Page 39 of The Cowboy and the Bombshell
I was completely unprepared to walk downstairs and find Stone standing in the kitchen, to-go mugs of coffee in his hands, while Daphne, sitting at the granite island, looked on with a sly smile. Silas stood at the far end of the kitchen, eyes on Daphne and a scowl on his face.
That was unlike him. Scowls were usually Stone’s department. But, before I could think on that any farther, Stone stepped forward and handed me one of the coffee mugs.
“One cream, one sugar,” he said, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“Oh,” I replied, shocked that he knew my coffee preference. “Um, thank you.”
“We should get going,” Stone barked, moving toward the garage.
“Going where?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
He turned seeming just as confused as I was. “To work.”
“Oh,” I repeated dumbly. “I, um, called an Uber.”
Stone froze, his hand on the doorknob, and stared at me, his brows furrowing. “Well,” he said slowly. “Okay, then.” And he turned, opening the door.
Christ, we were bad at this.
“Or,” I shouted, making him pause and turn back. “I can, you know,” I managed to finish at more reasonable volume. “Cancel it.”
“Sure,” he said, eyes darting from me to Daphne at the island, who was failing to hide her laughter. “So…we should get going.”
“Right.”
Following him into the garage where he unlocked the truck, I glanced at the Mustang, remembering how comfortable our drive home was last night. Worlds apart from this fumbling, awkward morning after scene.
Just another reason why pursuing this was a terrible idea.
As Stone guided the truck through the morning traffic I stared straight ahead, trying to find the words to tell him that last night had been a one-time thing. That there was no reason be awkward because I was prepared to forget the whole thing.
And, yes, a part of me wanted to end things with Stone now so that he wouldn’t be the one to end things with me. It was cowardly, but I couldn’t help it. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck for the next three months working with the stern, grouchy, and oh, so hot guy who had pat me on the head and said “thanks, but no thanks”.
That was a level of humiliation I wasn’t prepared to deal with.
I had almost compiled my speech as we pulled into the parking area. I licked my lips, ready to say something as we exited the truck. I opened my mouth, standing near the hot grille, needing to end this before we entered the building, me as the employee, him as my boss.
But as Stone met me at the front of the truck, looking like he just walked out ofWestern GQ magazine, with his boots, jeans, and suit jacket over a crisp white button up, he did the very last thing I could have expected.
He took my hand.
Like, he reached down, grasped my hand, threaded his fingers through mine, and started walking into the office.
I had absolutely no response to that.
As I trotted along behind him on legs that were practically numb, I wracked my brain for clarity and found none.
We entered the building, moving swiftly to the elevator. I heard a quiet gasp and turned my head, finding us the center of attention as the entire call center team stared at us. Feeling heat rise in my cheeks, I dropped my eyes to our joined hands, once again questioning if this was real life.
The elevator deposited us on the third floor, and Stone moved swiftly toward my office. When we reached it he turned to me, searching my eyes for something, then leaned in and gave me a swift peck on the lips.
“I have a lunch meeting,” he said, like there was nothing unusual about what had just happened. “But I’ll meet you here at five, we can pick up dinner on the way home if you want.”
“Right,” I said, blinking owlishly. “Dinner. Five. Right.”
One side of his mouth quirked up slightly and he released my hand, drawing the back of his knuckles down my cheek. “Have a good day, Penelope.”
Then he turned and was gone. I stood, my mouth open, staring after him for probably a full minute, before someone quietly cleared their throat. Jumping at the sound, I spun quickly to see Moira, a knowing look on her face.
