Page 15 of Save Me the Trouble
Her chin lifted. “I’d want someone who doesn’t take himself so seriously.”
My jaw clenched. “Miss Johnson.”
She sighed. “I’d want someone who is honest and kind. Driven. Passionate. Someone who makes me want to risk everything to be with him but also makes me feel like there is no risk at all.”
Me.
The thought came unbidden, and I quickly shoved it away.
“Maybe you should make a profile,” I murmured, half-wondering if their fancy systems would match her to me as surely as my body wanted her to.
“Maybe I will,” she returned with a smile. “Shall we continue?”
I nodded.
The interview continued with a few more standard questions. Every so often, between the sincerity I promised, I pretended to be difficult. Just to see her eyes flare at me again and feel the stroke of heat through my body.
Finally, she turned off the camera, the red light dimming. I sat forward, noting how she scissored her bottom lip between her teeth.
“What is it?” I rumbled.
“One last question,” she began, the tenor of her voice changing as her hazel eyes connected with mine.She was going off-script.“Why don’t you want to get married?”
I stiffened. The question shouldn’t come as a surprise; I’d spared no effort to make it clear I was against this whole process; I’d go through with it because I’d made a promise to my grandmother and I was a man of my word, but I didn’t have to like it. And I didn’t have to explain my reasons to the woman sitting in front of me.
But the way Grace asked…the intimate ache in her tone…I gritted my teeth, feeling the walls I’d meticulously built threatening to crack. I stood and looked away, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline that had just witnessed my robotic attempt at the YMCA.
Christ. What the hell was happening to me?
What the hell was she doing to me?
“In my world, it’s hard to distinguish genuine affection from calculated interest,” I said and slowly turned back to her. “Even marriage is more often than not tainted with ulterior motives. Love becomes a commodity, traded and bartered for wealth and power.”
Grace stood, her expression pained as she folded her arms over her chest. “But not everyone is like that.”
I watched her, something sharp twisting at the center of my chest.
“Maybe,” I said, unable to stop some bitterness from creeping into my voice. “But when you’ve been burned once, you learn to avoid the flame.”
Her eyes widened, and I swallowed a curse. I’d said too much—revealed too much.
“Generally speaking,” I added roughly and walked over to the window, resting my forearm on the glass.
The moment sank into silence, weighed with unspoken words. I wanted to pretend like I’d succeeded in erasing the slight revelation about my past, but when I felt the soft press of her hand on my arm, I knew I’d failed. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down my spine.
Our eyes locked, the space between them charged with electricity.
“Not all flames burn,” she whispered. “Some bring light. Warmth.”
Like her.For a fleeting moment, I wondered if Grace was the exception to the rule, a fire that wouldn’t destroy me.
But as quickly as the moment arrived, I pulled back, my familiar walls sealing up the crack those thoughts had slipped through.
“Maybe,” I replied curtly and strode over to my desk to unpack my briefcase. “But it’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”
Grace stood there, a mix of disappointment and understanding in her eyes, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Your turn, Miss Johnson,” I said tightly. “Why this job?” My focus heightened on her. Every move. Every breath. Every beat of her pulse. And every ounce of color that drained from her face as I continued, “You were a business major. Graduated at the top of your class along with being valedictorian. You were pursuing an MBA until you dropped out of the program, and now, you’re working for a dating site that caters to rich assholes. That’s quite the departure.”
