Page 9 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

“I repeat, don’t you have work?” she asks.

But I wave her concerns away. “What’s the fun in owning your own business if you can’t take advantage of your time to sit with a beautiful woman on a Wednesday afternoon?”

“Okay,” she drawls with another eyeroll, as she tries to suppress her smile, “but surely there are things that need to be done.”

“That’s what my staff are for.”

She sighs and shakes her head, leaning back and finally lifting her hands to take out her bun. “I give up, have it your way.”

I watch with a certain amount of anticipation as she lets her hair down. I always look forward to this little ritual of hers. Maybe it’s because I know that’s she’s doing it for me, whether she realizes it or not.

“As long as you don’t blame me if you suddenly go into ruin because you weren’t at the office today.”

As her sandy waves tumble down over her shoulders, glinting gold in the sunlight pouring through the window, I smile.

“You have the loveliest hair,” I murmur, reaching over to curl a lock around my finger briefly before moving back again. “It looks like honey in the sunlight.”

She pauses, her cheeks tinging pink as she stares at me, the sight of which does interesting things to my body.

“Olistaire…”

“Yes?”

She crosses her arms, lifts her chin, and purses her lips. “I’m not fucking you.”

I can’t help it. I burst into laughter at her response, which has her pursed lips twitching upwards at the corners.

“Well, alrighty, then!” I prop my elbows on the table as our coffee and cake arrives, and find myself leaning closer to her. “Blunt as an anvil, you are.”

“Yuh-huh,” she counters sarcastically, “and you’re as transparent as a pain of glass.”

My grin stretches. “I’m not one to hide my intentions.”

“Neither am I.”

“Clearly,” I mutter, before pushing the slice of red velvet towards her. “You’re attracted to me.” Her blush deepens, which has me wanting to reach over and touch her again. “And I’m attracted to you. In fact, I think you’re the most beautiful female to have ever stepped foot in Whispering Pines.”

“I’m going to stop you there,” she says, pushing the cake away again as she too leans forward in her chair. “I only just left Brad not even a full week ago. I’m nowhere near ready to jump into another relationship.”

“And if I told you I don’t need you to make any promises to me?” I ask softly, unable to tear my gaze away from her. “If all I asked for was a little of your time?”

She quirks a brow. “And my body, of course.”

I suck in a breath, and feel my heart rate pick up as my gaze drops down along her form. Gods, yes. And your gorgeous body.

“You’re beautiful, Grace,” I say. Her arms are still crossed, pushing her plump breasts up wonderfully, and it takes me a second longer than I mean to before I can tear my gaze back to her eyes. “I hope you don’t think I’m just saying that.”

Finally, her smile returns properly, and her arms loosen to her side. “You know, you’re actually pretty sweet for being such a sleaze.”

“Excuse me…” I mutter with half-hearted affront.

“I like you just fine,” she continues, “and I hope to remain friends with you for as long as Ella is married to your best friend. Which I hope is forever, by the way. But I’m not your girl.”

Why not? The thought quietly echoes through my mind, which strikes me as an odd thing to think.

“I can’t be the kind of woman you’re looking for,” she says, turning across the cafe to where her son still plays. “I don’t want a man at all right now, but even if I did, it would have to be something serious. Casual is just not up my alley.”

Disappointment trickles through me. I find myself staring at her for a long moment, even as she continues to watch her son. My eyes trace along the slight upturn of her nose, her delicate jaw, the slim neck beneath the mess of dark gold waves that tumble over her shoulders, and unfortunately, the urge to run my fingers through her hair doesn’t dissipate.

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