Page 5 of Finding Out

Eyes narrowed, I assessed her. Sure, Wren had been a hellion as a teenager and probably still was, but that wasn’t the issue. Erin had been very clear when we started this project that Wren was the best. The up-and-coming star who would someday be her right-hand woman. But I’d told her that I preferred not to work with her because of her personal connection to Avery. The truth of it, though, was that I didn’t trust myself to spend too much time with my daughter’s best friend. Not only would Avery be appalled if she knew the kinds of thoughts that ran through my mind, but Heath Jacobs, a longtime friend, would surely kill me if he knew that I’d been fantasizing about his daughter. If I made even a single move, I’d be buried under the tee box of the first hole at his country club before I could utter an apology.

“This weekend, I’m going to prove that you should have been working with me all this time.” She shifted away with a huff.

Part of me wanted to close the gap she’d created, but over the years, I’d perfected the art of keeping my distance. I couldn’t leave the issue of her talent hanging, though. I’d hate myself if I made her doubt abilities even a little.

“I know you’re more than capable of managing this transfer,” I muttered. “We all know you’ll handle it even better than Larry would have.”

Lips parting, she studied me, an unnamed emotion swimming in her eyes. A feeling I thought might match the flutter in my chest.

“Can I get you a preflight beverage?”

Wren took a breath and blinked, and instantly, the emotion was gone.

“Coffee, extra milk, and two sugars, please.” She gave the flight attendant a polite smile. “Mr. Brown needs a black coffee. In a ceramic mug. He won’t drink out of paper.”

It annoyed me that she knew me well enough to order correctly, while at the same time, the idea settled warmly in my bones, relaxing me. This was a good indication that she might have this weekend locked down.

She watched the flight attendant scurry back to the galley before she shifted those onyx eyes back my way.

“I have work to do, but if you need something, don’t hesitate to ask.” Without waiting for a response, she pulled her iPad out of her bag and popped in her earbuds.

I tried to ignore the woman next to me, but ten minutes into the flight, I found myself trying to eye her tablet.

An image of my painting—or the work of art that would soon be mine—was on her screen, and she’d zoomed in on a small rip at the edge of the canvas.

“Is that bigger than a half inch?” I demanded. I was aware that there was a small imperfection caused by reframing, but in the photo, it looked bigger than the seller had claimed.

She popped one ear bud out. “I hope not, but don’t worry, I’ll check.” She shifted the screen toward me and leaned closer.

Her arm brushed my chest, causing my abs to tense. I could not react this way. She was my daughter’s best friend. Nineteen fucking years younger than me. And yet here I was, a creepy old asshole drooling over her.

“See here?” She pointed to the top right corner of the screen.

Once again I was flooded with that sweet perfume, the scent making my heart race. It took far too much effort to maintain my self-control.

Wren Jacobs would not be the woman who broke me.

“That’s the scale.”

I blinked, attempting to think about anything other than the warmth of her arm pressing against mine. The way her chest lifted with each intake of air. The way I longed to close the space between us.

“According to this…”

I had lost the entire conversation.

“Not even three-eighths of an inch.”

She reached over and patted my thigh, the warmth of her palm ripping through me.

“It’s rare when bigger isn’t better, huh?” She laughed, the sound causing my dick to twitch.

Clearing my throat, I straightened. “The only people who say that buy cars to overcompensate for what they’re lacking.”

Wren chuckled. “Whereas you buy paintings to…?”

“To set a mood.”

My arm brushed hers on the armrest between us, and instantly, goose bumps broke out on her skin. I wasn’t blind to her reaction to me. This attraction wasn’t one-sided, not by a longshot. And that only made my vow to not act on it more difficult. “Art creates emotions and sets a tone.”

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