Page 6 of Irresistible Professor

“Good morning,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I removed my coat and settled into my chair. I was acutely aware of the office’s warmth, a stark contrast to the icy world outside.

Ford’s office was a cluttered symphony of papers, books, and half-filled coffee cups as usual. The faint scent of old books and fresh coffee hung in the air, creating an ambiance of focused chaos. It was an inviting space, made even more so by the man who occupied it, even if no one else thought so but me.

“Thank you for coming in early today,” Ford said, glancing at the piles of documents on his desk. “I appreciate your help with organizing these research notes. It’s been quite a task keeping everything in order.”

I nodded, feeling a swell of pride at being able to assist him. “It’s my pleasure. I’m happy to help.”

He gave me another brief smile, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. There was a weight in those blue eyes, a depth of emotion that he rarely let show. It was a reminder of the unspoken tension that simmered between us, a spark that I’d been trying to ignore.

As I began sorting through the papers, I stole a glance at him. He was focused on his work, but I could sense his awareness of me. It was as if he was always mindful of my presence, even when he was lost in the complexities of astrophysics.

“How are your MBA classes going?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“They’re a lot of work, but I’m really enjoying them,” I replied, eager to share. “It’s a challenging program for sure, but definitely worth it because I’m learning so much.”

He nodded, looking genuinely interested. “That’s good to hear. Pursuing what you’re passionate about is important.”

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to confide in him. “My fiancé, Jonathan, doesn’t really understand why I’m putting so much effort into studying, though.”

Ford’s expression shifted, a shadow passing over his features. “Why is that?”

I sighed, feeling the weight of expectation settle over me. “He says he makes enough money as a programmer to support us and our future family. That’s probably true, but he seems to think all I want to be is a wife and mother.”

“And you don’t?” Ford asked, his tone gentle but probing.

I shook my head, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “I want to work, too. I want a career, something that’s mine, something I can be proud of.”

His blue eyes softened with understanding. “You deserve that, Bonnie. You shouldn’t have to choose between a career and a family.”

His support was like a balm to my conflicted soul. It felt validating to have someone recognize my aspirations and encourage me to pursue them.

“My mother always regretted not going to college,” Ford continued, a distant look in his eyes. “She was envious of me and my brother because our father encouraged us to pursue our dreams, but her parents never supported her desire to get an education.”

“That’s a shame,” I replied, sensing the depth of his empathy. “It’s hard when the people you care about don’t see your potential.”

He nodded, his expression somber. “It was a different time back then, another generation. My parents weren’t exactly happily married. I suspect my mother secretly resented my father for pushing us toward our dreams while hers were sidelined. It wasn’t like he was doing anything to help, either. He was the head of the household, and she was expected to follow orders the same as my brother and I.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, touched by his openness. There was a vulnerability in his words, a glimpse of the man beneath the professional exterior.

He waved it off, his walls going up again. “The point is, Bonnie, I support your professional endeavors. Don’t let anyone tell you what you can or cannot achieve.”

His words echoed in my mind, bolstering my resolve. Our eyes met, and I thought I saw something flicker in his gaze, a connection that went beyond words.

We continued to work, the room filled with our clicking keyboards and the quiet hum of the heater. I got up to retrieve the file of papers on his desk when our hands accidentally brushed as we reached forward at the same time.

The touch was electric, a jolt that made my skin tingle and my heart skip a beat as our eyes locked. Did he sense the spark between us, too? I pulled my hand back quickly, feeling my cheeks flush with heat.

“Sorry,” I murmured, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of me.

“No worries,” he replied, his voice a touch lower than before.

The air between us was thick with unspoken tension as though it were charged with energy. Trying to push it aside, I reminded myself of my commitment to Jonathan.

Jonathan. The thought of him brought with it a pang of guilt. He was the man I was going to marry, the one I had been with since high school. Our parents were best friends, and our lives were so intertwined that I couldn’t imagine untangling them. And yet, here I was, feeling something for Ford that I shouldn’t.

The wedding was only a few months away, and there was so much to do. I should have been focused on the details, the dress fittings, working more closely with the vendors. Instead, I was distracted by this undeniable attraction to Ford.

Taking a deep breath, I sat back down at my desk, forcing myself to concentrate on the task at hand. The papers needed sorting, and I couldn’t let my emotions interfere with my work. Still, my mind kept wandering back to Ford, his understanding words, and the way he looked at me. I told myself that this was just a passing fancy, something that would fade with time. But deep down, I wasn’t so sure. There was an undeniable connection between us, a thread that seemed to pull us closer with every interaction.

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