my past life had closed, and on this side of things, sliding out of my car in the cool of a mid-September evening in Silverton, I wondered if I’d had more of a hand in closing them than I’d realized.
I’d certainly played a part in the breakup with my boyfriend. I’d only been loosely interested in him as things stood—a pattern I recognized in myself. Probably why the reality of my instant attraction to Bruce paired with my near-immediate like of him as a person had shaken me so much.
And continued to do so.
But what I couldn’t shake was the suspicion that maybe I’d stood by and watched everything else implode—losing touch with friends, pushing a little too much at work, refusing to play the games my boss and his son seemed to expect. Things I’d done on a larger scale as a teen and in my early twenties—cue the adult version. Subtler and without a stint in juvie, I’d kept everything and everyone at arm’s length so effectively that when I lost it all, the only part of me that reallyhurtover it was my pride.
“But I don’t want that.” I said it aloud as I clicked the lock on my keys and pulled my purse higher on my shoulder. I didn’t want to play games, and I sure as heck didn’t want to work so hard for a life I was only just barely interested in.
So… here I was, walking into a bar I’d never been to with plans to meet a woman I’d talked to exactly twice and some ofherfriends, with whom I may or may not actually get along.If loner angry teen Nikki could see me now…
“Hi. Hello. Hey, um, are you by any chance Nikki?”
A petite blond woman waved at me to get my attention, as though her saying my name wouldn’t do the trick. “Uh, yes. Are you one of Catherine’s friends?”
She beamed. “Yes! I am. I’m Dove. Catherine’s running two minutes late, and I think Jo and Elise should be here any second.”
“Nice to meet you, and thanks for flagging me down. Should we go ahead and get a table?” I glanced inside, and from what I could see, the place looked bustling.
“Oh, Kieran has one saved for us, but sure. Let’s go ahead in and get settled.” She tipped her head toward the door, then turned.
I followed, taking in the dark wood exterior and the large glass doors that were open and allowed tables to spill onto the sidewalk. More bistro tables were situated behind a small wrought-iron fence to create the designated space. Inside, a gorgeous, polished wood bar sat in front of a mirrored back wall and shelves of all manner of bottles ranging from simple to wildly ornate and expensive-looking decorated the setup. A dark-haired, dark-eyed man looked up between bodies seated at the bar and lifted his chin to Dove and winked. She grinned, winked back, and moved toward a section of the bar with enough purpose, I figured she knew where she was going.
“So how are you settling in?” Dove asked, bright blue eyes startling me a bit now that I had them in full focus.
“Decently well, I think. Job’s good, and I’m meeting people.” I tipped my head to her, and she grinned. “I came to help my great aunt, who’s like my grandmother, but other than taking out the trash and grabbing groceries after work, I don’t feel like I’ve done much for her.”
The clamor of other revelers clanged around us for a beat, and before we could sit, Catherine arrived.
“Hey! So glad you two found each other. Elise and Jo are almost here.” Catherine’s genuinely pleased smile greeted us.
Dove jumped in after giving Catherine a full-body hug. “Nikki was just telling me she can hardly tell Rosie needs any help.”
