Page 16 of Resisting the Billionaire

Yes, it’s been a while since a guy touched you, but that doesn’t mean you get to notice this one. He’s off limits.

“Mackenzie?” his deep voice passes through the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine.” It comes out squeakier than I’d like, but it’ll have to do.

I turn off the water and pat it with another paper towel, pasting on a smile as I exit. “Why don’t we finish up the flowers?”

He looks down at my hand where I’m clutching the makeshift bandage to my thumb, and I carefully peel it back to show him I’m fine.

“Yeah, sure.”

We decide on a combination of dyed and sprayed flowers to create a bouquet for Serena, with hues running the gamut from dark navy to a pale dusty blue, with metallic silver as an accent. The same color scheme is echoed in the arrangements we choose for decorations throughout the ceremony and reception halls, but without a venue picked out, we’ll have to wait to make final decisions.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks as we enter my office.

“It was a scratch. See, all better.”

He lightly touches my thumb, studying the thin red line that’s already starting to scab over, and I hold still, afraid to even breathe with how close he is. If I do, I’ll catch wind of that cologne again. Or maybe it’s just something uniquely Gabriel.

He lets go of me, seemingly satisfied. “So what’s next?”

“Well, your dad asked if I could take some pictures of you and Serena planning the wedding, but I obviously can’t do that if she’s not here. So we’ll have to do that another day. Other than that…” I shimmy around between the desk and chair to sit down, looking over my planner. “I have notes of every vendor we want to meet with, and I’ll set up appointments for those in the next week. Once they hear that magic Bishop name, we should be able to get in fairly soon.”

“So that’s it then?”

“For today, yeah.”

“Cool. You want to go grab lunch or something? A business lunch,” he clarifies, lingering by the doorway.

I close my planner, ignoring the tug in my stomach declaring it’s past meal time. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“But you said we’re done for the day.”

“We’redone,” I motion between us. “But I still have other work to do. You’re not my only client.”

“Oh.” He only appears taken aback for a moment before he says, “Well, maybe I can help you.”

I give him a level look. “You want to help me?”

“Yeah.”

Why in the world would he do that?

“You think I’ll mess it up, don’t you?” he asks, sticking his hands in his pockets, a rueful smile on his face.

“What? No.”

“Fair assumption,” he shrugs. “I’ve never had a job.”

He’s trying his best to appear nonchalant, but it almost comes across as too casual. Does it mean more to him than he’s letting on?

“Are you asking for one?” I grin slyly, attempting to lighten the mood.

“What do you have for me?”

I chuckle, not sure if he’s serious or not, but I throw my hardest task out there anyway. “You know what I need? A garden sanctuary here in the city.” Freaking Danielle hasn’t let up on her request for the impossible, insisting I make it happen or she’ll be taking her business elsewhere. I’m tempted to tell her to go shove it. “It needs to allow kids and dogs, yet is somehow also private, upscale, and within a modest budget.”

“Hmm.” He leans against the doorframe, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his jaw. It makes a hypnotic rasping sound in the quiet of the office, my attention focused on him. “It has to be private?” he asks, pulling me out of my reverie.

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