“I would like to ask you something…personal.” When I met the man’s eyes, the small smirk had fully formed on his mouth.
Would his fangs hurt when he kissed me?
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” I mumbled, returning to the papers and straightening them yet again.
“Why not?” He cocked his head at me.
Seriously?
“Well, this is my workplace, and it’s unprofessional to mix the two.”Like with Arden. Let him decide what other thing I’m talking about.
Expression slightly crestfallen, he stepped a little closer and brushed my arm with his fingers.
Violent goosebumps spread from the place where he touched me down my spine. The counter was still between us, but I had the urge to step further away. And I couldn’t help but notice just how bloody tall he was.
“I am sorry for making you uncomfortable, Ollie.” It was he who stepped back now, a sad purse of his lips the only sign of his disappointment.
“It’s okay, you didn’t.”
What was it you wanted to ask me?
“I… See you later.” He raised his hand in farewell and slouched towards the door, head pulled between his shoulders.
You bloody fool, I berated myself as I watched him go. He looked genuinely put out, and I…I wished I could rewind time and give him a different answer.
Not that I had no interest. God, how could I not? I didn’t even think Fitz would have minded if I’d beenfriendlywith our guests. He married our marketing manager, for Goodness’ sake, but then again…
It was best to keep my distance from him. As much as that sucked. I had once crossed the border and had been burned so badly I still felt it.
After the checkout, I got some paperwork done in my office. I loved that place. Fitz had added it to the last unused barn that housed a staff room, my office, and a few rooms for workshops on the upper level.
The window looked out over the rose garden his grandmother had planted. Ilwyn Hall had opened it to the public only recently. Thanks to Maddie’s marketing genius, the Breanna Hall Rose Garden already attracted visitors from all over the country and…
Oh, come on.
A huge green man trudged past the window and deeper into the garden, both hands digging into his hoodie pockets, head bowed. He settled on a bench by the pond and was in full view of my desk, elbows resting on his spread knees, and his gaze fixed on his hands.
God, he looks upset.
Making up my mind in an instant, I grabbed my jacket and went outside.
I wanted to make things right with Bo. And I knew he wasn’t acting to get me to give in. Again, like Arden.
“Are you enjoying the rose garden, Mr Persson?” I asked him, looking around the walled-in small park. I had stopped three feet before the bench and kept my hands hidden in my pockets so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him.
That shite just happened to me. Every single time I talked to someone I found interesting, I kept randomly grabbing them.
“I do. It’s lovely here. Why don’t you sit down if you have a moment? Take a break?”
I hesitated, but took a seat next to him.It won’t hurt to talk to him for a while, will it? He’s not Arden.
“And it’s Bo,” he said again, smiling over at me.
Slowly, I relaxed, knowing nobody could see us unless they came down that path.
He said nothing for a long moment, and I was content with inspecting his hand as it rested on top of his massive thigh. Broad, beautiful fingers with short nails, the one on his ring finger a little chipped.
How would they feel holding onto my hair when he—