Page 57 of Fall for Me

“My goodness, that would be wonderful!” Joyce said. “Seamus, will you give your dad Chelsea’s number?”

Seamus opened his mouth, but I spoke. “Seamus doesn’t have my number. But if you have a pen?”

I jotted down my number on the message pad Joyce had handed to me. When I was done, she traded me for a cardstock flyer. “This is both of them. If you think of anything.”

“Joyce—” Seamus said.

“No.” I gripped the card. “This is good.” On the front was a photo of Seamus and his doppelgänger father, one young and one old, both handsome and looking like they didn’t particularly like having their photo taken. On the backside was all the contact info—both of their office and cell numbers, the office email, website… “I’m excited to have something to plan, honestly.”

Joyce smiled at me, clearly delighted at the connection. Then she turned her attention back to Jude, who was snapping his hand and bouncing it against his palm, ever the happy-go-lucky Jude. “Okay, but then what happened?” she asked him.

While Jude hopped right back into his anecdote, I slipped the card in my bag.

Seamus was still staring at the slip of paper Joyce had handed him.

The one with my number on it.

Oh God, did he think this whole visit was some kind of ruse for me to get my number in his hands? But it had been Joyce’s idea. Still, I suddenly felt awkward as anything. “Can you give that to your dad?” I asked. It was for him, after all.

Joyce let out a peal of laughter at Jude’s story, and Jude leaned on the counter, thrilled to have an audience.

Seamus folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

My stomach plunged. But what could I say, no? That we were late for lunch? I knew Jude didn’t care about that, but what would he think about me going to the back with Seamus?

But Jude wasn’t Eli, not by a long shot. He didn’t think he knew what was best for me. Besides, he was so absorbed in his story I could tell him there was an elephant I needed to see to and he wouldn’t even blink.

“Uh, sure,” I said to Seamus. “Jude,” I interrupted. “We’ll be right back.”

Jude waved absently. “But Joyce, darlin’, you’ll never guess who was behind that curtain…”

Joyce clapped her hands together. “No.”

Seamus held the door for me, making the electronic bell chime, and I hesitated only another moment before walking toward him, if only to quiet the bell which felt as if it was an alarm going off.

I should have said no to talking privately.

I should have made something up and dragged Jude out of there. Because as I passed Seamus, inhaling the soapy, musky scent of him, everything from the other day hit me all at once. How he’d held me against him as I’d sobbed uncontrollably, fear rocking my body, though I’d never felt so safe.

The way he’d held my hands so tenderly.

The way he’d breathed on my ear; sank his teeth down…

Heat prickled through me at the memory alone, making my whole body nearly tremble.

“You okay?” Seamus asked, and I realized I was trembling right now, in the doorway under the stretch of his arm. His hand went to the small of my back to steady me, but that only worsened the feeling.

“Yes,” I said as the door shut behind us. No. “I’m fine.” I’m not fine.

Still, I lifted my chin up and walked briskly down the hallway, my back to him. Just ask him what he wants to say. That’s all you have to do.

It would be about the other day, I knew. How it was a mistake, and he was sorry. I’d agree, and we could be done with this.

But when I reached his office and spun around, another wave of that heat went through me at him standing there.

I wasn’t going to make it. All he’d have to do was step toward me and I’d melt, I’d fucking melt under that gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, but his eyes went to my hands, then down to my knees. My skin tingled under the path of his gaze.

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