by Katie Fox
My mouth fell open, ready to defend the man who had managed to worm his way under my skin, the man I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since I left the office four hours ago. Kyle was wrong, so incredibly wrong. I had witnessed firsthand Owen making other people’s happiness a priority, the way he had offered hope in a set of eyes that had been subjected to nothing but hopelessness in this cruel and unforgiving world. He may have been miserable, and perhaps he was a prick, but there was a reason for his actions, and now more than ever, I wanted to discover why.
Kyle continued with his slander, and I looked away, no longer caring what spewed out of his mouth. My gaze wandered around the packed bar and then down to the watch strapped to my wrist. Nine p.m. It was time to go. I’d had enough of my new social life for the evening. Grabbing my purse, I turned to Jill to make my excuses for leaving, but from the corner of my eye, I caught the silhouette of a tall figure approaching us from a distance.
My movements stilled.
My pulse quickened.
Owen.
His green eyes latched onto mine, and under the dim lights, they looked even more mesmerizing. Free of his usual business attire, he was dressed in a pair of dark faded jeans and a fitted black T-shirt that clung to a chest full of lean muscle, and I couldn’t help but drink in every delicious ounce of him. I was a woman dying of thirst, and in a bar filled with every beverage imaginable, he was the drink I desperately needed, wanted. Everything faded out as he came closer, everything except the sound of Kyle’s voice, and my throat clogged with unformed words.
Kyle brought his bottle of beer to his mouth, stopping only to release another insult at the very man who now stood directly behind him. “Someone please shove a lamp up Caldwell’s ass, maybe then he’ll lighten the fuck up.” A rumble of a laughter erupted from his throat, while the rest of us sat quietly, unamused.
A nervous rhythm altered the beats of my heart as we all waited for the next interaction to unfold.
Kyle’s brows narrowed in confusion at our lack of reaction, and he curiously turned around. The ball in his throat moved on a slow bob as he swallowed, his eyes widening. “Hey, man. You made it.” He clapped Owen on the shoulder. “We were just talking about you.”
Owen’s gaze drifted slowly around the table before flicking to mine, and there was a hint of sadness that flashed in his green pools.
Oh God. That look. Why did that look affect me so much?
“Yeah. I can see that.” Giving us all a harsh shake of his head, he turned and started back in the direction he had come from, and I quickly reached into my purse and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table before rising from my seat in a rush to chase after him. His long strides were a challenge to match, and the bodies blocking my every step had my blood boiling with impatience and frustration. I hated bars. My shoulders collided with several others as I maneuvered through the crowd, and as I reached the door he had exited, I bolted into the cool night air. He was a half a block away, his hands shoved in his pockets and his feet moving at an unrelenting pace.
“Owen! Wait!”
I took off in a sprint, my mind awhirl with thoughts of only him. His reaction to Kyle’s remark and the way he’d looked at me as if it were my mouth releasing the damage had panic twisting my insides. Today, I’d left the office hopeful that our interactions going forward would be smoother, that maybe we’d be able to get along, find common ground. One assumption, one glance, and all that hope had vanished.
The soles of my flats pounded against the concrete as I hurried past the row of shops, many now closed at the late hour, and I called out to him again, louder this time. “Owen!”
Ignoring me, he carried on, and I ran faster, dodging the cracks in the sidewalk made noticeable by the pale white glow of the street lamps. Several cars sped past me on the street, the sound of their roaring engines matching the whooshing of blood in my ears. Finally gaining on him, I made a last attempt to get his attention, to make him stop and listen to what I had to say. “Owen, would you please stop!”
His feet halted. The rest of his body jerked forward with the abrupt movement, and he whipped around, that handsome face of his contorted with anger. “What? What do you want? Because quite honestly, I have nothing to say to you.”
My chest heaved from exertion, his harsh words rivaling the harshness of my breaths, and I resisted the recoil from their forceful impact. He was hurt, clearly, and I tried not to take it personal. Coming to a stop in front of him, I licked my lips and inhaled deeply through my nose. “I didn't… I wasn't…”
Holy moly, was I out of shape.
I dragged in another mouthful of air, feeling the burn in my lungs and struggling to release it on a controlled exhale. “You came.” They were the only two words I managed. The only thought that had filled my head and my heart the second I caught sight of him inside of the bar.
He studied me for a long, drawn-out moment, his eyes moving over every inch of my face, and his expression softened, if for only but a second. “Yeah. I did.”
“I thought it wasn't your scene.”
The muscle along his jaw ticked, and he looked away from me, squinting as he focused on something in the distance. City nightlife surrounded us, so alive and vibrant, and I wasn’t sure if he was simply taking it all in or using it to drown me out. I'd place my bets on the latter.
“Yeah, well, I thought it wasn't yours either.”
I clamped my mouth shut to prevent myself from bursting out my true reason for being there, my deep hidden hope that he would’ve made an appearance because as much as he stabbed at my nerves, pricking them to the point of frustration, I wanted to be near him. I wanted to know him. And that alone was wrong for so many different reasons. “So why did you come?”
Reaching up, he massaged the back of his neck and let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Elle. Beats the hell out of me.”
Disappointment clawed at my chest at his answer, but I pushed it away. He wasn't there for me, and the irrational hope that he was quickly waned as reality and the sound of his voice brought me back to the moment.
“What about you? Why are you here?”
I let out a depressing laugh and shrugged. God. Drew was freaking right. This wasn't me. I needed to return my lame ass home and continue writing my story. The characters may have been imaginary, but at least they were entertaining. “I don't know. Perhaps I was tired of being home and I thought it would be a good idea to come out and get to know everyone.”
“Everyone including Lawson.”
The words fell from his mouth sounding like a question, but I wasn't sure, and something about the way he said them, as if he were jealous and fearful of my response, quickened the beats of my heart. Unmoving, I opted for the truth, part of it anyway. Telling him that he was the only person I had any real interest in getting to know didn’t seem like a smart thing to do. “Lawson’s an asshole.”
Surprised by my bluntness, Owen stood, a look of shock racing across his expression before a breath-stealing grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
Oh God. He was even more beautiful when he smiled.
“Yeah, well...” He reached up again, this time dragging his hand through his hair as the muscles in his arm tensed with the movement. “I could have saved you a trip and told you that.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
There was no stopping the chuckle that floated from my mouth nor the twisting of my insides as his smile widened.
.
IF THERE WAS anything I learned while standing there with Elle, it was that I’d never get tired of hearing her laugh. The soft throaty chuckle that escaped her lips at my words was a sound I was desperate for her to make again.
And again.
And again.
Still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, we both looked around, deciding what to do next. I wasn’t ready to leave her, and it was clear neither of us had the desire to return to McGrady’s. “Do you…” I tossed my thumb over my
shoulder, pointing in the direction I’d originally been heading. “Do you want to take a walk?”
She contemplated, only for a moment. “Yeah. I think I do.” She smiled softly and took a couple steps forward, meeting me at my side as we both turned and carried on down the block in unhurried strides.
The gentle breeze blew across our faces, lifting her silky blonde strands from her shoulders and whirling the scent of her perfume through the air, straight to my nose. I closed my eyes, inhaling the sweet smell and losing myself in the unusual comfort it seemed to provide.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice cut through my Elle-induced haze.
“Go for it. Can’t promise I’ll be an open book.”
“Why do you let him talk to you like that? I don't understand. You give me such a hard time, and from what I’ve seen, you’re not the type of person to be walked over.”
I sighed, knowing my actions toward her had been harsh and unjust. “Elle, I give you a hard time because I want you to succeed. And as far as Lawson is concerned, I don’t expect you to understand. He's been with the company for years. He's good at his job and he—”
“So what? That automatically gives him the right to be a self-absorbed dickhead?”
I held back a laugh, secretly loving the fight she constantly dealt. “It means I don’t have the desire nor the energy to engage in his frivolous antics. And Lord knows I don’t want to waste any more time sitting through another interview.”
“Is that why you hired me? Because you were tired of sitting through interviews?”
“Partially. Yes.” I didn’t elaborate—not right away—and my lack of further explanation caused Elle to stiffen. She folded her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from my words and looked out at the street, watching the cars as they zoomed by. We walked a few more feet in awkward, tension-filled silence, and I stopped, cupping my hand under her elbow and gently turning her toward me. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and her bright blue eyes were a clouded window of—sadness? Insecurity?
Had I hurt her feelings?
I swallowed around the uncomfortable knot in my throat and stared down at where our bodies were connected, where my fingers lingered on her silken skin. The warmth of it bled into my veins, heating my blood, and I resisted the urge to drag my palms across every smooth inch. “I saw something in you…something I admired.” Licking my lips, I gingerly lifted my gaze. My eyes met hers, and my voice left me on an unsure exhale. “I saw something I knew I’d never see again, and I wasn’t ready to let go of that—let go of you. I wasn’t ready to lose what could possibly be the best thing to ever happen to Caldwell Publishing.”
Elle's body turned rigid.
My admission sounded far more emotional than I intended, but as those thick, full lashes of hers fluttered up in equal parts shock and delight, I didn’t want to take any of it back. Not the way my heart hammered against my ribs or the way her chest stopped mid-rise, her breath catching in her throat. And I sure as hell didn’t want to take back the way she looked at me: as if I’d promised her the entire world and all the miracles that came with it.
God, what I wouldn’t do for a miracle.
Elle’s gaze remained on my face, and my fingers itched with the need to reach up and glide over the apples of her cheeks with the shade of pink that bloomed out of nowhere.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
I opened my mouth to tell her, but the thought never made it off my tongue. Everything vanished into thin air as I watched the only woman to ever own a piece of my heart walk toward us. I hadn't seen Sarah in over a year—four years since our breakup—and while my feelings for her had long since seized, she was a reminder of the life I could have had. It was hard not to look at her and see my past, the regrets that now haunted me. Panic rolled in like a fast-moving tornado as she came closer to where Elle and I stood, and I grabbed Elle’s arm, dragging her a few feet while searching frantically for an open shop to duck into. I didn't want the awkwardness of a run-in, and I certainly didn't want to have to explain who she was and how I knew her.
“Owen, what—”
Shit. Nothing was opened at this time of night, and with no other choice but to remain visible, I spun her around and pressed her back against the nearest building, moving in until our chests were flush and our hips were aligned. My body melded right into her softness, like two puzzle pieces made for a perfect fit, and I rested my forearm above her head against the brick wall. Lowering my chin, I dropped my forehead to hers in order to shield both our faces from any passersby and, hopefully, Sarah.
Elle stared at me, wide-eyed and confused, her voice a breathy whisper. “Wha—what are you doing?”
What was I doing?
My initial intention had been a game of avoidance, but now that my lips hovered above her set of full ones, the warmth of her breath teasing and taunting me, daring me to make a move, my motive changed.
I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to slide my hands through the silky strands of her blonde hair and dip my tongue into that smart, sexy mouth—discover if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. My blood rushed south at the mere thought causing me to harden in my jeans, and judging by the way Elle's mouth parted on a small gasp, she was no stranger to my reaction.
She felt the way she affected me.
Tilting her head back, she glanced up. Our gazes locked. Something that looked a lot like lust swirled behind hers, and I resisted the strong urge to rock my hips into hers. Timidly, she reached out, pressing her palms against my lower torso. The heat of her hands penetrated right through the thin cotton of my shirt, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Elle.”
Jesus.
My voice sounded desperate, and the hand that still rested above her head clenched into a tight fist to control the sudden surge of desire pulsing through me. My entire body was ablaze, the blood in my veins turning to molten lava as her fingers slid beneath the hem of my shirt, their soft tips grazing the sensitive skin on my lower stomach, before gliding along the trail of dark hair that led to the button of my jeans.
Was she aching for me as badly as I was for her?
I opened my eyes to see if I could catch a glimpse of anything she might be feeling, an indication she wanted me to take whatever it was we were doing a step further, and as our gazes reconnected, she let out three small words that froze me in place.
“I saw you.”
I saw you?
My brow twitched in confusion. “What?”
“At Rosie’s. Last night. I saw you come into the diner with the gentleman from the shelter. I watched as you bought him dinner and then gave him money as you walked him out.”
My body, which had been engulfed in flames seconds ago, was now ice cold. I pushed away from the wall, adding a greater amount of distance between myself and the woman I’d been burning for, aching with a painful need to get close to.
My eyes narrowed as I stared at her in disbelief, the muscle along my jaw thrumming in slight irritation. “Were you spying on me?”
"No, Owen." She shook her head, her response spilling from her mouth in a rush. “No. I go there normally on Friday nights, but after work yesterday, I decided to stop in and have dinner. I had no idea you were going to be there.”
An eternity felt like it passed as I stood there, at a loss for words, no longer caring about the possibility of Sarah walking by and seeing us. My brain was too busy trying to process the fact that Elle had seen me, watched me from afar, and hadn't said anything about it.
Is that why today had felt different between us?
After the way I’d treated her yesterday, she gifted me with a kindness I wasn’t expecting. Had that been the reason behind her generous offer of coffee, and the smiles, and—ah, fuck, it was.
An agitated puff of air left my chest, and I looked away, feeling sick. Elle had witnessed a side of me I refused to show anyone else and knowing that she did twisted my insides. My Tuesday evening ritual had been something I kept to
myself. Not even Millie knew about my time spent at the homeless shelter or with its residents. It was my own personal slice of—hell, I didn’t even know—redemption, maybe? Perhaps it was my way of giving back to the community, making my life feel like it had meaning, purpose. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t knowledge I wanted shared, especially not with Elle. Questions would be asked, or worse, it’d lead her to believe I was some kind of saving grace, and I wasn’t.
Not at all.
“You know what?” I took a step back and shook my head. This was stupid. Coming out tonight, allowing myself to feel things for this woman, was completely stupid. “Just forget what you saw, okay? It didn’t happen. Last night didn’t happen. This night didn’t happen.” Ignoring the wounded expression on her face, I sighed and turned on my heels. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
And then I walked off.
Leaving her standing there in stunned silence, I told myself it was better this way. I was her boss, for fuck’s sake, and if that wasn’t reason enough to leave her alone, to keep my distance, there were one hundred more waiting to back it up.
I carried on for half a block before the sound of her feet slapping against the concrete followed behind me.
“Why do you do that, huh? Why are you so afraid of letting people see the good in you? You walk around like some miserable prick, barking commands as if your world is ending, and I don't understand why. You’re a good person, Owen.”
I stopped in my tracks and whirled around, her body nearly colliding with mine as we both came to a sudden standstill. “You don’t know me! You don’t know—”
“I know what I saw!” Her tone rivaled mine in depth and intensity, and she moved closer, both of our chests rising and falling in the same unsteady pattern. “And I know what I see, even now as it stands right in front of me.”
And what did she see? A broken man she was desperate to save? If so, I had news for her: there was no saving me. Not unless she was capable of performing a miracle, and I was pretty sure the world was fresh out of those.