Page 36 of More Than Words

“Yes, I got your wine. Where are your glasses?”

Isobel pulled open the container with her meal and inhaled, a satisfied smile crossing her face as she let out a tiny moan. I could appreciate a woman who liked food as much as she did.

“Do I need to leave you two alone?” I teased as she reluctantly returned the container to the table and walked toward me.

“While I’d love to have the satisfaction of kicking you out of my apartment, you brought my favorite wine, and you got me carbs, so I’ll let you stay…for now. But I reserve the right to push you out the door if you start that arrogant bullshit you get away with at the office.”

“Fair enough,” I chuckled, stepping to the side as she passed me. I followed a few steps behind, watching while she pulled cutlery from a drawer next to her tiny dishwasher. She opened an upper cabinet, pushing up onto her tiptoes, the muscles in her calves drawing my eyes as they flexed. “I’ll make sure not to tell you how much I’m enjoying your shorts. If you could call them that.”

My eyes slowly trailed up the back of her legs, lingering on the swell of her ass as it peeked out from beneath the hem of her shorts. She may have joked about not being in shape like she was in back in high school but combined with the curves of her hips and the long lines of her legs, she was hotter than she realized. The clothes she wore at work hinted at some insane curves, and the glimpses I’d gotten of her while we were in Maine were enough to want more, but I wasn’t sure where we were now.

“Are you still staring at my ass?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder with the stem of a wine glass balanced between her fingers.

“Are you surprised? We’ve had this conversation before. You know I’m fond of the scenery.”

Isobel rolled her eyes as she pulled down a second glass, gently setting both on the counter. I knew being around me bothered her now. We hadn’t talked about what had happened at the conference. Not really. Just me teasing her and pissing her off. I didn’t like that there was this tension between us. I wanted to get to know her better. While I may not have been in touch with all my emotions, I knew that the feelings she stirred up in me weren’t just physical attraction. That was currently a large part of it, but she was kind—to everyone but me—and she was funny.

“Keep it in your pants, Casanova. We’re here to work. You just insisted on inviting yourself over. Try not to look so needy.”

Taking another step forward, I placed my hand on the counter next to her, careful not to touch her, but close enough that she could touch me if she wanted to. And damn, I hoped she wanted to. “You could have said no to me. It wouldn’t be the first time. I think you want to talk about what’s happening between us. Or maybe the problem is you don’t just want to talk.”

“There is no us, Adrian. I was temporarily shown a different side of you, and I had a lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again.”

Testing her boundaries, I traced a lone curl at the back of her neck, my fingers lingering at the collar of her sweater. “You keep saying that, but I’ve seen how you look at me. It was more than just a lapse in judgment.”

Her shoulders heaved as she took a deep breath and turned to face me, her expression guarded as she looked up into my eyes. “Being attracted to someone doesn’t mean I like who they are as a person. And you haven’t convinced me that the bizarro world Adrian was real. As soon as we got back to the office, you were back to the arrogant comments.”

“Was I?” I asked, knowing I’d been tamer lately besides our confrontation in the stairwell. “Or have you convinced yourself that I was?”

Her palm settled into the center of my chest, causing me to pull in a surprised breath, my hands clenching at my side with the urge to touch her.

“You called my authors mommy porn writers. Not exactly on your best behavior.”

Narrowing my eyes and clenching my jaw to hold in my gut reaction, I took another deep breath and tried to relax. “And you were implying my author was going to sexually harass yours. Was that you being on your best behavior?”

It was her turn to clench her jaw as she reached behind her and grasped the wine glasses, brushing past me to put them on the table beside the bottle of wine.

“Not going to admit you sometimes say things in poor taste just as I do?”

Her movements were agitated as she grabbed an electric wine opener from the counter, centering it on the bottle and pressing the button to remove the cork from the bottle.

“Don’t even try to compare me to you. When I met you, the first words out of your mouth would be considered sexual harassment by most people. I didn’t even know you.”

Thinking back to when I’d first met Isobel, I frowned while I tried to remember what she was talking about. I know I’d noticed her before she noticed me, but what could I have said that caused her to hate me this much?

“Fine. Since you don’t even remember what you say to people,” she huffed while she poured wine into one of the glasses, then turned toward me using the half full glass to gesture in my direction. “You told me you could handle fixing the copy machine by yourself, because you weren’t sure my sexy skirt would allow it.”

Fuck.

I remembered her walking in on me berating the copy machine my first week at work. I chuckled as I recalled the look on her face when she’d caught me, slightly amused, a bit arrogant and a lot knowing.

“And you’re laughing about your shitty behavior. Real attractive, Adrian.”

“That’s why you hate me?” I laughed, shaking my head.

“You were a dick from the moment you met me.”

Stepping forward and grabbing the wine bottle from the table, I poured myself half a glass, earning narrowed eyes from Isobel.

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