Yeah. Brains. That worked better.
But either way, the point was that Darren’s reputation and livelihood were at stake here and Bryce was in danger of dragging him down into the muck right alongside him.
He held up the piece of paper with Kat’s address. “Thanks for getting this. I promise I won’t mess things up any further.”
Darren nodded but his expression didn’t exactly convey confidence. They walked out together in silence. Bryce, for his part, was lost in thought about how exactly he was going to make this right.
He still didn’t have much of a plan when he arrived at her brownstone apartment building in the East Village an hour later.
But he did have flowers.
Flowers, he hoped, would be a good start. But after he rang the buzzer he had second thoughts about the bouquet. Was this too hokey? Too old-fashioned?
Was this something Lancelot would do?
He’d never thought of himself as chivalrous before, and if anyone had accused him of being too chivalrous, he probably would have taken it as a compliment.
But somehow Kat’s accusation that he was trying to be her knight in shining armor did not seem complimentary. Was he really that backwards in his thinking? Was he secretly a misogynist and he didn’t even know it?
He scowled at the lilies as though they held the answer.
No. His gut was saying loudly and clearly that he was not sexist. He just wanted to help her, that was all. Not because she couldn’t help herself but because he wanted to make her happy.
And he wanted to be a part of her life, that had also been a big part of it.
Really, were wanting to see her happy and wanting to see her often such a bad thing?
Her face when the door swung open gave him his answer. Yes. It was bad. He was bad. He might not have had bad intentions but clearly intentions were not the issue here.
“I’m sorry.” He shoved the flowers at her with little grace and zero charm. What was it with him around this woman? He turned into a dope, at best, and an overbearing, controlling brute at worst.
She didn’t accept the flowers. She didn’t even give them a second glance, seemingly too intent upon fixing him with that menacing scowl. The fact that she was glaring at him didn’t stop him from noticing how outrageously beautiful she looked.
“Oh man,” he said under his breath. He was so done for.
Gone was the corporate chic look she’d been sporting just hours ago, but this was so not the casual look he remembered from the lodge.
Her curls were pulled up and back in an artfully messy up-do, some curls falling around her face, which had more makeup than he’d seen on her before—bright red lips and dark, long lashes. Paired with a sleek, fitted black dress, she looked glamorous and chic.
Like she was going out for the night.
Oh no.
She looked like she was going out on a date.
She shifted so one hip jutted out as she crossed her arms, her scowl never softening. “Oh man?” she repeated. “Oh man… you’re sorry? You’ve said that already. Oh man… you’re an entitled jerk? There was really no need to come here and tell me something I already know.” She took a deep breath, clearly just gaining steam. “Or maybe you’re here to save me again.” Her tone dripped with scornful sarcasm, and rightfully so. He had it coming.
“Yes, to the apology,” he cut in. “And yes to the entitled jerk comment. I’ve acted terribly, and there’s no denying it.”
Her brows came down. “You’re not supposed to be agreeing with me here. Let me have my tirade, dang it.”
“Sorry.” He started to slip past her into her apartment, even though he hadn’t exactly been invited. But she hadn’t exactly slammed the door in his face either, and for that he was inordinately grateful.
The living room was small but tastefully decorated with muted colors, decorative pillows, and throw blankets covering every available sitting area giving it a cozy vibe, like at any moment she might sink down with a cup of tea and read a good book.
But judging from the way she was dressed, she was not looking to settle in for the night.
He heard her sigh of exasperation as she shut the door behind him. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I kind of have plans so—”
“A date?” He instantly regretted the possessive, slightly jealous sounding question.
Her nose scrunched up. “What?”
“Your plans tonight.” He cleared his throat. “Are you waiting for your date?”
She lifted her brows slowly and gave him a look one typically gave the clinically insane when they were found screaming obscenities on the subway platform. “No, Lancelot, I’m not waiting for a date to pick me up in his big fancy car, nor do I need a man to open my doors for me or order my food or—”
“Okay, I get it,” he said. “I’m not only a jerk, I’m a chauvinistic jerk.”
He thought he caught a hint of amusement in her eyes at his easy admission. It wasn’t much, but he’d take it. She finally accepted the flowers he handed over and he hid his grin at the pleasure that lit her eyes when she smelled them. It was there and gone quickly, but he’d caught it.
“I’ll have you know my mother raised me to be a gentleman,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to her. “So I admit that I do open doors, but I would never presume to order my date’s meal.” Honest confusion had him squinting at her. “I never did understand that one. How is that supposed to be helpful?”
Surprisingly, she agreed with him. “Right? I mean, what if I was allergic to shellfish? Are you supposed to just intuit that or would I have to give you a list of all of my allergies in advance so you don’t accidentally send me to the ER?” She shifted from one foot to the other and he realized that she was barefoot. For some reason that added an intimacy to this moment. He’d caught her unawares and was in her home, her space. For the first time since he’d met her, he was in her world, catching a peek of his woman in her natural habitat.
Not his woman.
Not yet.
A familiar surge of adrenaline had him mentally vowing that he would make her his. It was the same overwhelming urge—no, need—that had struck when he’d made the decision to buy her company.
Perhaps this crazy possessed feeling wasn’t to be trusted…but he didn’t have much say in the matter.
It was ludicrous and it was irrational—but it was everything. This was his gut talking, but it was also his body, his mind, and his heart. Holy crap. He wanted her—in every sense of the word. He wanted her in his life, at his side, in his bed, in his corner, on his team…
He wanted her. All of her.
And he wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to share laughs with her, and hear her fears, and stay up all night with her, and bring her tea when she was sick, and work together, and fall asleep cuddling, and….
Oh crap, he’d fallen hard and fast for this woman.
This was new.
In fact, it was the first time he’d ever experienced anything like it. He’d known attraction at first sight, but never this.
Up until today he still probably would have argued that love at first sight didn’t exist. But now he knew better. And really, it made sense that this would be the way he’d fall. He’d always been one to trust his instincts, and wasn’t that just another way of saying trusting your heart? Listening to emotions and following on blind faith?
She moved past him in the small living room and stood on tiptoe to pull an empty vase down from atop a bookcase.
“Here, let me get that for you,” he said as he started to follow her across the room. He stopped short when she turned and glared meaningfully.
Right. She didn’t need his help.
But he needed her, and somehow he had to get her to see that she needed him too. Not to fight her battles or snag vases from high places, but in her life, as her partner.
“You never answered me before,” he said. He watched uselessly as she stretched up on her tipt
oes once more.
“What was the question?”
“Are you going out on a date?”
She managed to snag the vase and dropped down onto the balls of her feet, turning quickly to face him. “Would it bother you if I was?”
“Yes.”
His quick, honest retort seemed to surprise her. “Oh.” She walked over to the table where she’d set the bouquet and put it in the vase. “Why?”
She wasn’t facing him so he couldn’t see what she was thinking. He’d realized by now that the best way to get through to this woman was with blunt honesty.
Granted, he’d learned that the hard way, but he’d learned it.
“Because I want to date you.”
Her hands stopped fidgeting with the flowers but she kept her back to him. “Oh.”
Oh? He pushed aside disappointment. He hadn’t expected this to be easy. “I know you’re still angry with me and you have every right—”
“Thanks for the permission,” she muttered, but the earlier anger was gone from her voice. He got the feeling she was just arguing out of habit so he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. It’s not an excuse but I’ve never felt this way before and I didn’t know how to handle it.”
He saw her shoulders stiffen.
“I guess I went a little crazy. I just knew I wanted to see you again and be in your life. I wanted to do something that would make you happy, and…obviously I blew it.”
She turned to face him, her expression guarded. “Apology accepted.”
Really?
He stared at her for a moment, disbelief making him utter the words before he could stop them. “Really? That was almost too easy.”
She gave a hint of a smile and he clung to it like a drowning man would a life preserver.
“I’m not saying all is forgiven and forgotten, but I accept your apology.”
Some of his relief turned to wariness. She sounded so distant. Formal, almost. Sure enough, she started to move past him to the front door, her voice oddly breathy. “Like I said, I have plans tonight, so maybe we could talk another time.”
He watched her carefully, not sure if he believed his eyes. But sure enough, her expression had taken on a frantic quality, her eyes wide as she avoided his gaze in passing.
Kat—his Kat, the woman who’d punched him mercilessly in her office—was running scared.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She stopped at the door, her hand on the knob. “What?”
He moved toward her, trying to keep his pace even so she didn’t bolt. Nothing to fear here, folks. Just your everyday jerk coming on way too strong.
He gestured to her dress and hair. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” She shook her head as if annoyed with herself. “Out.” He waited out the silence until she filled it. “One of my friends is having an art gallery opening tonight so I’m going to show my support.”
“Sounds fun,” he said.
She nodded. “It should be.”
“Are you going with a date?” his one-track mind asked.
She shook her head. “Just friends.”
“Can I go as your date?”
She shook her head again, far more forcefully, and he watched with interest as she swallowed visibly. She was nervous. She was more than nervous.
But why? Her anger he understood, but her being scared? Of him?
The thought did not sit well.
“Why not?” he asked.
Her brows shot up in surprise. “Um, well… You just bought my company today which meant I had to quit, so….”
She shrugged as if that was an acceptable answer. And maybe it was. Maybe he was moving too fast considering he had a lot to make up for. But then again, that was even more reason to start right away.
Like, right this second.
“If you want your job back, I think I’ve found a solution.” He didn’t want to be talking about work right now but if cleaning up that mess needed to happen before they could move forward, so be it. “I talked to someone in legal and there’s a way we could reorganize the executive team so that you don’t report to me at all. You’d have complete autonomy and—”
“No.”
He took a step closer, stopping when she stiffened again. “Just hear me out. I know you love your job and—”
“I said no.” Her voice was harder this time.
When he stared at her in clear confusion, she let out a long breath. “Look, I really do have to get going. Maybe we can talk another time.”
He knew without a doubt that if he left now, with the way things stood, he would never see her again. She was running from him and he didn’t know why, but he had to make her stop. He had to get her to see that they were worth taking a chance on.
“Please,” he said, not trying to hide his rising desperation. “Tell me what I can do to make this right.”
She stared at him for a moment before letting out another long sigh. “There’s nothing you can do. I’m not coming back to work there.”
He was at a loss. “Then, tell me, what can I do to help?”
She arched a brow. “I think you’ve helped quite enough for one day, don’t you?”
He winced. Fair enough. “No more helping, then. Got it.”
They studied one another in silence for a moment and then she shifted, and he knew she was about to not-so-subtly kick him out.
He panicked. “Let me be your date tonight.”
She blinked. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have no interest in dating you.”
Ouch. Her tone was flat and there was nothing to suggest she didn’t mean exactly what she’d said. Nothing except his gut, which was still shouting loudly and insistently that this was the one. That they belonged together and that somewhere deep down, she knew it too.
He just had to make her see it.
Somehow.
She looked so wary, so defensive, and that was when he knew. She did like him. If she didn’t have any feelings for him, she wouldn’t feel so threatened by his overtures.
Heck, she wouldn’t have allowed him into her home in the first place. This woman was a lot of things, but a pushover was not one of them.
No, he’d bet money that despite her rigid stance and her unwavering tone, she was conflicted. She wanted to be with him, but she didn’t want to want to be with him, for whatever reason.
He mentally rolled his eyes. Well, he supposed he could guess her reasons. So far he’d done nothing to endear himself to her. Taking a crazy action that led to her quitting was hardly the wooing this woman deserved.
He had to take it back a notch. Coming over here with flowers in hand basically admitting that he’d fallen for her and asking to date her was overkill.
As was buying her company.
He was pushing too fast and too hard, and she was erecting a wall a mile high in response.
If he wanted to get through to her, he’d have to slip between the cracks, so to speak. Appeal to the part of her that was tempted. Give her an excuse to let him in, just a little bit.
“Give me one date. Just one.” Wow, way to up the stakes there, buddy. But he’d already opened his mouth and it was too late to back down now. Go big or go home, right? “One date, and if you don’t want to see me again, I promise to never reach out ever again. No phone calls, no texts, no unexpected visits at your home.”
“No buying the company I work for, wherever that may be?” she added.
His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he caught the teasing in her tone. There was the Kat he kind of knew but already loved.
He closed the distance between them, coming so close he caught a whiff of her subtle perfume, something flowery but not too sweet. He saw the way her pupils dilated, the way her breathing stopped.
She felt it too. The attraction, the chemistry. That was a given after their weekend together. Five kisses weren’t a
lot, but he’d made the most out of each and every one.
He’d already broken every rule in the book by buying the company she worked for, it wasn’t like he was above using that attraction to get what he wanted.
Reaching out, he cupped her face in his palms, watching as her eyes widened and her lips parted.
“One night,” he insisted.
Her eyes narrowed. “When did this go from one date to one night?”
He grinned, caught off guard by her comment. “Slip of the tongue, I guess.”
“Uh huh.” Her tone turned sassy. “You should be so lucky.”
He leaned in until his lips were so close to hers, he could feel her short, rapid little breaths against his cheek. She made no move to back away and a surge of triumph had him grinning like an idiot. “Trust me, I already know how lucky I am.” He brushed his lips over hers so gently he caught her little whimper.
“I’m the luckiest man alive because I’ve gotten to taste these lips,” he said softly. She leaned in toward him and he grazed her lips with another soft kiss.
“Tell me I can take you out tonight,” he said.
She made a noncommittal noise but her expression was dazed, her eyes locked on his lips as she waited for him to continue.
“Kat,” he insisted. “Give me this one night.”
He felt her surrender as her body relaxed, leaning against him so he was supporting her weight. He dropped his hands so his arms could wrap around her waist and hold her closer still.
She drew up on tiptoe so now her lips were teasing his. He felt them caress his softly as she whispered, “Just one night.”
Nine
This was a mistake. She should be pushing him away, not leading him on. But dang, he felt so freakin’ good. His arms satisfyingly tight around her as he finally, finally gave her the kiss she’d been longing for since the first moment she’d opened the door and saw him standing there.
His mouth was hot and insistent as it moved over hers.
This is a mistake.
She pushed back before he could deepen the kiss, her breathing erratic as she pressed a hand to his chest and stared at the top button of his shirt like it held all the answers.
But it was just one night. Just one kiss. They’d already spent time together and they’d already shared five kisses. No, six.
Once Upon a Lumberjack Page 9