Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Damn him.
“No, it doesn’t bother me,” I say softly.
He pushes off my desk. “So what are you making for dinner tonight?”
“That’s not at all random.”
“You said you like to cook, so I was wondering what you make on a random Tuesday night.”
“I have no clue. I haven’t been able to give it much thought. Probably whatever is in my fridge.”
He smiles. “I know this little place not too far from here where—”
“Tate.”
“What?”
“No.”
He sighs, frowning. “You’ve single-handedly turned me down more than every other woman in my twenty-seven years combined.”
“You’re twenty-seven?” Oh God.
“Yeah.” His brows tug together. “What’s the big deal? How old did you think I was?”
“Honestly, I’ve intentionally not thought about it.”
“As in, you made a point to not think about it because you care or because you don’t care?”
I cover my face with my hands and release a long sigh.
“You realize I’m an adult, right?” he asks, grinning.
I drop my hands. “Yes, I realize that. That wasn’t my concern. My concern was the age gap between us and just how excessive it might be because I don’t really love feeling that much older than you.”
“You’re older than me?”
I flash him a look that earns me a mischievous grin. “You know damn good and well that I’m older than you.”
“You’re under the wrong assumption that I’ve given your age a lot of thought. I’d rather be thinking about doing very, very dirty things to that delectable body of yours and not two numbers denoting how many years you’ve walked on Earth. That’s far less interesting.”
My body reacts to him without my permission. Heat pools in my cheeks and my core, and my breaths begin to tremble. My heart pounds as all internal systems prepare for an encounter it’s not going to get.
“Look at you,” he says just loud enough for me to hear. “This is how I have to get the truth out of you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You may lie to me, but your body? It doesn’t, and it really likes me, Aurora.”
Hearing my name—my real name—slip past his lips in a sentence so heady rips down the shield I’ve been trying to hold steady.
I keep dancing around the truth, and all that’s getting me is peppered with questions. I’m not sure if he’s seeing how much it’ll take to get me to crack, or maybe he likes watching me squirm. Either way, if I level with him, perhaps we can find a way to work through this predicament we’ve found ourselves in.
“Okay, Mr. Brewer.” I look him in the eyes. “Let’s just put it all out on the table and get it over with.”
“Like we did the other night, or …”
God. I lick my bottom lip. “I find you insanely attractive.”
His eyes shift to my favorite emerald-green hue.
“I replay last weekend over and over in my head. And if things were different—if I were different, if we were different ages—I’d entertain you and your theatrics. But things are not different, Tate. There are numerous reasons this can’t work, and to add to that, I now work for you. It’s probably illegal for us to even be having this conversation right now.”
He snorts. “You clearly haven’t met my family. Three of my brothers married women they worked with, and my sister married her bodyguard. I’m not sure if that means we work too much or what, but it does seem to work out for us.” He laughs. “My point in telling you this is that I assure you there’s no handbook violation. My brother Jason is too much of a rule follower. He would’ve had that section removed before he touched his assistant.”
I laugh at the tenderness with which he discusses his family.
I’ve wondered many times what it would be like to have a large family. I often felt alone growing up. My parents were always at the church, working on sermons or leading a class. They hauled me with them. So instead of growing up with siblings or even a large group of similarly aged kids, I grew up with older people who thought children should be seen and not heard.
For the briefest moment, I again imagine Tate as a father, and my heart doubles in size.
“Why won’t you give me a chance, Aurora?”
His features are smooth and sober. Long gone is the playfulness and mischief I’m used to seeing on his face. He’s serious, and that takes my breath away.
The least I can do is be honest with him.
“I’m too scared,” I say, shrugging like I just told him the sky was blue. I may look nonchalant, but my insides break open as I speak my truth aloud.
He stills. “You’re scared of me?”
“I’m scared of you. I’m scared of me. I’m scared of even considering falling for someone again. Not that that’s what you’re asking me to do, of course. I’m not implying that you’ve somehow fallen for me in such a short period because that would be ridiculous.”