Okay, fine, seven, including this one. But who was counting?
It wasn’t like they’d be entering new territory.
Except that he wanted to date her.
That was new.
The butterflies in her belly had gone into overdrive and excitement warred with terror.
She wasn’t ready for this. It wasn’t her time. She had a career to build…rebuild, as it were. And then maybe she’d be ready to set her sights on a relationship.
But not yet. Not now. And certainly not with a guy who’d run roughshod all over her perfectly laid plans.
His arm tightened around her waist, but he stood there patiently, letting her think this through as he held her.
It was one night, he said so himself. No need to panic—she could still keep it all under control. One more night with this man wasn’t going to ruin her life.
Really? Hadn’t she thought the same thing a few weeks ago, back when she’d still had a job?
He dipped his head down until his lips were right next to her ear. “One night,” he repeated, his voice little more than a growl.
He wasn’t still asking or waiting for permission. He already knew he’d won.
Jerk.
A surge of fear had her biting her lip. This guy would be the death of her.
“Fine,” she bit out less than graciously. “One night.”
He grinned in triumph but when he opened his mouth to reply, he was cut off by the sound of her buzzer. He narrowed his eyes. “You sure you weren’t waiting for a date?”
She choked on a laugh. She didn’t want to find him amusing, dang it. “You caught me,” she said, patting his arm condescendingly as she moved past him to open the door. “I do have a date…” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she opened the door. “With pizza.”
His soft chuckle behind her had her grinning like a fool when the delivery guy showed up in her doorway, a steaming box in hand.
Next thing she knew, Bryce was at her side, wallet in hand, already thumbing through cash.
“Uh uh,” she said. Flashing the delivery guy a smile as she started to close the door. “I paid for it online, including tip. Dinner is on me.”
He opened his mouth as if to protest but he took one look at her expression and clamped his mouth shut.
In light of the fact that he’d bought a company for her, her paying for pizza wasn’t exactly a coup, but she knew without a doubt that if she didn’t set some ground rules, this guy would try to pay for everything, and that was not okay.
He pressed his lips together in a look of annoyance but then took the pizza box from her hands with a simple, “Thank you.”
She grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“Which way?”
She made an elaborate waving gesture with her hand toward her coffee table. “Please. Follow me to the dining room.”
They shuffled the few feet to her dining room-slash-living room-slash-everything else room and sank down onto the couch to eat.
The seconds ticked by too quickly as they ate and talked, mercifully avoiding all work talk while they ate, and instead talking about everything and nothing.
Why was talking to him so dang easy?
But they couldn’t sit around in her living room all night, even though the thought of talking the night away again was truly tempting.
No. They had a date to go on.
She set her empty plate down beside his and when she leaned back he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged until she was nestled against his side.
Cozy. So stinkin’ cozy. And warm. And content. And…
She resented the new reality that was settling over her with every passing moment.
She liked this. Heck, she liked him. This was not okay. And it couldn’t last.
She had places to be, friends to see, and a man to date and then kick to the curb. Because this—whatever the heck this was that she was feeling—she did not like it.
Her chest felt tight, almost anxious. She liked being with him too much. She liked kissing him way too much. Kisses weren’t supposed to be life-changing events. She hated the way she wanted to stay here on this couch all night long and never move.
She despised the fact that she was actually tempted to skip Yvette’s gallery opening just because he was here. And because he was fun to be around. And because he made her laugh. And because—
Dang it! She hated that the list of reasons she wanted to continue spending time with him was growing. Worst of all, she didn’t like this feeling she had going on right now. It was weird and it was not like her.
It was almost…needy. That was it, she felt needy. Clingy, even. Like she wanted to wrap him up and stick him in her closet and keep him away from every other woman until the end of time.
Not good.
She shoved away from him with a little more force than absolutely necessary, a fact he drove home with his oomph of surprise.
Just look what he was doing to her? She’d never been a violent person until he’d come along.
This was so definitely a mistake.
“We need to get moving if we’re going to get there in time,” she said as she came to stand. “I should finish getting ready.”
She headed over to the mirror on the far wall and reapplied her lipstick.
“You look amazing,” he said.
He was standing right behind her and her gaze met his in the reflection.
“So do you,” she said. And he did. He so did.
Gah! He looked too good. Why did he always have to look so good? The voice in her head whined, but there was nothing she could do about it. She blamed him for these new, weird feelings, just like she blamed him for the loss of her job.
Only, it was hard to stay annoyed with the guy when he was giving her that sexy, lopsided grin—the one that said she was the only woman on the planet and that she was adored.
Oh, sweet temptation, thy name is Bryce Dalton.
“You all right?” he asked.
Ugh. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was sexy as sin, did he really have to be a sweetheart too?
She gave a short nod, knowing full well that her smile was forced and not totally caring.
One night. She just had to get through one night.
And then she’d never see him again.
Yay? How come it felt like this was a lose-lose situation? At what point had this gone from an easy breezy, no-risk, one-off vacation flirtation to a flip-your-life-upside-down complicated relationship?
No, not relationship.
But still, he’d walked back into her life and now everything was totally screwed up. Her perfect career was ruined, her night out with her friends was going to be ruined by trying not to like her date too much, and every fun moment they’d spent together would be tainted in her memory because she was already starting to fret about never seeing him again.
Unless…
No. One did not become successful by saying “screw it” to the plan. Besides, Bryce was everything she did not want in a boyfriend. He was far too controlling, old-fashioned, and alpha for her liking.
She’d already decided what her ideal man would be like and, quite frankly, he was the opposite of Bryce. She cast a quick look back to make sure he was following as she walked out of her apartment.
Except maybe in looks. She’d be totally cool with her long-term dude having Bryce’s looks.
But other than that? No, no, and no. She needed someone who supported her career, someone who didn’t try to intervene in her life. Someone reasonable, who acted sensibly. Not someone who showed up on her doorstep admitting that he’d temporarily lost his mind when he bought out her company just so he could fire her jerk of a boss.
And Todd really was a jerk.
But that was beside the point. It was ludicrous and unwarranted, not to mention unwanted.
Her hypothetical boyfriend would have to know what he wanted, which Bryce clearly did not, as evidenced once again by the fact that he blatantly ad
mitted that buying her company had been a crazy whim.
A whim! She would not date a man who made business decisions—or any other decision, for that matter—on a whim.
Look where whims had gotten her. One impulsive flirtation to pass the time during a work retreat, and look where that had gotten her.
Bryce tossed his suit jacket back on—either he’d never gone back to his hotel to change or he just knew how good he looked in a suit, because he was still wearing that perfectly fitted suit that made him look like a GQ model.
Jerk.
He caught her eye and winked.
Yeah, her dream guy would definitely not wink. He’d be reserved. Staid.
Boring.
No, not boring. But he’d be like her…responsible, driven, maybe even a little ruthless. The hypothetical boyfriend had to respect her friendships and the fact that he wouldn’t always be number one in her life.
Her job, her friends, and her family would all be a priority, just like they were now.
She would not change for any man.
When they reached the lobby, he held the door open for her and she bit back a sigh.
But most especially, she would not change for this man.
* * *
Kat wasn’t sure what she expected to happen when Bryce walked into the gallery, but it wasn’t this.
She watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as he charmed the pants off her friends. Well, they weren’t technically stripping for him, but she had the uncomfortable feeling they would if he asked.
Yvette was beaming at him, and yes, maybe he had just bought one of her pricier works of art, but still, she didn’t have to smile quite so excessively—it would go to his head. Even Caleb, who was straight as straight could be, was fawning over the man like he was a celebrity.
He was not. He was just a guy. A sexy, powerful, amazing-kisser of a guy.
But Caleb, who actually was a celebrity in some circles, seemed to think this guy was the bee’s knees. And sure, maybe Bryce was being pretty funny, and yeah, he knew how to be personable and get people to talk about themselves.
She sighed as she absently stirred her club soda. There was no way she would risk imbibing around this guy. It was hard enough to keep her guard up when she was stone-cold sober.
She narrowed her eyes as she watched Yvette drag the gallery owner over to meet everyone’s new favorite friend. Ugh! This was not going according to plan. She was supposed to be seeing him in all his alpha-male glory. She was supposed to be despising him right about now.
So how the heck was she liking him even more?
She stabbed at an ice cube in her drink with vengeful glee. Die, ice cube, die!
“Are you all right?” Yvette sidled up next to her, having left Bryce with the gallery owner and a still-fawning Caleb. Her bright purple hair was twisted up into a braid concoction atop her head that, when paired with her pale, airy gossamer gown, added to her fairy look. She should be frolicking in a field of poppies, not schmoozing with the snobby art crowd in Chelsea.
“Successful night?” Kat asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from herself.
Yvette grinned and clapped her hands together. “Perfect.” She cast a meaningful look in Bryce’s direction. “You didn’t tell me your lumberjack was coming.”
“He’s not mine, and as you know he is not a lumberjack.”
Yvette was still staring and Kat had the disturbing need to distract her so she would take her greedy eyes off her man. Wait…her man? When had she started to think of Bryce as her anything?
She stabbed at her ice again. She didn’t even recognize herself these days.
“I’ll say,” Yvette sucked on her straw in a way that was entirely too sexy and Kat resisted the urge to snatch it out of her mouth, “Your lumberjack cleans up nice.”
Kat opened her mouth to reiterate that he was not, in fact, hers—but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat. So Yve would think he was hers for the night. What was the harm in that?
A silent alarm went off in her head. Danger, Will Robinson! This was the edge of a slippery slope. Let people think they were a couple one day and next thing you knew they really would be a couple.
She started to protest but she’d missed her moment.
Yve was already gushing about how Bryce had bought the painting that was the centerpiece for the whole show. It was the largest and most expensive of the exhibits.
Kat gnawed on her lip to keep from announcing her fear that her not-boyfriend had bought the painting to either a) impress Kat with his generosity or b) save Yvette, who she might have let slip on the drive over was as poor as a church mouse.
But to even hint at that would be cruel. Not only because Yvette truly did need the money, but also because there was every chance that he honestly had wanted the painting. No one could deny Yvette’s talent. She had a unique style that blended a feminine, whimsical aesthetic with an earthy, grim realism.
She’d been listed as one of the city’s up-and-coming sensations in New York Magazine, but in the art world critical acclaim did not necessarily equate to financial success, and that was certainly true for Yvette.
But if Bryce and other rich folks started buying up her paintings, she’d be set. She’d have the artist’s ideal trifecta: prestige, influence, and rent money.
So, instead of mentioning his Lancelot tendencies, she smiled and let her friend revel in the moment. When the gallery owner came over to ask Yvette a question, Kat waved her friend off telling her to do her schmoozing thing and they’d catch up at the after party.
Kat was hiding—er, enjoying some much-needed alone time—in a corner behind the bar when Bryce found her.
Her traitorous heart started racing at the sight of him. And, even worse, she felt a rush of excitement. Because she wanted to talk to him. Yeah, she’d happily kiss him again in a back room, too, but her stupid, ridiculous, wayward brain seemed happy just to chat.
Stupid, stupid brain. How many times did she have to explain that this was not what she wanted?
He came over and leaned against the wall beside her so they were both people watching from their little hiding spot. She felt a surge of warmth envelope her at his nearness—something cozy and sweet, like sipping a mug of hot cocoa in front of a fire.
Oh, this was so bad. She edged away. This was not cocoa in front of a fire. This was wicked temptation.
If he noticed her discomfort he didn’t comment and he didn’t try to follow her as she squirmed away from him. He seemed content to people watch and hang out beside her in silence.
He was the first to break it since she was too far gone in her brain, fretting over the fact that she wanted to talk to him.
“Your friends seem nice,” he said.
She made a noise of agreement. She could have mentioned that they seemed to adore him, but she didn’t. No need to encourage the man. One night and then he’d be gone.
“Are you all right?” He turned so he was leaning his shoulder against the wall, his body facing her, shielding her from the crowd. Dang it, he was protecting her again.
“You look a little sad,” he said.
Yes, she’d felt a wave of sadness that she wasn’t going to see him after tonight, did he really have to point it out? But it was nearly impossible to hold on to her peevishness when he was giving her that look of gentle concern.
Ugh, this guy was going to be the death of her.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I noticed your friends didn’t mention the fact that you quit,” he said quietly.
“That’s because I haven’t told them.”
He didn’t ask why but the question was written all over his face and she found herself answering. “I didn’t want to worry them.”
His brows lifted in surprise and she felt the need to explain. “I’m kind of the responsible one in our group.” ‘Kind of’ was putting it mildly. The joke was that she was the den mother and had been since day one of college. “I jus
t feel like it will distress them if I tell them now.” She shrugged. “I’ll tell them eventually.” Like, after she got a new job and could once again be their go-to crutch.
“So they lean on you but you don’t lean back,” he said. He didn’t sound like he was judging, just summing it up. She shrugged again. Pretty much.
“I bet they’d like to be there for you.” Again, no judgement, just a reflection. She tried to summon up annoyance—how dare he speak on behalf of her friends!—but instead she found herself watching Caleb chat up some unsuspecting woman who looked way too sweet and naïve for Caleb, while Kat made the rounds with the gallery owner at her side.
Maybe he had a point. They’d all grown up since college. Sure, they still had their areas to grow, but that included her. Maybe it was time to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they didn’t need her to be the mother figure anymore.
The world shifted just slightly at that thought, but it threw her off balance. She glanced up at Bryce and saw him gazing at her serenely, as if he had nothing better to do than stand here and watch her think.
“Maybe you have a point,” she admitted.
One side of his mouth lifted in an impossibly sexy smile. “I have my moments.”
She found herself returning that smile before she could stop herself. “Trust me, they still need my help, but maybe they’re better able to deal than I give them credit for.”
He nodded slowly, as if seriously considering her words. “From my experience, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Maybe they just need help finding theirs.”
Her brain latched onto that in weird way, like he’d just tapped into a nerve ending. She felt lit up with excitement. “Exactly.” And then she found herself telling him about Bart, her friend who was excelling at his new career and how great it had felt to help him find a job that made him happy, but also used his vast knowledge and skills he’d honed in the world of video games.
She soon found herself nerding out on the topic of her friends and helping them find their place. “Just because they’re artistic doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be able to make money, you know?”
Once Upon a Lumberjack Page 10
