Page 88 of Who's Your Daddy
Without my permission, my feet bring me closer to the table. Dammit, he’s annoying, but I’m hungry.
“I can hear your tummy doing the grumbly-rumbly from across the room.” His eyes sparkle in the dim lighting. “Come on Lola, you know you want dinner.”
I eye the steak. I really do. “Fine.” I huff, though the sound that escapes me is more of a moan.
And if the way Cal presses his lips together like he’s fighting a laugh is anyindication, he noticed.
“How’s the lighting?” he asks as he guides me into my chair. “Is it too dim? I know you prefer full light. The overhead lighting at Berns really is exceptional. It cast the perfect shadows.” He slips into his own chair and shakes out his napkin. “Next time we’ll have to do this there.”
“Next time?” I ball my hands into fists, cursing the way my stupid heart skips at the possibility. Hating that the effort he put into tonight has me melting a fraction.
He grasps my hand, his warmth seeping into me in a much too comforting way. “Yes, Lola.” His eyes lose the playful glint and he gives my hand a squeeze. “There will be many,manynext times.”
I tamp down on the flutter that passes through me and pull my hand away. This is getting out of hand. We work together. It can’t be more. “You have that much business to discuss?”
Not at all deterred, he smiles. “I do. Brian says you’re the best at getting Atshire to sod off.”
I chuckle. “That’s not the way to approach him. I promise.”
Brow cocked, he pushes the basket of bread closer to me. “Eat. Then explain the best way to get him to stop posturing.”
Mouth watering, I break off a hunk of the still-warm bread and pop it into my mouth. The outside is perfectly crusty, while the center is soft and warm.
My eyes drift shut while I chew. “Mmm, it’s as good as 22.”
“You wanted bread, and whatever Lola wants.”
That statement has irritated me for years. Like nails on a chalkboard, it’s clawed at my brain, making me want to scream.
Now, though, sitting here with Cal, it hits me differently. The words leave his tongue in a way that is almost…sweet. Endearing maybe. An emotion settles inside me, one that has nothing to do with annoyance.
After a second bite of bread, I sip my water and clear my throat. “Like any bully, Atshire does better if you call him on his bullshit.”
Cal leans close, his expression earnest and eager, like he’s hanging onto my every word.
As I explain how Brian and I have handled Atshire in the past, I give in and cut into my steak. The knife slices through the perfectly medium-rare filet as if moving through warm butter. And the first bite? I swear it melts in my mouth.
I’ve just popped a third bite into my mouth when I’m hit with a thought.
“Wait. You’ve gone against Atshire more than Brian has, I’m sure.” I set my fork down and hit him with a stern look. “Why are you wasting my time? You don’t need my help. You’re known as the silver-tongued golden boy who can charm any attorney into settling.”
Cal sets down his own fork and focuses all his attention on me. “Needing and wanting are two completely different things, Lola.”
He inches his hand closer. Though he doesn’t take mine, he brushes his pinkie over my own. It’s the slightest touch, yet it’s enough to send electricity coursing through me.
“Iwantyour opinion. On everything.”
My traitorous body leans toward him, caught in his magnetic field.
“I crave your thoughts and your words. Could I do this without you? Sure.” He cups my cheek. “But I desperately don’t want to.”
My breath catches, my pulse racing.
He’s so close. It would be easy to just lean in. Press my lips to his. Give in to the fire growing hotter inside me. The one I can’t douse no matter how hard I try.
But we work together. Hell, we share an office. And he’s Cal.
Finally snapping out of his spell, I shift back and breathe in deeply.
