Page 68 of The Confidentiality Clause
I push both my hands into my hair as she walks away.
I’m alone again. The only thing to keep me company is my work and the chorus ofshould havesrunning through my mind. The one repeating the most?
I should have kissed her.
Chapter thirty
Ariel Cambridge
I walk into Brock’s kitchen feeling as if I’m living in a fever dream. Brock is standing at the stove cooking while Wyatt Parker’s song “Angel Baby” plays through a nearby speaker. Brock’s messy blond hair looks like spun gold in the soft glow of morning.
He turns toward the kitchen island and smiles when he sees me. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
I blink a few times, wondering if perhaps I really am still asleep. He watches me, amusement in his gaze. “I slept well. Did you ever go to bed?”
I walk over to the stove. There are mushrooms in the pan. Brock adds a handful of spinach, and it begins wilting. The kitchen air smells like butter and salt, two things I happen to adore.
“I managed to snag a couple of hours. When I woke up before you, I thought I’d return the favor of all the meals you made while we were at the cabin.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “That’s sweet of you. Do you need any help?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t have much here. Shocker, I know.” He shoots me a boyish grin that makes my stomach flip. “But I think this will make for a decent omelet. Just remember you’re the chef between us.”
Us. The word floats on the air like the petals of a dandelion. I want to snatch it and tuck it against my chest, but I know I shouldn’t. Brock and I are nothing more than friends.
“It smells amazing. I’m sure it’ll be great.” I give him an encouraging smile.
The song changes to another Wyatt Parker one called “Willow Tree”.
“This is a favorite of mine,” I say to Brock as I lean on the counter nearby.
“Yeah?” He smirks. “I know you’re obsessed with him, so I figured you’d like to be woken up this way.”
I roll my eyes. “Obsessed is a strong word.” And entirely correct.
“So if he showed up asking you to marry him, you wouldn’t immediately say yes?”
“He’s already married, and he has kids. His family is adorable.” I eat up every glimpse of them shared online. They stay offline a lot, but his wife Grace likes to share snippets of their home life occasionally.
“Let’s say he wasn’t married.”
“I’d say yes in a heartbeat.” My tone makes it sound obvious. “He’s hot, blond, and can sing.”
“So you have a thing for blonds?”
“Of course that’s the detail you latch on to,” I say, trying to keep my tone level. Meanwhile, my heart has picked up speed. I wouldn’t say I have a thing for blonds, but I do find certain ones attractive. Brock included, unfortunately.
“It was important enough that it made the top three for you.”
He pours beaten eggs over the mushroom and spinach mixture.
“I wouldn’t say that’s the top three things I want in a man. It’s just what came to mind about Wyatt first. I’m not shallow.”
Brock chuckles. “I didn’t say you were, Duke. I’m teasing you and flattering myself with the thought you find me attractive.”
My face heats. I look down at my bare feet.
“Out of curiosity, what are the top three things?” he asks as he sprinkles cheese over the omelet.
