Page 44 of Making It While Faking It
He’s silent and towering over me like a protective wall. Expectation hangs in the air. Releasing a shuddering breath, I don’t break eye contact, constraining the urge to kiss him.
Then he takes a step back, and I immediately feel the effect of his distance, and he says, “You’re welcome.”
The rideback to Achilles’s penthouse teems with sexual tension. At least on my part. Maybe it’s just me who’s sexually drawn to him and not the other way around which is a good thing. If I assume the lust is a one-way street, I won’t lose my head and do something stupid like throw myself at him. But goodness gracious, he ripples with sex appeal. I can still picture his arm and thigh muscles flexing when he reached high up to drill. Having someone like Achilles nearby is shaping up to be quite useful, even if the circumstances that brought us together suck. I must never forget that I need to get out of this contract as soon as possible. Sex will only make me lose focus, and I can’t lose focus.
“Thank you,” I say, my brain void of a more creative response.
“You’ve already thanked me,” he replies. I’ve come to learn that the barely visible lift of the corner of his mouth is indeed some sort of smile that just might be flirtatious.
I drop my face to chuckle bashfully. I don’t want us to stop talking because sitting in silence feels like a low form of emotional torture. When I look up, our eyes meet. “And you and Danny worked so fast. I would still be there trying to figure out how to work the drill.”
His eyebrows flash up in response, but his lips betray no emotion.
“You should have security shutters installed. I know someone,” he finally says.
I screw up one side of my face thoughtfully as the dollar signs flash in my head. “I don’t know. It’s another expense.”
He throws up a hand as if to say,Stop worrying. “I’ll handle it,” he says. “Also, your doors should have a security system built into the locks. That way, you’ll know who comes in after you’ve closed.”
I sigh as I see more dollar signs. “You’re right, of course. And no worries, I’ll pay for it all.” I’ll just use funds from my personal account.
“It’s no problem, Treasure. I understand that you’re saving because you have bigger plans.” The right corner of his mouth plays with that flirtatious smile again. Although, I think he’s half teasing and half calling me out.
Drawing air in slowly through my nostrils, I gnaw restlessly on my bottom lip. He’s done so much for me lately that I would feel like an awful, entitled user if I didn’t explain. “About my opportunity to nullify our contract…”
His eyebrows are up. He’s listening, waiting to hear whatever I’m going to say.
“It’s not you. Well…” I scrunch my nose and mouth in a finicky manner. “Not anymore. I mean, not since you boarded my restaurant’s windows and fed me electrolytes at my lowest moment.” I grace him with a full-fledged smile.
I watch my joke land as Achilles smiles.
Good. Now that he’s all softened up, I can admit the truth. “It’s my dad and uncle. To them, it’s almost as if nothing’s off-limits when it comes to succeeding in the name of getting ahead in business.” I sigh. I can’t say what I really feel about them to Achilles. After all, I got the sense that even though we have this contract between our families, there isn’t a true cease-fire between the Lords and Groves. “I just don’t understand why you’ve agreed to do this deal.”
He narrows an eye thoughtfully. “You don’t understand the agreement between us.”
“Not really.” But I raise my hands, palms toward him. “But I don’t want to understand it. I needed the money, Achilles. I was on the verge of losing my restaurant.” All those icky feelings of failure come rushing back into me. “And even now, I’m losing a lot more money than I’m profiting. This will all be over before I’m able to pay the trust back. So you can stop worrying about me leaving you and my family in the lurch.”
His lips part slightly as if he wants to say something. Then the car stops in front of a metal garage door that rolls up. The drama of driving inside, our wheels getting situated on a lift, and the lift hoisting us up to the building rudely steals my attention. My stomach drops a smidgen, and I press my hand against my belly.
“You don’t trust your father?” he finally asks.
I’m taken aback by his question. I should think more before I answer, but my defenses are down. I really don’t like the way it feels to be lifted high off the ground in a car. It just feels so wrong, like a human invention that’s gone too far.
“Huh?” I ask, staring at the wall beyond the window.
“Treasure, relax, you’re fine.”
I shake my head. “Why do you need all of this shit? What’s wrong with a nice cottage near a lake? I also wonder how healthy it is to live seventy-eight stories above Earth’s gravitational pull.”
And just like that, he reaches out to gently rub my thigh. His touch is not sexual. It’s soothing and comforting. “You’ll be fine.”
Finally, the car comes to a stop, and I relax a bit.
“You’ve never lived in a high-rise?” he asks.
“Never,” I ardently claim. “I never felt safe residing in any space that’s beyond the third floor.”
The garage door rolls up, and when light floods the car, it’s as if Achilles comes to, and he quickly takes his hand off my thigh.
