Her lips curved up as he took a pen and signed it. This moment was big for Blakeley A&D—for her. Deep down, she knew accepting this job would open up greater opportunities for her and her company. It was something Eric didn’t understand.
“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now that my ink’s on the paper?”
She glanced up to see him watching her. His nearness caused what felt like a thousand tiny shivers to sweep down her arms. Her head filled with his scent, and she drank it in. “Not at all.”
“I'm glad you dropped by today.”
“Me, too.”
One of those moments of awkward silence snuck in between them.
“Thanks again, Mr. Cutter.” Vow. Remember the vow. But when he leaned closer, she didn’t retreat.
“We’re way past the Mr. and Miss, don’t you think?”
The deep tenor of his voice heated her skin. His spacious office closed in with the attraction she'd fought for weeks, and the difference between here and the lobby was instant. It was Jase Cutter. And right now, every inch of the room was filled with him. His overwhelming presence. His cologne. That piercing stare.
“I'm not sure what we are.”
She felt as much as saw his hazel eyes study her own for several pounding heartbeats, before his gaze dropped to where their fingers almost touched on the desk. A crushing desire to close the space keeping them apart rushed her veins.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night in Idaho.”
Her resolve frayed to a solitary thread with his confession, but she clung to it. “Jase. We—”
Her breath hitched as he tucked her hair behind one ear, his fingers brushing her skin, just like he’d done on the steps all those weeks ago. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to tread water and not drown completely in the warmth of his touch. Only, the spicy, woodsy scent that was all him taunted her, and she leaned in the slightest bit. And then she made the mistake of placing her hand over his heart. There was no confusing the wild rhythm against her palm. She gathered the fabric beneath her fingers but kept him there and looked up into his face.
“Madison.” His voice was full of questions, but his eyes shone with hope, a hope she knew reflected in her own eyes.
She held perfectly still as his head dipped down, but his lips didn't meet hers like she expected. Instead, they found the soft spot at her temple. He trailed kisses along her cheek and then lightly kissed the corner of her mouth, first one side, then the other.
Her skin tingled from the feather-light touches, but her lips burned when at last he sought her mouth with his own. Their softness contradicted the heat of that single, perfect moment, and her fingers slipped around his arms as his hands circled her waist.
Too soon he broke away. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I held you like this.”
She remembered that night at the gala when she’d run into him—how desperate she'd been for a chance at the restoration. That she'd be standing in his office, his warm eyes drinking her in like they were, never crossed her mind after the way that night ended.
And then reality slapped her. “We shouldn't do this.”
He slipped his fingers through hers. “Why not?”
“Because we’re working together.” She tried to catch an even breath as he stared—at her eyes, her lips.
He wanted this. The way his arms flexed as he tightened his hold on her hands—he wanted more than designs, meetings, and bridled conversations. He wanted more. But he also wanted it to be her call…
She framed his face as she touched her lips to his, but the sound of clapping startled her, and they both spun to find Natasha in the doorway. A harsh smile adorned the woman’s red lips, but her eyes held a reflection of something resembling sorrow.
“Well played, Blakeley. Well played.”
The bite in Natasha’s words left a cold trail on Madison’s skin, where seconds before was warmth. She had no clue how long Simon’s sister had stood there, but, from her expression, she hadn't just stumbled in.
Jase appeared unfazed beyond his tensed shoulders. “What do you need, Nat?”
She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, glancing between them. “You might want to talk to your receptionist about leaving her desk.”
“And, you might try knocking next time.”
Natasha ignored him and brushed a loose curl over one shoulder, her large earrings the same blaring red as her nails. “My brother told me all about you joining the restoration. No one can say you aren’t determined.”
Madison clamped her jaw shut, not willing to give the woman’s goading the satisfaction it begged for.
“You know, Jase, I take my advice back. The two of you really could be great for each other. You can’t do permanent or real when it comes to women, and you”—she pointed one of her fake nails at Madison—“only want your company under the spotlight. It’s perfect.”
“I think you should leave,” he said.
Natasha snorted, but there was hurt behind the gesture. “What? Am I wrong? You’re no longer the broken man I knew?” She stared at him and then sank into an exaggerated half-curtsey. “Forgive me. I wish you both the best.”
Backing up toward the doorway, the blonde adjusted her purse over her shoulder, her fingers shaking as she fumbled with the strap. When she spoke, her voice carried a hint of the same tremble. “I only came to see if you wanted to grab a late lunch. Possibly…catch up this time.”
Without the rigid posture and waspish accusations, Jase’s old college friend was quite beautiful. And hurting. For a moment, Madison felt sorry for her. But only a moment. The sting of the woman’s clap still hadn’t left her ears.
“Another time, then.” Natasha stepped through the doorway and headed to the elevator, exchanging places with Jase’s assistant as she held the sliding doors.
“What did she want?” Penny asked, balancing several folders in her arms. “Oh, and I've picked up those documents from downstairs you asked for. Paul from security says hello.” But her sweet smile tripped over the charged silence. “I’ll just…put these away.”
She backed out of the office and shut the door behind her. The sound echoed thickly as Madison faced Jase, but he didn’t reach for her. Not right away, and those few seconds of hesitation hit her square in the stomach.
Her thoughts blurred along with her vision, and she didn't know what to say or where to look. “Um, I should go.”
“Wait. I’m sorry. I…”
She blinked, mortified, as more moisture pricked the corners of her eyes. “It’s fine. Promise. I’ll get those changes drawn up and sent over as soon as I can.” She scurried around the desk, scooped up her bag, and had the door pulled open before he could stop her.
Skipping the elevator, she headed straight for the stairs; her pulse hammered with each concrete step. Why had she let him kiss her?
Why did I kiss him back?
Two floors from the bottom, she gripped the cold metal railing, knowing why. She hadn't just fallen in love with that remote little piece of Idaho. She'd fallen for its owner.
Sagging against the rail, Madison begged her mind to make sense of what happened, but confusion and embarrassment cut her off at every corner, making it impossible to grasp at anything useful. What made it all worse was the way Natasha's words ate at her, their relentlessness gnawing and gnawing.
Except, that isn’t true.
Jase’s flicker of doubt had hurt worse.
She compelled her feet to carry her down the last two flights. As she pushed her way outside of the building, she found the bright rays of midday like pokes of a needle to her heart. At that moment, her tender feelings were only capable of holding gloom.
Chapter Seventeen
Madison parked in her usual spot behind Blakeley A&D and headed inside, the thirty-minute drive from Jase’s office not nearly enough time to collect herself. There'd been too many emotions to navigate on the way home after Natasha's ill-timed entrance.
“So? How'd it go?”
Eric’s unexpected voice had her hand at her heart, but when she glanced up to the familiar face of her friend, the words that had dogged her the whole drive back, spilled out. “I'm such an idiot.”
He followed her into her office and took his hands from his pockets like he might pull her into a hug but, instead, folded his arms and leaned against her desk. “Pretty sure you’re the least idiotic person I know.”
“Not today.”
“What happened?”
She hesitated.
“Does this have to do with Cutter?”
The edge to his voice made her feel a little better, but she slumped against the desk next to him. “No… Maybe.” A miserable laugh escaped her lips.
“You gotta give me more here, Mads.”
She smiled at his use of her nickname, something he hadn’t called her in weeks, but she couldn’t tell him the details. “Why is everything so complicated?” She brought her fingers to her lips, where the taste of Jase’s kiss lingered, then she jumped when Eric swore.
He raked a hand through his hair as he moved toward the window only to swing back around. “Seriously? You and him?”
Her eyes widened. “No, it’s not what—”
“I warned you about guys like him. I told you.”
His reaction cut deep, further twisting Natasha’s razor-sharp words. The implication she'd been taken in hurt to hear, whether true or not. “It isn’t like that.”
“No?”
She blinked back her emotions as the comfort she'd hoped to find in him quickly washed away in his overt anger.
Eric picked up a local magazine off her desk and jabbed a finger at the cover. “Look at him. Everyone can see the guy relishes his single status. He flaunts it. Parades every woman he’s dated. As in past tense, Mads. The guy doesn’t do serious. He’s a rich, selfish… You’re not his kind. His interest in you can’t be real.”
She reeled back at the personal assault and then went numb. Walking past him, she stood by her open door, a silent demand for him to leave. He slapped the magazine on her desk and strode out, the backdoor slamming as she sank onto her chair.
The magazine sat askew as if too eager to mock the last hour of her life. Madison didn’t pick it up, only stared at the man smiling back—and the woman next to him with feathers in her hair. Even for his companion’s outlandish hairband, they stunned. So much so, it hurt to linger on them, on the way they leaned into each other, cheek to cheek, the gorgeous dress that embraced the woman’s beautiful shape, or Jase’s jaw cut at just the right angle. His lips.
Those soft lips that are heaven.
With one blunt shove, the magazine thudded in the trash, the loud clang charging through her office. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the tiny, misshapen, patched together mug on the edge of her desk. The one she’d made for her dad in the fourth grade. She’d begged to take it with them everywhere, despite her dad’s warning it could break. She remembered thinking how silly he was. Her whole heart was in that mug. She’d never let it fall. Except, one night she’d tripped on the lamp cord in their living room, and it had clattered to the floor, breaking into several chunky pieces.
Those were tears she’d never forget, but she learned something that day. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to keep things together, no matter your good intentions, things can fall apart. They break. And right now, her life felt a lot like a million tiny pieces of broken pottery lying on the floor.
Lost clients. A teetering friendship. Broken promises to herself. Falling for a guy completely wrong for her but who felt so right. Being wholly and utterly alone.
A million.
Tiny.
Pieces.
“Can we talk.”
Madison whipped her head up to see Jase in her doorway.
Sarah edged past him, her eyes wide as her gaze darted between them. “I’m sorry. I tried to tell him to wait.”
“It’s fine.” Madison stood and wiped her fingers under her eyes.
Her receptionist hesitated then lowered her voice a notch. “But I heard you and Eric, and—”
Jase’s gaze didn’t waver from her.
“Really, it’s fine. Give us a minute, okay?” She swallowed and willed her pulse to calm as Sarah backed out of the room, leaving them alone.
“Madison.” Deep lines framed the corners of his eye, as if he'd had ten restless nights.
For one crazy moment, she wanted to reach out and smooth them away. She wanted his arms around her, for him to draw her close and tell her she was wrong, that what was happening between them was real, and safe, and not just for the moment.
Then Natasha's clapping filled her ears, along with those few, gut-tearing seconds of hesitation in Jase’s eyes after Penny had left them alone. But, even for all of that, there was her promise to herself, her vow to keep things strictly professional with him.
The one I completely broke.
“I’m sorry for what happened back there.”
She flinched, and anger boiled up and burned her throat, surprising her as much as the question that came with it, and words she hadn’t realized mattered, slipped out. “For kissing me or letting me walk away?”
He dropped her gaze.
“I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else.” She took a step back, catching sight of the magazine in the trash bin. “I knew who you were.”
Jerking like he’d been slapped, he pointed at her. “You're a better person than that.”
She blinked several times as a whisper pushed past the lump crowding her throat. “Am I? We barely know each other.”
The air shifted as he moved closer, like gravity required they be in the same space. “We know each other better than you think.”
She raised her chin at the way his words countered his actions earlier but hugged her arms around her middle. “What do you want me to say?”
He touched her arm only to pull his hand back. “You want the truth?”
“I think we both deserve that.”
“I want you to say you don’t regret what happened. Because, I don’t.”
A spark of that thrill from before in his office settled around the edges of her heart, but the way his lashes guarded his eyes kept it from spreading. “But?”
His jaw worked against what she suspected was another truth. One she didn’t want to hear, and she rubbed her arms against a chill that rose from the inside, her fingers brushing the raised, thin line of her scar. It was hard to believe their time together in Idaho was so long ago.
“Natasha was right.” His voice wasn’t quite a whisper but rough all the same. “I’m no good for this. And I’m sorry.”
Words telling him he was wrong were on the tip of her tongue, but they didn’t fall. She inhaled, clinging to the hint of turpentine that still lingered in her new office. In the distance through the window, Torrey Pines dotted the shoreline where waves broke against the warm sand of La Jolla.
My fresh start.
All of it stared her down, throwing back her vow to herself in echoes. Keep it professional. Chase your dreams…
A laugh fell from her lips, but it was small and held no humor. “Maybe it isn’t a coincidence we keep getting interrupted. I think…professional lines would be better for both of us.”
He took her hand in his but didn’t tug her closer. “No regrets?”
She glanced to where the warmth of his hand enveloped hers and tightened her grip before letting go. “No regrets.”
“So. Business colleagues.”
She nodded but swayed the tiniest bit, as if she’d stepped off a merry-go-round. For doing what she thought was right, there was a terrible gaping hole inside of her.
****
Jase’s feet hammered the sand, his pulse rushing his ears. His lungs burned, but he pushed through another mile before slowing and coming to a stop. He yanked out his earbuds then grabbed the hem of his shirt and wiped the perspiration from his face as his muscles laughed at him from his glutes to h
is calves. This was the first decent run he’d had in weeks, and his body was letting him know it.
His phone buzzed, but like the past four times, he ignored it. Whatever Simon wanted, he wasn’t in the mood to hear, not after the day’s fiasco with the man’s sister.
Dropping to the dry sand, he rested his forearms on bent knees while his breathing evened out. His thoughts were a different beast, though, and not as easy to tame. Like the scavenger birds tearing into the garbage up the shore, his last conversation with Madison picked at him relentlessly.
Shoving his hands in the sand, he lifted the tiny granules. What didn’t stick to his skin spilled between his fingers.
Business colleagues.
He fisted another handful, ignoring the pain in his palm from something sharp.
No regrets.
His eye twitched, but he pulled in a deep breath. A calm breath. One to center him. Choosing the professional side of the fence with his new architect was the right choice, and he’d been a fool to consider otherwise. Because anything more would only lead to disappointment. To more things left broken…
Jase opened his fist to a jagged piece of shell mocking him. He chucked it, scattering every bird within thirty feet, and grunted, causing two kids to steer extra clear of him as they dragged their buckets toward the water.
Out on the horizon, the sun was making its last show for the night over the water, but the colors barely registered in his mind as they faded to gray. When his phone buzzed again, he wiped his hands along his shorts, brushing off as much sand as possible before yanking his cell from where it was strapped to his arm. He didn’t even try for a filter as he answered on the last ring. “This is Cutter.”
“I think I may have the wrong number.”
“Penny?”
“That depends on your current mood.”
He cracked a faint smile. “Does it now?”
“Where are you? You sound distant.”
“On the beach. Decided to take a run to clear my head.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is it cleared?”
His scoff sent a few more birds flying, and he absently picked up more broken bits of shell and tossed them. “Actually, no. It's not.”
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