Page 11 of Choosing the right Man

“Chloe, let me give you a ride,” I say. I hate how eager my voice sounds. I never sound this way. Most would describe me as cold.

She looks at me as if she’s planning to tell me no, and I search my mind for ways to talk her into getting into my car. Hell, I’d like to haul her over my shoulder, slap her fine ass, then plant her in the passenger seat. This is another first for me in what I assume will be a lot of firsts where Chloe’s concerned.

Just as she seems to make up her mind, the sky opens, and a few fat raindrops come down on top of her pretty dark hair. She looks panicked as she tries to decide whether she’s going to drench herself or accept a ride with her arrogant boss. I can live with this description.

I open my mouth to say more when she finally grabs the door handle and climbs in next to me. The rain doesn’t become a major downpour; it’s just enough to make the car space intimate and somehow more private. I want to find a dark road to drive down with her, the two of us in a perfect cocoon. I already know where she lives, though I haven’t driven by the place yet.

“What are you doing out so late?” she asks.

I don’t want to seem too desperate in my pursuit of her, so I’m not sure how to answer. I’m grateful for the darkness of the car and her seeming inability to look at my face for too long.

“I work late more often than not.” This is actually true, but not usually this late. What is it about the two of us that seems to make the world stop spinning? Are we meant to be together? I don’t believe in fate or destiny.

We don’t speak as we make our way to her house. I’ve never had trouble getting people to talk to me. As a matter of fact, the real trick is to get them to shut up... especially females wanting to impress me. Even the most introverted people end up telling me their life story. Chloe certainly doesn’t feel a need to impress me, which is leading to the opposite outcome. It makes me want her more.

I’m getting close to her place and have to keep an eye out on the streets so I don’t miss my turn, but my anxiety grows as wedraw closer. I don’t want this drive to end without words being spoken. I’m wasting time with her.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask.

“Uh, I don’t know,” she answers, caught off-guard by my question.

“You’re doing a project you need supplies for. I’ll pick you up and take you shopping.” I don’t phrase this as a question. If it’s a work-related project, she can’t refuse. It’s a good thing I stay up on what my employees do on a regular basis.

“I was planning to go on my own if I needed anything,” she hesitantly says.

“You’re new,” I remind her. This stiffens her back. I’d rather see the fighter in her than a defeated woman. What a fool her boyfriend must be to have her all to himself and to not see her.

“I know, but I have a list,” she tells me. She pauses. “I can’t imagine the owner of the company takes lowly employees for supply runs.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor to the sound. I’ve never taken an employee on a supply run. Hell, I don’t have anything to do with the supply department of my company. She doesn’t need to know this, though.

“You don’t know. Maybe you’ll find out more about me as time presses forward.”

She still seems unsure, but she can’t keep refusing, not if she wants to do well in the company. I’m well aware I’m overstepping. I don’t care. I need to be with her, and I don’t want to go the entire weekend without seeing her again. This again, is something new for me.

“I guess it will be okay then,” she answers with far too much hesitancy for my liking. Excitement stirs within me. My first victory when it comes to this woman.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.” There isn’t a chance I’m letting her out of this. I’ve finally gotten her to see me outside of the office.

Oddly I feel like a kid in a candy store at the thought. But I’m not going to analyze my feelings. I’ve convinced her to agree to see me. Step one is complete. I park my car in front of her place, jump from my door, and move to her side. She’s fumbling with the seatbelt when I open her door. She looks at me with confusion.

Good. I want to keep her guessing. I have a feeling not too many men in her life have been taught basic manners such as opening a lady’s door. My dad always told me he’d thump me over the head if he ever saw me standing back while Mom or Sis were opening the door. He’d told me from the time I was walking, it was a sign of respect to the women we love.

Chloe mumbles a thanks to me as she climbs from the car. It’s dark at her house. Why isn’t the porch light on? What in the hell is wrong with her boyfriend... her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend? I’ll make sure of it. I grab her bag. It’s surprisingly heavy. I place my other hand behind her back and lead her to the front door. She’s more nervous now. Let her boyfriend come out. I want to see the foolish man who’s about to lose her.

I have a massive urge to take her away from this place, to save her. What in the actual hell? This isn’t the type of thoughts I have. I don’t save women. I have a need for them, and then I forget them. I’m always respectful, and I make sure they’re pleasured as much as I am, but they arealwaystemporary. There’s no need to save this woman. I need a damn drink.

We stand for a few brief moments on her porch, and I desperately want to lean forward and connect my lips with hers. I’ve never in my life wanted to kiss someone so desperately. It’s as if a magnet draws me closer to her each minute of the day, and there’s no chance I can escape the pull.

“I’m glad I found you tonight, Chloe,” I say, hearing the huskiness in my voice.

For the briefest of moments she leans toward me as if she wants the exact same thing I do. But then her eyes widen, and she sucks in a breath. I know the kiss isn’t going to happen... at least not tonight. She seems unsure for another moment, then she grabs her bag, gives me a quick goodbye, and rushes inside her place... that isn’t locked. I seriously want to know what’s wrong with the man who’s had her for ten years. This womanneedsmy protection. I can’t give it to her for very long, but I can teach her a lot while we are together. The idea of even wanting to help her, to protect her, shocks me.

I quickly walk away and jump into my car. I blast my music on the way home, and try to wipe all thoughts of Chloe from my mind. It doesn’t work. Hell, when it comes to this woman, I don’t think I have any idea of what is even up or down anymore, let alone what I’m feeling. Only time will tell.

Chapter Ten

Chloe

---