by R. J. Groves
‘Andie,’ he started, reaching a hand towards her.
She stepped back, glancing down at his hand, her lips pressed into a thin line. He lowered his hand. He wanted to kiss the tension away, hold her close until her lips were swollen from his kisses. He swallowed, his jaw tense, his fists clenching and unclenching by his side. There was nothing he could do—nothing he should do. If he did …
There would be no going back.
‘I said we’re finished,’ she whispered.
He watched her leave. Watched her rush out of his office like she couldn’t have gotten out of there any quicker. Like she wouldn’t be able to hold herself together if she’d stayed in the same room as him a moment longer. He felt the pressure on his chest that shouldn’t be there.
I said we’re finished.
She wasn’t talking about the measurements that time.
And he shouldn’t feel as bad as he did.
Fuck.
His eyes dropped to the ugly vase still sitting on his desk, and before he could think better of it, it was colliding with the wall opposite him. He registered Helen wheeling her chair away from her desk and glancing into his office, her eyes falling to the shattered glass on the ground.
‘I’m not cleaning that up,’ she said, matter-of-factly, before nudging herself back to her desk.
He flopped into his chair, his eyes glued to the glass on the floor.
It should have made him feel better.
But it didn’t.
It was for the best. The less familiar he was with Andie, the better. The sooner he remembered that, the sooner he could get everything back on track that she’d derailed. And the sooner he could go on being alone and focused like he had been for the most part of ten years.
It didn’t seem nearly as appetising as it had before.
Chapter 13
Weeks had passed since she’d been in his office. It had seemed so much longer than that.
I said we’re finished.
The words still rang in his head with the cold, raw emotion she’d said them with. He knew he should be satisfied with that. After all, Andrea Gray was the kind of woman he could not be with. She was the kind of woman who he could trust all too easily and give himself to like a fool. Like the fool he’d once been. It was better that she wasn’t in his life. Besides, she’d made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him.
Which is why he should be happy that the other girl, Harley, was the one doing his fitting.
So, why wasn’t he?
Why couldn’t he shake the disappointment that was brewing inside him?
He glanced down at the top of her head as she tucked the hem of his pants under and pinned it in place. Her plain brown hair was twirled in a tight bun. He had no inclination to release it from its hold like he’d wanted to with Andie’s hair.
He frowned, glancing around the fitting room. Where was she? From his understanding, Andie was supposed to be doing all the adjustments for Libby’s wedding. So why was her colleague doing them for her? Well, he couldn’t speak for the girls, or Connor and his other groomsmen. But for his fitting, she was nowhere to be seen.
It shouldn’t bother him. He’d spent all week dreading that fitting, knowing that he would be seeing her again. Knowing that it would be another struggle to keep from touching her. From pulling her into his arms and kissing her until her knees went weak and she was begging him for more.
No, it was good that she wasn’t there. He couldn’t let that—or anything—happen again. Or ever. He cleared his throat, trying to sound as casual as he could manage.
‘I thought Andie was adjusting my suit,’ he said, hoping the disappointment didn’t show through.
‘She is.’ Harley pulled another pin from between her lips and pinned it to his hem. She moved on to the other leg.
‘It looks more like you’re doing it.’
She hesitated, glancing up at him with her round brown eyes—possibly her prettiest feature. Her brow furrowed. ‘I’m filling in for her,’ she said, bringing her focus back to the hem. ‘She had to duck out.’
‘Convenient,’ he muttered, rubbing the stubble on his chin. Even though he’d tried to focus more on keeping himself trimmed like he usually was, he was finding that it didn’t quite feel the same as it had pre-Andie.
‘What was that?’ Harley said, cheerily.
He pressed his lips together, considering making something up. But nothing else came. ‘I said it’s convenient.’ Well, he was committed now. Blasted mouth. She looked up at him questioningly, before focusing back on the hem. ‘That she’s not here for my fitting,’ he added. ‘Considering this wedding has brought in a decent payday for this bus—ouch!’ He cringed as one of her pins jabbed into the inside of his ankle. Somehow, he felt like it wasn’t accidental.
She glanced back up at him, an apology on her lips, but her eyes wicked. He clenched his jaw. It was certainly no accident. ‘You must know, though, that you are not our only client,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘And certainly not the only ones that Andie is dealing with.’
‘She shouldn’t double book, then,’ he growled.
Her eyes glinted with amusement. ‘Sometimes she has to fill in for me,’ she said. ‘And sometimes I fill in for her. It’s the way it happens. But I assure you, Andie will be the one making the adjustments on your suit. We might swap up who takes the measurements on occasion, but only one of us will do the adjustments. You can take the suit off, now.’
He shrugged the jacket off and handed it to her, careful not to dislodge the pins. ‘She’s not avoiding me, then?’ He hadn’t meant to ask it. He hadn’t even thought it. It seemed his mouth had a mind of its own when it came to anything Andie-related. Damn it. His ankle throbbed as a reminder.
Harley’s eyebrow shot up. ‘Unfortunately, we don’t get that kind of luxury in this business.’
He squinted, convinced she knew more than she was letting on, and turned to the curtained change room to finish changing. He hadn’t really wanted to see her, but the thought that she might be going to lengths to avoid him …
He squashed the thought down. He shouldn’t be disappointed that he didn’t get to see her, hear her voice, smell her. Though, come to think of it, there were a few moments where he thought he’d caught a whiff of her unique scent. But surely not. Perhaps it was simply the smell of the shop that he noticed on her. Maybe it was never her scent.
***
Andie stared at the bead of blood forming on her fingertip. Having worked as a seamstress for so long, one might think that she’d grown used to having her fingers pricked. But it still hurt. She shifted her position slightly. Sitting on the ground was a lot more uncomfortable than she thought it would be. Though that could just be the whole situation.
She wiped the bead of blood on her black skirt, careful not to get it on the bridesmaid’s dress that she was working on—Isabelle’s. She briefly considered leaving a pin hidden and hoping that it might cause a bit more than discomfort for the stuck-up hussy.
Harley’s head popped into the room she was hiding in and dropped to her sorry state on the floor. ‘He’s gone. You can come out now.’
‘I’m not sure I want to,’ she muttered.
Why was she feeling so sorry for herself? It had been three weeks since their conversation in his office. She hadn’t heard from him in that time, and she hadn’t tried to contact him, either. Still … she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d thought of her like she’d thought of him. Probably not. She’d probably be sorely disappointed if she ever asked. Which she’d never do. She couldn’t embarrass herself more than she already had. She might just die if she did.
Harley slid down to the floor next to her, leaning against the wall, their heads below the window that looked out to the fitting room—the very room that Taylor had been in only moments before.
‘I must say,’ Harley mused, ‘I’ve never seen this room from the floor before.’
Andie caught her friend’s eye, and saw
Harley’s mouth twitch. She felt a giggle bubbling up and they both laughed at the situation. ‘I must seem so childish,’ she admitted. ‘Hiding out in this little room like this.’
Harley nudged her shoulder against Andie’s. ‘What’s childish is that you’re still in here after he’s already left.’
Andie’s lips pulled into a smile and she sighed. ‘You’re right, it is.’ She pulled herself to standing and reached out a hand to help her friend up. ‘Thanks for taking over for me.’
‘He asked after you, you know.’
Andie bit into her lip, draping the bridesmaid dress over a hanger and placing it on the rack. ‘I know,’ she muttered. ‘I heard him.’
Harley considered her for a moment, her lips pursed thoughtfully. ‘He seemed disappointed.’
‘I doubt it,’ she scoffed.
‘I’m serious. I mean, he tried to sound all cool about it. But I could tell he was annoyed that you weren’t doing the fitting.’
‘He was probably just concerned about his suit not fitting properly.’
Harley’s eyebrow lifted sceptically. ‘I don’t think that’s it. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to micromanage despite his involvement with the wedding.’
Andie smiled awkwardly at her friend and headed towards the front room. Despite the fact that she didn’t have to duck out while he was there, she did now. Harley followed closely behind her.
‘Andie, what happened between you two?’
She didn’t stop walking, only glanced at her friend while she gathered her things. ‘Nothing. Why would something happen?’
Harley gave her a disbelieving look. ‘You practically begged me to take over the fitting for you.’
She waved her hand dismissively. ‘He’s just one of those clients. You know the sort.’
‘I do know the sort,’ Harley said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘And I’ve seen you with them. You still take the appointments professionally and handle them with ease. You have never asked me to take over for you.’ Andie stopped what she was doing to look at her friend. Concern was all over Harley’s face. It almost made her cave. ‘You were almost hysterical.’
She faltered. She knew Harley cared about her. Harley had been one of the only people who had been there for her when things went south with Joseph. She’d trusted her with every detail about that. Why couldn’t she bring herself to divulge information now?
‘He … he reminds me of Joseph,’ she managed.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. They were both businessmen. Both assholes. Both making her lose control of her sensibility and making her flustered. Though, in different ways, it seemed. With Joseph, she had been almost … willing … to be flustered, to lose rational thought. Almost like she wanted to.
But with Taylor Ballin …
He left her craving more than she should. She never wanted to feel flustered around him. Never wanted him to have any kind of effect on her. Hell, she’d convinced herself she would never have anything to do with another businessman ever again. And he particularly drove her mad. But somehow … she was still wanting. Wanting him. Wanting more of his touches, his kisses. Wanting to have him more than in just her dreams. Wanting, and yet, not wanting.
God, men were confusing.
Taylor and Joseph were nothing alike, not really. The fact that they were both businessmen was really the extent of their alikeness. But he could still hurt her the same way Joseph had, and more. Much, much more.
‘Babe,’ Harley drawled, giving her a sympathetic look. ‘I don’t see it, personally. But I never spent much time with Joseph. Is it something he said? Did?’
Andie blinked, shaking her head to gather her thoughts. ‘No, I just … they’re barely alike. Just—’ She broke off, blinking some more, hoping that her cheeks weren’t reddening as she thought of their date. ‘He’s a businessman,’ she said, hoping her recovery was successful. ‘That’s all. I’ll be fine next time. Promise. I just … I freaked out.’
Harley studied her, then nodded. She didn’t seem too convinced, but Andie could tell she wasn’t going to push it further. She felt bad for not telling her about the date. The kiss. The dreams. Some things just felt too personal to share. Even with her best friend.
‘I really have to go now,’ she said, grimacing. ‘You sure you’re all right to close by yourself?’
‘I’ve done it dozens of times,’ Harley teased, their conversation seemingly forgotten. ‘You go, hang out with your new best friend.’ Harley poked her tongue out at her and busied herself with tidying the front desk.
Andie sighed, relieved that she didn’t have to give too much away yet. Hell, how could she explain it to Harley when she didn’t understand it herself? She was almost out the door when she rammed into a brick wall—or as good as. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, stopping her from stumbling. She followed the buttons of his shirt upwards, eyed the strong, masculine neck, and then went higher until she met those hard grey eyes, slightly tinted with a touch of blue. She felt the little bit of breath that hadn’t been knocked out of her leave her body, felt his fingertips press against the small of her back. God, she could smell him. The gentleness of his cologne mingled with the masculine, manly smell that was him. It only fuelled the ache she’d been trying so hard to squash.
He studied her eyes, his gaze dropping to her lips and lingering there a moment, and his mouth opened slightly, as if about to say something. Her pulse quickened. Her mind was blank.
‘Mr Ballin,’ Harley said, saving Andie from the awkward situation. ‘Did you forget something?’
Hesitantly, he lifted his gaze to look over Andie’s shoulder towards Harley. She felt the breath slowly ease back into her body. How could he have this effect on her? She’d never—never—felt this way around anyone. Not even Joseph. With Joseph, she’d been so … level-headed. So … normal. Well, maybe not as much as she thought she’d been, since she’d failed to see the signs like her family and friends had. She felt Taylor’s fingers twitch against her back.
‘Umm … yeah,’ he muttered. Then, as if regaining his composure, his expression cleared. ‘I think I left my phone in the change room.’
‘I’ll go check,’ Harley said cheerily.
No. No, no, no.
She could tell the moment that Harley had left the room, leaving her alone to face the guy that she’d only just gone to lengths to avoid. His eyes fell back on her, and she dropped her gaze to just in front of her, where her hands were pressed against his chest. She jerked back as though she’d been electrocuted, clutching her hands to her chest. She’d been touching him all that time? And she hadn’t even realised …
He released her, allowing her to take a step backwards, putting some space between them. ‘I thought you were out,’ he said gruffly.
She hazarded a quick glance at his face. His expression had hardened, and she couldn’t help but miss the brief moment where they’d both been surprised. Where he looked at her so gently, so warmly, and his arms had held her protectively. Her eyes widened and she cleared her throat, trying her best to push the thought aside. No, she needed to have as little as possible to do with him. She couldn’t let herself get hurt again. Not like that.
‘I am,’ she snapped, straightening herself. His eyebrow shot up as though he wasn’t buying it. ‘I just had to pick up a couple things before I went out again.’ His eyes narrowed as he studied her. ‘In fact,’ she added, lifting her chin in defiance, ‘I was just on my way to see your sister.’
She realised after she said it that it might have been too much information. Why, oh, why did she have to mention she was seeing his sister? She pressed her lips together, lifting her chin in defiance. She was determined to not let him think she’d said something she hadn’t meant to.
‘My sister?’ he repeated, frowning. ‘Why are you meeting up with Libby?’
‘She asked me for advice on some things with the venue,’ she said simply. ‘If you’ll excuse me …’
She made a move for the
door, but he reached an arm out in front of her. Before he could say anything, Harley was back in the room, his phone in her hand. ‘Sorry. It took me a while to find, but here it is.’
He reached his other hand out to take the phone, thanking Harley as he did. Andie took his moment of distraction as a good time to duck under his arm and out the door. She moved quickly towards her car, but she wasn’t quick enough. She heard him swear and yell more thanks to Harley. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut, gripping her keys, thankful that she didn’t have to dig around in her bag for them this time.
‘Hold up, Andie. I’m coming with you.’
Her mouth dropped open, and she snapped it closed, spinning on her heels until she was facing him. ‘No, you bloody well are not.’
He smirked, coming to a halt in front of her. ‘Yes, I am.’
She stamped her foot. ‘You are not. Why do you insist on being there for everything?’
His lips curved higher and she felt like slapping the smile off his face. Though, after the last time she slapped him … Her cheeks grew hot at the memory of his lips on hers.
‘I am paying for it,’ he said. ‘I should know what’s happening.’
Her body was almost vibrating with annoyance. She stamped her foot again. ‘Oh, you are so annoying.’
His eyes flashed with amusement, and he indicated towards the fancy car behind them. ‘Is that your car?’
She glanced at it and laughed. He looked at her questioningly. ‘My car, sure,’ she said, shaking her head. The bastard thought she could afford a fancy car? She couldn’t even afford a new one. Or anything under fifteen years old, for that matter.
He made a move towards the fancy car, looking confused when she walked past it to her own, beaten-up, twenty-year-old car. ‘I thought—’
‘You thought wrong,’ she said, unlocking her door and sliding into the driver’s seat. She put the key in the ignition and started the car. Surely, now, he wouldn’t want to come with her. She sighed when he tapped on the passenger window and pointed to the lock. Mumbling to herself, she reached across and unlocked the door.