Page 45 of Mistlefoe
“Well, she’s very different from that ex of yours.”
“Whoa, okay. My head’s spinning here.” I lean a hand on the table and massage my forehead with the other one. “Are you by any chance trying to matchmake me with my coworker?”
“I knew there was a brain in that thick skull of yours.”
I growl. “Gramps, she’s my coworker. It would be inappropriate to?—”
“Not if she also wants to?—”
“Not to mention,” I say a little louder to drown his voice. “She all but hated me for years.”
“Past tense. You did learn what that means in school, right?” He blows on a spoon loaded with stew and takes a careful bite. “Besides, she cooks really damn well. You should’ve seen how fast she chops vegetables.”
“Yeah, well. I think she said both of her parents work so she grew up pretty self sufficient.”
“Sounds leaps and bounds better than that spoiled Nikki of yours.”
I lower my voice. “Can you please stop comparing them? It’s just not gonna happen.”
“Not with that attitude. Listen to me, kid. If you don’t want to grow into an old lonely bat, you should open your eyes and really see what you have standing right in front of you.”
I clench my jaw and run a hand through my hair.
I see it, alright. I have three eyes that combined work pretty freaking well. Sierra is amazing—smart as a whip, true to herself, hotter than the center of the sun.
“Let’s just drop it, okay?”
“You can’t keep running away when things get hard, Conor.” And with that, he’s turned it around to our earlier fight. “You have to try and it’s okay if you fail. That won’t kill you, will it?”
“What are we talking about right now? Sierra or the conversation from before?”
“Both.” He jerks a thumb towards the hallway. “That girl didn’t beat around the bush to get what she wanted. Learn from her.”
I frown. “Even if what I want isn’t what you want?”
“Yeah.” Gramps sighs heavily. “If that will make you happy, then fight me tooth and nail. We wouldn’t have reacted so big before if you hadn’t avoided the topic for so long.” He pauses for a second. “But then, I wouldn’t have met the future mother of my grandkids.”
I groan. “Gramps, if you say anything weird in front of her over dinner, I will kick you out of your own house.”
“In this weather?” He puts a hand on his chest, as if offended.
“Gramps…” I growl his moniker in warning.
“Fine, but move a little faster. I don’t have decades for you to waste gathering your nerve to ask her out.”
That’s when steps echo down the hallway and a second later, Sierra appears. “Whoa, why is the table not set yet?”
“I’m coming.” I give Gramps one last warning look, and pull up a drawer to collect utensils.
CHAPTER 16
SIERRA
Conor’s hair is silky soft. I could run my fingers through it all day long and in fact, am considering it in the middle of the office because of a strand that’s arched over his forehead. It’s been tempting me since the start of the phone call I’m in, discussing terms with the DJ we’re hiring for the event. The good news is that our desks are pretty wide. If Conor was sitting closer, I’m pretty damn sure I’d have embarrassed myself already.
His beard’s surprisingly soft, too, not at all what I’d have expected. I looked up potential reasons online and concluded that Conor must oil it up and maintain it with way more effort than most guys. Which checks out—guy has a fine work ethic and I appreciate that. I’d also appreciate the feeling of his beard against my skin again.
“—So excited to work with you,” the DJ from New York says into my earpiece.
