Page 28 of Charmed and Alarmed

This comment has him frowning. “They’re paying for it themselves. I offered, but Ballard wouldn’t hear of it. Told me to save it for Leni.”

My pulse stutters as my brain immediately produces an image of the daughter in question wearing a white dress.Fuck, fuck, fuck.I’m in such deep shit. We couldn’t even get across the street before she came up in conversation, and now I’m picturing her in a goddamnwedding dress?

We stop at the curb, and I hit the crosswalk button with my elbow. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” I manage.

Bram nods thoughtfully. “How’s she doing, by the way? I wasn’t sure she would take well to working an office job. Honor thought she would walk out the first day.”

I hesitate, trying to decide how much of this is appropriate for me to tell Bram. Little to nothing seems like the safest option. “I’m not sure she likes it, but she’s doing fine. Can I ask you something?” I ask before I can stop myself. Is it bad form to be pumping Bram for relationship advice when the relationship I’m interested in being in is with his daughter?

My partner glances at me, obviously intrigued. “Of course.”

I swallow, staring straight ahead. “Has it been easy? To be with Sophie?”

This earns me a chuckle. “In some ways. I’ve been on my own for a while, and as my kids like to remind me, I tend to steamroll. It’s been an adjustment, being in a partnership.”

“But is it worth it?” I press, my heart beating a little faster at the direction this conversation has taken.

Across the street, the crosswalk light changes, and the pair of us set off again as Bram continues. “Absolutely. I would take much more drastic measures than asking her opinion on what to have for dinner, if I needed to. Thankfully, Sophie seems to be fairly tolerant of my idiosyncrasies.”

Tolerant is an understatement. With over a decade in business with the man, I believe Sophie ought to be nominated for sainthood.

“Right,” I respond distractedly as we reach the E&V building.

Something in my tone must have tipped off Bram that this wasn’t exactly the innocent line of questioning I attempted to portray it as. He frowns at me as he holds open the door, standing back to allow me through first.

“Did you meet someone?” he asks, lowering his voice so the receptionists don’t catch wind of it. I’m grateful. Gossip spreads like wildfire in this place, and the last thing I want is people on the lookout for hints of my romantic interests.

“It’s casual.”

Bram hums. “Are you sure about that?”

Not at all. “You know me,” I joke half-heartedly, just as we reach the top of the stairs and turn toward Team V’s offices. “I like variety.”

“Oh, hey, Len!”

My heart drops like a stone, and I almost bump into Bram, who has slowed his pace to address Leni, who is turning into the hall from the copy room.

There is nothing at all in her expression to suggest she’s picked up a single word of the conversation Bram and I were just having, and yet I know. She heard.

It’s a lie. Or, at least,nowit's a lie. I’ve gone on a date here and there in the six months since New Year’s, but I could never quite get myself to care enough to put in a real effort. Instead, I would go home, pull up that well-watched video of Lenora Vogel dancing, and jerk myself off imagining it was her hands on my cock instead of my own.

“Hey, Dad. Holden.” She brushes past, and I have no choice but to continue after Bram, helping him carry the boxes back to his wing of E&V while he debates whether or not the vacation he booked for himself and Sophie ought to be a surprise or not.

As soon as I’ve deposited them on the table, I turn on my heel, striding to my office as quickly as I can without outright running, my stomach churning. Even if I’m not quite sure where we stand, the idea of her believing I’m interested in anyone else is repugnant to me. My stomach is actually churning when I arrive in the workspace, out of breath, and whip my head around, looking for Leni, but she is nowhere to be seen.

The nausea intensifies.

A few of my employees are staring at me strangely, and I arrange my expression into something vaguely resembling normalcy. Wracking my brain, I run through her possible whereabouts like a checklist. She may be in the ladies’ room, but she also refills all the office supplies first thing each morning, so there’s a chance I can catch her in the supply room.

Without offering a word of explanation to my bemused employees, I turn on my heel, half running back across the atrium toward the hall leading to the storage room, and sag in relief when my first guess proves correct.

Leni stares at me, her hand halfway to a box of compressed air canisters, eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Uh?—”

I slam the door behind myself and lock it. As I look toward her, though, the words I wanted to say—the ones declaring her as the only woman I’m interested in doing anything at all with—get caught in my throat.

It’s suddenly difficult to swallow. She’s wearing a pink skirt dotted with little flowers and a lacy white blouse that skims the sharp line of her collarbone. Her beauty knocks the wind out of me, as does the realization I am really, truly out of my league here.

Instead of speaking, I lunge forward, crossing the room in three long strides and lifting my hands to her face. My lips descend on hers, kissing her with a desperation bordering on mania. Leni’s gasp of surprise is lost as I bear down harder, hungry and bruising, and I don’t realize we’re moving until her back hits the nearest supply shelf,

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