Page 11 of How to Resist Prince Charming

Braxton’s brows scrunched together. “Well... yeah.”

He’d only been at Farris three weeks. What exactly did she think he’d been doing in the past two years since he’d graduated from college?

Her blush deepened as if she’d just realized her faux pas. “I’m sorry,” she quickly apologized, lifting her hands as if to wave away her mistake. “It’s just that my dad...I mean...It’s nothing. I’m really sorry.”

Jesus, Tom must’ve been complaining about his dear boss at home too, to his entire family.

Clearing his throat, Braxton said, “Well, I’m sure the way your dad tells it, my father yanked me straight from the cradle and plopped me in the president’s seat.”

Lenna lowered her eyes and watched her fingers fidget.

He winced. Shit. He shouldn’t have said that.

Her father was not up for discussion. Why did he keep bringing Tom up?

There was no way she’d touch him again now.

“Actually,” he said, once again trying a new track in the vain hope of keeping the conversation afloat, “I’m kind of an IT computer geek.” Oh, yeah, that really made him out to be the ultimate alpha male. God. “The only reason I got a BBA was so I could major in Computer Science for a systems programming degree.” There, that sounded marginally better. Not.

She lifted her eyes. When he saw the interested expression on her face, a knot loosened in his chest.

“So, what did you do before you, ah, came to Farris?”

“Well...” he drew out, taking in a long breath before he started. “It took me over a year after I graduated to find the job I wanted.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit with excitement. Then her shoulders relaxed and she set a hand over her heart. “A whole year? That makes me feel so much better.”

Braxton paused and gave her an odd smile. “Just a guess here, but are you having trouble finding a job?”

“It’s been seven months!” she growled.

Unable to stop himself, Braxton grinned. “What was your major?”

“Communications. With an emphasis in Public Relations.”

“Ah,” he murmured. “That would explain your eloquent speech.”

Lenna wrinkled her nose. He wanted to close his eyes and slap a hand to his forehead for such a lame observation.

“Umm. Thanks,” she finally answered.

“So,” he said, more than ready to move past his mortifying comment. “What exactly do you want to do with your communications degree?”

“That’s the problem.” She leaned closer to confess, teasing him out of his mind with the light scent of vanilla. Man, oh man, did she smell good.

“I have no idea what I really want to do.”

He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to lean toward her and press his mouth to that stray hair curling down her neck. It was still driving him nuts. Taking his eyes off the lock, he glanced out at the crowd of dancers, desperately trying to hold himself together.

“Well, there’s any number of things you can do with that degree,” he heard himself say. “Maybe you could be the spokesperson for a corporation.”

Yeah, he could see her making a good public relations person. She was attractive, polite, well-spoken...But when she grimaced at the idea, he laughed. “Or maybe not.”

“Actually, I’ve thought about that. But...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what I do want. I just know what I don’t want.” She glanced at him, uncertain. “Does that make any sense?”

Damn, he wanted to kiss her.

But he stuck to the conversation at hand like a good boy. “It makes perfect sense.” She looked so confused and lost, he found himself itching to cover her hand and give it a supportive squeeze. “Just don’t leap into some career that isn’t what you want merely because it’s taking you too long to decide, okay?”

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