Page 58 of Scorched

“I’ll take the bedroom.” Two closed doors between them was better than one. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

She nodded. “In the bathroom cabinet.”

“Okay.” His gaze held hers when she didn’t move. “Maggie, you need to go work.” His voice was a rough whisper.

“I know,” she whispered back.

He took a step toward her. It shook her from her trance, and she shifted, moving back.

“Work. I need to work,” she said under her breath. “Good night, Declan.”

She scampered away, and he sagged against the counter, only to straighten when she returned.

“I forgot my briefcase.” She hurried past him into the garage. A car door opened, then closed, and she came back inside. She didn’t stop as she darted past, only offering him a wave and a quick salutation.

Declan groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. Part of him wanted to storm into her office and make her forget about work. But the other part of him listed all the reasons why they were a bad idea. The age gap, her job, his terrible pedigree, how she reminded him of his ex—it all combined to make his feet move toward the spare bedroom instead.

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