Page 17 of The Wanderer

He poured himself a large coffee and joined her at the table. The thing was tiny and their knees jostled before she surreptitiously slid her chair back a fraction. That subtle movement away from him confirmed it. She wanted to re-establish distance between them despite going at him behind the pub. Fine, he could do cool and aloof too and as they sipped in silence he inwardly cursed his stupid expectations that arriving early might get them back on solid ground.

When she'd emptied the mug, she set it down and eyeballed him. "Right, now that the caffeine has jumpstarted my brain, what are you doing here so early?"

He couldn’t admit the truth—that he hoped to take the edge off his usual morning boner—so he settled for, "I always scope out a job on the first day before the tradies arrive."

"Bullocks," she said, the English version of bullshit making him grin. "And why are you wearing a suit?"

Damn, he liked how she wasn’t backward in coming forward. Most women he’d been involved with casually would hedge around questions and play stupid mind games that made him lose his shit. Hope was different, but he’d already figured that out considering the way they’d fucked in an alley.

"I'm the boss.” He flicked an imaginary fleck of lint from his lapel in mock fastidiousness. “It pays to make a good impression with the clients."

"You've already done that," she murmured, meeting his eyes without qualm, the jade flecks glowing with unexpected fervour.

"Do tell."

He threw it out there as a challenge, wanting her to articulate how good they'd been together up against that alley wall and how badly she wanted to do it again, like he did. Instead, her gaze slid away and he quelled his disappointment with a gulp of coffee.

"Are we still on track for the job to be finished in two weeks?" She reverted to coolly distant and he wanted to rattle her out of her deliberate temerity so much his teeth ached.

But he settled for an equally sedate, "Absolutely. My men are the best and when we give timelines, we stick to it."

She toyed with a crumb on the table top, her forefinger pushing it around. "Will you be here every day?"

"No."

Fuck this, he never played games and he wasn't about to start now. His hand snaked across the table and covered hers. She jumped and her startled gaze flew to his. "Unless you want me to be."

Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip and his cock twitched. He glimpsed excitement in her eyes before she snatched her hand out from under his.

"No, that's fine, I was just wondering."

Now it was his turn to call bullshit. "What's up with you?"

She focussed on the cupboard above his right shoulder. "Nothing."

"Okay, have it your way."

Disappointed, he stood and headed for the sink, where he dumped the rest of his coffee and rinsed the mug before placing it upside down on the rack to drain.

"Hey." Her hand touched his waist and he resisted the urge to spin around, lift her onto the sink and bury himself in her. "I'm sorry for being an idiot."

"Maybe you can't help being one," he said, turning to find a smile playing about her mouth.

"At the risk of sounding like the idiot you think I am, I don't do well with unexpected outcomes. I'm a planner. I have clear goals and lists. And having sex with you disrupted my plans and my sleep and now seeing you again today makes me loopy and I don't like feeling out of control—"

He slanted his mouth across hers, a soft, tender kiss when he wanted to devour her. But she needed the reassurance and he wasn't an emotionless dickhead who took advantage of a situation.

Because he didn't know her well enough, he'd had no idea her aloofness was a result of confusion. He'd pegged her for a reserved ice princess at the start and assumed she'd reverted to type. If he hadn't been able to get her out of his head all weekend, maybe she'd been the same?

She made a soft mewling soft and slipped her arms up and around his neck, angling her mouth to give him better access. She tasted of coffee with just a hint of vanilla. Delicious, enticing, addictive.

When she pressed against him he claimed her mouth with deeper precision, his hands drifting to her ass, loving the way the globes filled his palms.

She eased away too soon. "I have a room, a miniature recording studio off the main teaching area." Her eyes glittered with intent. "It's soundproof," she added.

Not that it mattered. While it was only the two of them here, he had every intention of making her scream.

"You know I didn't come here early just for this," he said, taking her hand when she offered it. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay between us after what happened at the pub.”

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