Page 10 of Whiskey Darling
“It’s cool but not enough to keep me from swimming,” I manage to respond.
A smile plays across Flynn’s full lips as he saunters toward me. He’s dangerously handsome in a pair of dark jeans and a grey t-shirt with a scrolling pattern of black and silver. It’s tight across his torso. Highlighting chest muscles. And biceps. And mouth-watering forearms lightly dusted with black hair. A stainless-steel Rolex, the one he wears when casually dressed, glints in the sunlight.
“If you’d like the heaters on or off, let Jeff know. He’ll take care of it.” Removing his sunglasses, he tosses them on the table.
“Okay.” I roll the towel over my hair, hiding my nervousness. “Thanks again for letting me stay here. It’s beautiful.”
When he should stop devouring me with his eyes, Flynn does the opposite. His gaze flicks downward, touching on my breasts, my stomach, then the flare of my hips before dragging back up.
Damn it.My body ignores the memo that I shouldn’t let my boss know he affects me. I feel my face flushing. My nipples tighten into diamond-hard tips. Surely, he can see that for himself. Those sensitive bits of awakened flesh are poking holes through my bikini top. I’m practically quivering while he… he just stands there. Cool as can be, enjoying the view.
I drag the towel higher, clutching it against my chest until my knuckles are probably whiter than the fabric. “Um, it’s getting chilly. I better put something on.”
Flynn’s stare slides a second time over the area of my chest. A blaze of heat transforms those eyes of his into molten vats of dark, tawny gold. His jaw clenches, a tic making a muscle there leap once. Twice. Is he holding his breath? Or am I?
Jesus, I’m burning up!Did I just say it was getting cold? It’s not. I’m an inferno. Where’s that breeze when I need it?
He’s so close. Close enough he could reach out and trail a finger across my cheek if he wanted to.
Why do I want him to?
“If you like jogging, the trails are kept in excellent condition.” Flynn’s voice lowers by an octave.
“That sounds nice.” I clumsily reach for my coverup. It’s a filmy white cotton thing. Romantic, flowy, completely at odds with my leather-like black bikini. The suit is sexy, with a flirty fringe around the bra cups that matches the straps across my hipbones.
I should’ve worn a one piece. Something Victorian in nature, covering me from neck to knees.
Flynn’s eyes, I swear, burn me during the few seconds I tug the garment over my head. I canfeelthem, although I’m temporarily blind.
“I’m scared of what I might run into on the trails.” The thin fabric muffles my words before my head pokes through the opening. “There are always stories about mountain lions attacking joggers.”
Flynn approaches the patio set where my lunch waits for me and pulls out a chair. My ever-present journal of lists is there on the table. He sees it but doesn’t pick it up.
“With your determination and power of persuasion, I doubt a mountain lion would have the courage to attack you, Miss Darling.” Nodding at me to have a seat, his gaze touches on the journal again before sliding over me. “I’ll go with you. If you want company, that is.”
I sink into the chair, stunned. Flynn usually speaks to me only when necessary. After obvious avoidance, curt orders and silence, he’s offering himself up as a jogging partner now?
So. Freaking. Weird.And oddly exciting. Reaching for my bottled water, I hope he doesn’t notice my hand shaking but, of course, he notices. His eyes narrow.
“No need for babysitting duties. If I stay on the trails by the house, I should be safe enough.” My teeth chatter. It’s just a slight chill caused by the sudden wind. I’mnotshivering because his eyes are assessing me. “You know, the real estate agent found the perfect rental house for me. It’s not available for another two months, though. I hope it’s not a problem if I stay a while longer.”
“You can stay indefinitely, Allie. I should have made that clear.”
Clamping my lips tight, I pop open the plastic bowl containing my salad. “I couldn’t, really. I like my privacy so I’m sure you understand. Besides, it doesn’t look good, me living here, rent-free.”
The insinuation of what it does look like disturbs us both. Flynn scrubs his jaw with a hand, scowling just enough that his brow furrows.
“Is that all you are having?”
His question catches me off guard. I swallow a mouthful of lettuce and scowl back. Because he’s between me and the pool, I must tilt my head to look up at him. Large and imposing, his body almost blocks out the sun.
My eyebrows raise.
His shoulders lift in a shrug. “You should eat protein after a workout.”
Why does he look like he wants to eat his own words? And possibly me?
“Wasn’t much of a workout.” I take a gulp of water.
