Page 20 of Daddy's Naughty Realtor

"Are we going to talk about what happened between us?" he finally asks on the third day, cornering me in my office after hours.

I look up from the insurance paperwork spread across my desk. "Now isn't a good time, Jeremy."

"It never is." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "You're pulling away. I can feel it."

He's right. I am. Because waking up in his bed felt too good, too right and then reality came crashing down with that text message. A stark reminder that mixing business and pleasure can have consequences. I was distracted during the showing and although I had set the alarm, someone had broken in with the code. I wondered if someone watched me put the code in… while my mind was thinking about how sexy Jeremy was and what the night ahead might bring.

"I'm dealing with a professional crisis," I say, gesturing to the paperwork. "The Richardson break-in could have ended my career."

"But it didn't. You did everything right." He moves closer, perching on the edge of my desk. "This isn't about the break-in, Gina. This is about us."

"There is no 'us,'" I say automatically, the words tasting like a lie. "What happened was... it was a mistake."

The hurt that flashes across his face makes my chest ache, but I push through. This is necessary.

Safe.

"You don't mean that," he says quietly.

"I do." I stand, needing distance, movement. "Jeremy, we got caught up in the moment. The excitement of the project, old feelings, nostalgia… whatever it was, it clouded my judgment. “We didn’t work then and we won’t work now."

"Clouded your judgment?" His voice hardens. "Is that what you think happened between us? Cloudy judgement?"

I avoid his eyes, focusing instead on straightening papers that don't need straightening. "I think we both got carried away. And as a result, I made a professional mistake that nearly cost me everything."

"You didn't make a mistake, Gina." He stands too, his frustration palpable. "The security company confirmed the alarm was set. Someone else disabled it hours later."

"That's not the point." I finally look at him. "The point is that I was distracted. By you. By us. By whatever this is." I gesture between us. "And I can't afford distractions. I’ve worked too hard to lose everything."

Jeremy steps closer, the desk between us like a moat I'm desperately trying to maintain. "So that's it? One night together and you're already running scared?"

"I'm not scared," I lie. "I'm being practical. The deal closes tomorrow. After that, we go our separate ways, like we agreed. You like to go on… to leave, after all."

"We never agreed to that," he says quietly. "In fact, I'm pretty sure my exact words were that I wanted a second chance with you. That I've spent thirty years trying to get back to you."

The sincerity in his voice makes something in my chest crack. I want to believe him. God help me, I want to fall into whatever he's offering. But I've spent too many years building walls, protecting myself, making sure I never need anyone too much.

"I need time," I say finally. "Space to think. To figure out what I want."

Jeremy studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. "Okay. Time. Space. I can give you that." He moves toward the door, then pauses. "But don't take too long, kitten. I've already waited thirty years for you. My patience isn't unlimited."

After he leaves, I sink back into my chair, the office suddenly too quiet, too empty. My phone buzzes with a text.

Sydney: Did you talk to Jeremy? Is he coming to dinner on Sunday?

I hadn't even thought about the fact that my daughter was already attaching to him, including him in future plans. Another complication. Another reason to be cautious.

Me: Not this Sunday,

I text back.

Work stuff. Complicated.

Her response is immediate:

Mom. Don't screw this up. He’s perfect for you.

Out of the mouths of babes.

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