With every passing hour they spent together, it became easier to talk. Even when they disagreed, he found himself laughing about it later. It was easy to remember why he’d been completely crazy about her.
It also became harder to ignore that he still wanted her. Not just on some level, but every.
It was impossible to imagine that anything could happen between them. The tasting had proven as much. It had taken all of his effort to be polite to Bryant. And he hadn’t exactly succeeded.
Beck had no reason to be jealous. There was obviously nothing but friendship and camaraderie between Sarah and Bryant. But it was hard not to ignore the differences in their situations. Where Sarah and Bryant were completely at ease, he and Sarah would always butt heads. Even when they were getting along.
While his history with Sarah was checkered at best, she and Bryant had traveled the world and built countless memories together. He’d never be able to do the same.
Rationally, he knew that. His heart just didn’t care.
Only the night before, as he’d been in bed trying to catch the few hours of sleep he could manage between jobs, his mind had wandered to her. There was still so much of the girl he’d fallen for there. The drive. The focus. The determination.
There was something else. A steadiness that made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, they found themselves in the same place at the same time again, she wouldn’t bolt.
It was dangerous thinking.
Beck was finishing up swapping out switches in the utility room when Sarah called out for him.
He shoved the final switch in place and stepped out into the main room, wiping his hands on a rag. The smell reached him before he saw it.
“Pizza?”
“From your favorite place.”
Sarah’s arm swept across the cardboard box, resting on an empty desk. “Since you can’t go to your pizza joint, because I’m keeping you so busy, I figured I’d bring it to you.”
Beck grinned. “Give me two minutes to wash up.”
By the time he returned, Sarah had turned off the work lamp and lit a few candles. They’d started using candles on meal breaks the night before to keep from draining his generator.
A knot formed in his stomach. He hoped he’d be able to eat since she’d gone to the trouble.
Taking the empty seat across from her, Beck loaded up his plate with a couple slices of pizza. His mouth watered in anticipation, and he knew he wouldn’t have any troubles throwing down a few slices.
Over pepperoni pizza, Sarah told him about her day. She was still finalizing a few details with her first group of clients, but he could see the excitement in her face. It was contagious. Even though he still didn’t completely understand how she could make money from this business, he was intrigued.
“I have to ask, where’d you get the idea?”
She smirked. “It just came to me.”
“Like in a dream or a vision?” he teased.
“Exactly.” Giggling, she wiped her hands on a napkin and pushed her plate aside.
“Actually, I always wanted to study abroad. I planned to spend my senior year in England or Scotland. I’d even applied for a couple of programs.”
“What happened?”
She lifted her shoulder. “The real world came knocking, and I had no choice but to answer.”
Now he remembered. She and Bryant had found their first big investor their junior year of college. Though they’d both worked their asses off to finish their degrees—and even earned a pair of MBAs between them—they’d devoted every other waking hour to building their business.
The persistence had paid off, but apparently at a cost.
“I got to thinking that there had to be a lot of people like me who never had the chance to study abroad. Maybe they couldn’t spare the credit hours. Or maybe it would have been too much of a financial burden. So they’d put their dreams on hold.”
Her eyes took on a dreamy look that made his stomach clench. He’d always wanted her most when she was talking about one of her passions.
“I’ve been lucky. Business has been good, and I’ve been able to travel the world. But that doesn’t mean other people shouldn’t have the same opportunity. You can learn so much by stepping out of your comfort zone and experiencing other cultures. Travel is good for you.”
She broke then, tearing her gaze away. His words from days before came back. He supposed it was time to come clean.
“I wouldn’t know.”
Her brow creased. “You haven’t traveled much?”
“Not unless I could get there by car.”
“You’ve never been on a plane?”
A part of Beck wanted to close off. To wave off her question and go back to work. But as he looked into her gaze, so curious and concerned, more of him wanted to let her know him better.
“I’ve been on a plane. Once. We didn’t go anywhere. Not far.”
Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.
“The one and only time I booked a flight, we spent about ten minutes in the air. And then . . .” He shook his head, unable to relive the moment.
“By some miracle—or at least an incredible act of courage—the pilot managed to get us back on the ground. I haven’t been able to get on a plane again. Even thinking about it . . .”
The telltale licks of panic threatened to resurface, and he took a few calming breaths to keep them from taking over.
Taking a final breath, he cleared his throat. He needed to finish.
“Statistically, I know I’m more likely to be struck by lightning. It’s more likely I’ll win the lottery. There are a million other things that could happen to me before I’d be in another crash. But,” he paused to take another breath. “I just can’t do it.”
Beck raised his head to meet Sarah’s gaze again and saw only understanding.
“I get it. Not exactly, because, thank God, I’ve never been through something like that. But I can appreciate how debilitating fear can be.”
He gave a bitter grin. “You don’t seem to let fear get in the way of what you want.”
“I’ve never been afraid like that.”
Reaching out, she covered his hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
He gave a short nod and was going to suggest he get back to work when Sarah suddenly leaned forward and kissed him.
It started out chaste, but when she let out a light sigh, he reached across the desk for her and tugged her closer. Fire burned inside him, threatening to burst with his need for her. He nibbled on her lower lip until her mouth opened on a groan from him. He wanted this. Needed it with every fiber within him. In a matter of moments, years of heartache and questions seemed to disappear with one answer.
This felt right. This was where he most wanted to be.
Beck’s hand slipped down her side, moving up again slowly to cup the side of her breast. His thumb caressed her gently, and she moaned.
That sound seemed to break the spell. Sarah pulled back suddenly, leaving him hanging over the pizza.
“Oh my God.” She pressed the back of her hand to her lips. “I am so sorry. I don’t know . . . I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Actually, it had been better than okay. It had been freaking hot.
“That can’t happen again.”
Before he could ask why the hell not, she held up her hands.
“Right now, you’re working for me. I can’t. We can’t. We have to keep this professional.”
Her tongue ran lightly over the lip he’d tasted only a moment ago. Her pale eyes met his.
“We have to keep this professional,” she repeated. “As long as you’re working here.”
He supposed she was right. Even though he’d never hold it against her. Even though he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until neither of them could think anymore. Even though he wanted her more than he could ever say.
If they crossed that line now, she’d feel badly about it. He didn’t want
her to feel bad about him or them. Not anymore.
He could wait. Hell, maybe he’d been waiting for her the past decade. What was a few more days?
Chapter Eight
“Yes!” Sarah fist-pumped the air and jumped to her feet to do a little dance. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“What happened?” Beck called out from across the room.
“Only the best thing ever.”
“What? Did you get a bunch of new prospective clients?”
Finishing her dance, Sarah flipped the laptop closed. “Better.”
“Did your competitor go under?”
If only. “Better.”
“You get a new investor?”
Sarah bit back a grin, trying not to let the excitement in her bubble over like a bottle of poorly popped champagne. “A very important piece of equipment just arrived.”
“New equipment.” Beck’s eyebrows flew up. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided to replace the server.”
“After all the work you did? Never.”
Well, not never. It would all have to be upgraded as the company grew and technology evolved. But Beck had created a masterpiece during the past few days. When she’d shown it off to Bryant and a couple of industry colleagues, they’d been suitably impressed. She’d been quick to brag about Beck’s work and promised to get them in touch with him for future projects. Just as soon as he finished her work.
“Then what is it?”
“If you’re at a pausing place,”—she fought yet another grin at the dirty look he sent her way—“I could show you.”
“If you keep putting me on breaks, this will never get done.”
“Liar. We both know you’re just doing the finishing touches.”
Beck grumbled under his breath, but set a tool aside and wiped his hands on a towel. “I can give you fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll take it.”
Sarah reached for his hand without thinking. The feel of his rough, warm hand pressed against her skin sent a jolt through her. Not the kind that came from carrying a charge from electrical wires or servers. But it was every bit as electrifying and completely exciting.
Holding hands was absolutely crossing a line. But as he linked his fingers through hers, Sarah decided there was no point in fighting it. Not when it felt so nice to walk hand in hand down an open corridor.
It felt better than nice. It felt right.
When all this was over, when his work was done and her company launched, maybe they could meet up for a coffee or a slice of pizza. They could hash everything out. Maybe she’d been too hasty breaking up with him years ago. Or maybe, the timing was finally right for them.
While she hoped that was the case, it was something she’d have to think about later. There was a more pressing, more urgent matter at hand. And it was now being installed in the office’s commons area.
As they reached the room, Sarah regrettably had to release Beck’s hand to sign for the delivery. She was practically bouncing on her feet while she did.
Beside her, Beck stared in confusion. “Am I really seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
“If you’re seeing an invaluable piece of office equipment, then yes.”
“It’s a foosball table.”
She coughed to cover a laugh. “It’s a place for my hardworking employees to unwind after a tough call. Or a place to connect with their co-workers when they need to brainstorm.”
He shook his head. “It’s a game.”
“And one I’m about to kick your ass at.” Sarah held up one of the little white foosballs as the delivery team picked up the wrapping and left. “Or are you chicken?”
His eyes narrowed. “Pick your side.”
Sarah stepped into position on the other side of the table. “Want to go first?”
“Ladies first.”
“Okay. It’s your funeral.”
She dropped the ball into the slot and immediately gripped the closest handles to operate her players. On the other side of the table, Beck did the same. He wiggled his players as the ball plopped onto the fake field.
Sarah held still waiting patiently while Beck’s players continued to move.
“Come on,” he hissed through his teeth. “Come on.”
The ball hit the other wall and bounced within striking distance of one of Sarah’s players. With a quick flick of her wrist, she sent the ball sailing across the field. Before Beck could reach the handle operating his goalie, the ball sailed into the goal.
“Point for me.” She batted her eyes. “Don’t you wish you had first serve after all?”
“It was one play.” Beck grabbed the ball and put it in position. “It’s so on.”
The next serve, Beck put up a better defense. Though his style was still aggressive—like his players needed him to shout at them to get a good performance—he exercised a little more patience and restraint.
It paid off when the ball flew past one of Sarah’s players and into her goal.
“I believe that’s one and one.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
Serve after serve, they volleyed and pushed the ball back and forth across the table.
“Suck it,” Sarah called out when she scored her second point.
“How do you like that?” Beck asked when he matched her.
On and on they went. Sarah’s heart raced, and beads of perspiration wet her brow. With every passing minute, the adrenaline pumping through her veins grew. And with every grin Beck sent her way—and every shout of frustration or victory from his lips—Sarah remembered how much fun they used to have.
This. This was the guy she’d fallen for years ago. This was the guy who’d been missing at the end. And, in fairness, she wasn’t the woman she had been when they’d called it quits.
More, for the first time in a long time, Sarah forgot to think about bottom lines and cost projections to just have fun.
Which she’d be sure to point out to Beck later as an explanation for why a game room was an absolutely essential part of any modern office.
She was one point away from victory—and, okay, so was Beck—when she plucked the ball up one more time and lined it up to serve.
“Say your prayers, Spencer.”
“Oh, they’ve been said, Burton.”
She’d just dropped the ball into play when Bryant stepped into the room. His face lit up.
“The table came. Nice! Can I play the winner?”
“Sure!” Sarah flicked her wrist as Beck released his grip on the handles and stood up right.
He offered no defense as Sarah scored the winning point, completely unopposed.
“Hey, what gives?”
He shook his head. “I should get back to finish. I still have at least one more night of work to do, and I’d hate to have to bill you for extra hours.”
Sarah’s heart sank as she watched him move around the table. On his way past, he touched the small of her back.
“Good game, Burton. You were right. The table was a good call.”
Then he was gone, leaving her to stare after him and a confused Bryant in his wake.
Was Beck really leaving? Again? If he was going to do that every time Bryant set foot in a room, they were going to have problems.
Then again, they always did have problems. She couldn’t exactly remember all of them off the top of her head. Not when her back was still tingling from where he’d touched it a moment ago.
Beck had walked away years ago. Granted, Sarah had pushed him out the door, but he hadn’t looked back. Maybe that was too much to overcome.
She hoped it wasn’t. Because after a year of being in a completely monogamous relationship with her work, Sarah wouldn’t mind opening up that relationship to see other people. As long as Beck, and only Beck, was the other people.
They’d just have to sift through their problems. It was a good thing Sarah had an international reputation in the business community for being an excellent problem solver.
; The following evening, at Sarah’s insistence, Beck was trying out the new coffee machine that had arrived earlier that day. With only a few more hours of work until everything was up and operational, Beck figured he’d be done by nine or ten. So he didn’t really need the caffeine boost.
But as always, it was nearly impossible for him to say no to Sarah.
He’d just pressed the button instructing the machine to make him a small latte with a pinch of cinnamon, when Bryant appeared around the corner. Beck nodded in acknowledgment to the other man. After the way the game had gone the evening before, Beck didn’t particularly want to shoot the breeze with Sarah’s partner.
Sarah’s partner. Her right-hand man. Her partner in crime. Her best friend. The man who understood Sarah and her hopes and dreams better than anyone else. Especially him.
Beck’s jaw tightened. It was impossible to ignore or deny the chemistry between Sarah and Bryant. It always had been—both a decade and twenty-four hours ago. Though they’d never crossed the line between friendship and professionalism to something much more personal, what was to hold them back once Sarah’s company hit the big times and she went solo?
Bryant slammed the refrigerator door shut, drawing Beck’s attention.
“Okay, let’s do this. We’re both adults.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Beck. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always acted like I poisoned your dog or something. So just tell me. What’s the deal?”
“Who says there’s a deal?”
Bryant just gave Beck a “do you think I’m an idiot” look.
Beck sighed, wishing his latte would hurry the eff up, so he could get out of there. “I don’t have a problem with you.”
“You just don’t like me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“You don’t.” Bryant rested a hip against the counter. “But you never gave it much of a shot.”
“Did I have to?”
“It would’ve been nice. At least, that’s what I thought back when you and Sarah were dating.”
“Which we aren’t anymore.” Even if Beck might wish that weren’t the case. “We haven’t for a long time.”
Go for Love Page 5
