Page 8 of Finding Out

Tom had a thing about being closer to the exit. In restaurants, movie theaters, hotels, any place that was bustling with people. He always insisted on being between Avery and the door. Being famous, I guessed, could make a man paranoid. Though I could appreciate his need to protect his daughter, I didn’t like the way his instinct to protect me too made butterflies take flight in my belly. There was no preventing the sensation, so all I could do was swallow it down.

As I moved past him, my arm brushed against his abs, sending an electric spark through me.

Hissing, he flinched away. “We’re leaving in ten minutes,” he gritted out as he spun and headed for the second bedroom. “Be ready. I want to be early.”

Early was his natural state. In his mind, if a person arrived on time, they were late. In this moment, though, it felt less like he wanted to be early and more like he needed to get away from me.

Swallowing down the dread and disappointment that stirred in my chest, I opened my bag, removed what I needed, and then went to wait in the living room, ensuring I was ready and willing when my grumpy suitemate came out.

I stood in silence, listening to the zipper of his suitcase, and pulled up the text thread I’d created for our driver. As I tapped out a message, a drawer clicked shut. Huffing, I shook my head. Who the hell unpacked for one night? It was one p.m., and our flight out was at seven tomorrow morning. We’d be here for another eighteen hours. There was no way he needed to unpack. But I’d keep my mouth shut. If I brought it up, Mr. Uptight would lecture me about wrinkles. I worked smarter, not harder, so the wrap dress I’d brought for tomorrow wouldn’t wrinkle even if I tossed it in a heap and left it that way overnight.

The sound of another drawer slamming had me cringing. This was supposed to be an adventure for Tom. The amount of effort it had taken to convince the owners to part with the piece of art was an achievement on its own. Owning a work as sought-after asStonehengeshould be a celebration, not cause to stress.

Once we picked up the painting, we couldn’t leave it alone in the room, so if we were going to celebrate, we needed to do it now. Not only was it my job to make this exchange go smoothly, but to make it memorable too. And whether Tom knew it or not, he was going to enjoy today.

I deleted the text I’d typed out and chose a different route. After a few messages, our plans had been adjusted.

Tom’s door opened, snagging my attention, and when he stepped out, my knees wobbled.

Holy shit, the man rocked a fucking suit. It was hard to decide which was sexier: the way the charcoal jacket pulled tight across his shoulders or how the crisp white shirt with the top button undone showed off the thick column of his neck.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Come.”

The word sent a shudder down my spine. Though the command was an innocent one, its dual meaning wasn’t lost on me.

I could see the scene play out. His fierce eyes on my face as he hovered above me. His hand between my thighs. Toying with me.

My breath hitched, my heart pounding in my ears?—

“Wren?”

That single syllable pulled me out of the fantasy.

Tom frowned at me, standing halfway across the room, and waved me toward the door.

I forced down the reaction I had no right to have. Even if we hadn’t been thrown together because of business, my best friend would kill me if I slept with her dad. Regardless of the desires he awoke in me, I had to ignore them. I couldn’t go there without risking one of the most important relationships I had.

“Thebar?”I snapped as Wren sauntered away. Every click of her red-bottomed heels had my attention wanting to shift down. Had me tempted to let the sway of her hips hypnotize me.

I prided myself on control. Every aspect of my life was organized and planned. Except when it came to Wren Jacobs. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t control her or my reactions to her. And it pissed me off.

“We’re celebrating for a few minutes before we leave.” Her voice floated over her shoulder, though she didn’t turn as she stepped out of the elevator.

“Why?” I scoffed.

Sighing, she spun and crossed her arms, causing her breast to lift, putting far too much skin on display above the neckline of her top. I tried not to swallow my tongue. Breasts were breasts, and while I loved them as much as the next guy, a single pair should not have the power to make me feel like I was having an aneurysm. Clearly, my body didn’t agree with that assessment.

With my tongue still out of commission, I responded with a silent scowl.

“It’s important to take the time to enjoy this moment. I won’t let you skate past that.”

I blinked. Damn, she was right. If it had been anyone else, I’d have happily toasted to my newest acquisition.

Taking my silence for agreement, she turned around and continued on her way.

“Did I forget that I agreed to this plan?” I asked as we made our way through the lobby to the bar.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Her full red lips lifted in a soft smile.

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