Page 32 of Mr. Fixer Upper
He grinned. “I’m glad I met you, Paige.”
“I’m glad you did, too.”
She felt a frisson of heat spark across her skin and found Gannon at the bar, beer in hand, staring at her.
The song ended, and she and Marcus broke apart. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “I really do have to go. But if you have any time while you’re in town, call me for pie.”
She took the card. “I really don’t get any downtime during shoots, but if I did, I’d be calling you.”
He smiled and offered his hand. “It was great to meet you.”
She took it, enjoying the gentle squeeze. “It was really nice meeting you, Marcus.”
He tapped the card in her hand. “Don’t forget me.”
She watched him leave, a goofy smile on her face.
Marcus’ card was snatched out of her hand. “He’s not your type,” Gannon said, appearing at her side.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Give me that,” she ordered, reaching for the card. “You don’t know what my type is.” She wondered why was it that the scent of Gannon’s deodorant and laundry detergent was so sexy to her.
“Do you?” Gannon countered. “I’ve never seen you date.”
“You only see me four months out of the year,” Paige reminded him.
The band slowed it down again, and Gannon, with the practiced smoothness of a highly skilled ladies’ man, encircled her waist and guided her back onto the dance floor. His palms burned into her skin through the thin layer of her silky shirt. She didn’t feel protected anymore. Not with Gannon pulling her in too close. He wasn’t interested in keeping a friendly space between them. He wanted to feel her body against his, and the part of Paige’s brain that didn’t give a damn about consequences agreed.
She put her hands on his shoulders in part not to cause a scene and to also control the infinitesimal space between them.
“Your hair smells like piña coladas,” Gannon said, his voice raspy in her ear.
“This isn’t a good idea with everything that’s happened this week,” Paige warned. He was so tall and broad, she couldn’t see the rest of the dance floor behind him. He’d skillfully led her to the darkest corner, and she’d gone along unknowingly or worse, willingly.
“Sometimes bad ideas are the best ideas.”
“Why did you take Marcus’s card?” Paige asked suddenly.
Gannon’s lips quirked. “Because I’m interested.”
“In Marcus?”
“In you, Paige. I’m interested in you.”
“I’m not interested in being interested in you,” she said, feeling panic slick through her stomach.
“That’s different from not being interested,” Gannon observed.
She didn’t know how to respond to that. She could tell him she wasn’t interested, but Paige got the distinct impression he’d call bullshit on her. For someone who hadn’t known her long, he’d figured her out quickly.
“You’re not boyfriend material.”
“I’m not?”
Paige shook her head. “You’re a fixer upper. I don’t have the time to take on a project man right now.”
When he simply squeezed her harder, she sighed.
