Page 6 of Pulse
Troy lifts one brow and drops his hand. He couldn’t look more bored if he tried.
“If you play your cards right, that won’t be all he enters.” She snickers.
“Drinks Friday, right?” I ask, ignoring her. “I’ll call you later this week to pick a time and place.”
“Yes, and don’t try to bail on me. I need this.”
I smile, holding Troy’s gaze as I approach my desk. “I need it, too. Talk soon.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and place my phone next to my computer. Troy’s eyes peer into mine as I get seated.
“Theo knocks,” I say.
“As he should.”
“As he should, huh?” I ask, leaning against my desk. “Then why shouldn’t you?”
Troy only stares at me.
This man. “You’re extra grumpy today. Want me to get you a snack?”
A wry little smile quirks his mouth.
I roll my eyes and awaken my computer. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with you.”
“Who was on the phone?”
I peer at him over my shoulder. “What?”
“Who was on the phone?” He sits up, holding my gaze hostage. “It didn’t sound like a work conversation.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re meeting them for drinks on Friday—location to be determined. That sounds like a personal appointment to me.”
I pull aTroyon him and lift a brow, giving him my best disinterested look. What he can’t see are my insides melting into a pile of goo.
Troy and I have worked together since my first day at Landry Security. On paper, we shouldn’t mesh well at all. He’s moody and sullen. I wake up happy. He’s pragmatic and sensible—infuriatingly so at times. I’m optimistic about most things, which irritates him to no end. Troy wants to keep everyone at arm’s length, and I’m a hugger in every sense of the word. Despite all of that, we click.
Somehow.
“I wouldn’t call itan appointment,” I say, pulling my coffee mug toward me. I inhale a deep breath, hoping to fill my senses with the wonderful aroma of coffee. Instead, I get a lungful of Troy’s cologne. It’s seductive and masculine—promising excitement and a hint of danger.
It’s fitting.
“What wouldyoucall it?” he asks.
The edge to his voice sends a chill down my spine. “I’d call itnone of your business.”
His eyes darken. I grin.
“I take it you saw Lincoln bright and early,” I say before sipping my drink. “It’s the only explanation for your uncontained joy this morning.”
“You know, it still shocks me that he’s Ford’s brother.”
“Right? Ford is Mr. Serious and Responsible, and Lincoln is …”
