Page 23 of Accidentally In Love

“Well that’s a shame. I certainly have connections to more people in Hollywood. If you’re good, the dream could be yours. Together we would be a powerful force.”

Together? Shit. Moving a little fast aren’t we.“I take it you’d much rather live in California than a little town in Texas.”

She slid her hand across the table and covered his. “With the right man, absolutely.”

There was nothing. No spark. No anticipation. Only a sense that this woman wanted a completely different life than he did. Nothing wrong with the life she wanted. It just wasn’t going to happen withhim. “I don’t want to leave Somewhere…ever.” The realization came slowly, but it was the truth. He didn’t want to leave his home. Even if he did hit it big, he’d fight to stay in his home town.

“Oh,” she said, her voice shorter and less husky. She sat back in her chair, pulling her hand back from his and into her lap. “You know, I usually get at least a small show of interest within the first few minutes of a date. A glance. A touch. A something. But you’ve just stared at me like you’re trying to force yourself to stay focused.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure what’s come over me. It’s just that I’m worried about someone I just met and—”

“You’re more into her than me?” The question came out softly, resignation heavy in her voice.

“I didn’t mean to be. I wanted to give you every chance. I wanted this to work—”

“The heart wants what the heart wants right?” Her words were understanding, but her tone had taken on a sharp icy quality that made Mick’s insides cringe. “Fuck you, asshole. If you were so into some other chick, the last thing you should’ve done was let medriveall the way down to this godforsaken dirt hole.”

The entire restaurant had stilled. Even the waiters were frozen in place with plates of food in their hands. Mick shifted uncomfortably. He deserved what she was saying. Maybe not quite as publicly as she was taking it, but she had every right to be upset. Angry. Still, calling Somewhere a godforsaken dirt hole was a little too much for his tolerance.

“You know, if you feel that strongly about my home. I’m glad this came out so quickly. I know absolutely without a shadow of a doubt, I could never be happy with someone who didn’t love this little town as much as I do. It was my mistake to bring you here. For that I apologize.”

She huffed and strutted away, leaving him sitting alone at their table. As embarrassing as the entire debacle had been, his only thought was getting back to Laurel.

Chapter 11

This is crazy. You are crazy.She couldn’t help it though and two seconds later she was cruising by the large picture windows of the Boiler Room. Just one look. If they weren’t visible from her car, that was it. She was going home and pretending that she hadn’t just stalked her client on his date.

But there they were.

Chatting. Laughing. They didn’t have food yet, so they’d probably just sat down. It was the beginning of a great date. Felicity looked pleased and dressed to the nines as usual. Laurel didn’t think she could remember ever seeing Felicity in a dress that didn’t show off her “assets” as the woman liked to call them. She was certainly showing them off tonight, obvious even from the street. Felicity wanted the finer things in life. She liked money and traveling, but deep down there was a hopeless romantic who really just wanted a man to sweep her off her feet. Laurel wasn’t sure Mick would be that guy for her long-term, but if he was looking for a Hollywood style date, Felicity was the perfect match.

Pain seared through Laurel’s chest, tightening until she had to blink away gathering tears. She couldn’t care about a man this much. Not after only a few days. But she did.

She wanted Mick. Wanted to hear his voice. Touch him. See him look at her again the way he had in her room the day before. He’d offered it right then and there. Everything but cancel the date himself, but she’d backed away. She’d been a coward, scared to let herself get attached to someone so soon after making a clean break from Lance. But Mick wasn’t Lance. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would use her and keep her as a trophy to be paraded around in front of his friends. Being married to a man like Lance had made her hyper vigilant since. She was so careful with the men she interviewed and matched. Assholes and douchebags didn’t make it past her first interview, no matter how much money they tossed her way. There had been an entire file cabinet devoted to the men she’d rejected from her matchmaking business. A cabinet Lance would probably open.

A shudder shook Laurel’s shoulders and she turned her car away from the restaurant and headed back to her house. It wouldn’t do her any good to think about how Lance was going to ruin the business she’d so painstakingly built in Dallas. The clients that trusted her—women and men. Some had already called her and she’d had to turn them away. The non-compete specifically said she couldn’t contract clients from the business in Dallas. Felicity was a loophole, since she technically hadn’t ever signed a contract. Even so, Laurel had made sure to tell Felicity not to mention anything to Lance about her new startup in Somewhere.

Laurel parked her car in front of her porch and walked slowly up the few stairs to her front door. The porch light put off a soft white glow, illuminating most of the large covered porch. She unlocked the front door and slipped into the dark house, feeling her way through the foyer. Moping didn’t require lights or a bra. She found the banister and kicked off her boots before starting the climb. Her bra was next and by the time she’d reached the second floor she was shimmying out of her jeans. The air was cold. Mick had already pointed out that her house apparently didn’t heat well. A problem she’d solve later.

Right now she didn’t care if her feet and hands were numb. Numb was good. She climbed into her big bed and under the sheets she had, pulled a pillow to her chest and sobbed until there were no more tears.

“Laurel,”Mick bellowed, pounding his knuckles against her front door. Her car was in the driveway. The porch light was on, but he hadn’t seen lights on anywhere else in the house. It was only ten. Surely she wasn’t asleep already. “Laurel,” he called out again, his tone rising, desperation raising his pitch. The date with Felicity had been less than pleasant and had he not been already hopelessly hooked on Laurel, perhaps he would’ve enjoyed her company. Beyond the flashy clothes and aggressively-confident attitude, she’d seem like a decent person.Maybe.After the scene she’d made in the restaurant, he wondered.

The waiter had taken forever to bring the check. At least it’d seemed that way. A few minutes tapping his foot on the floor had felt like an hour.

Now he was here. In front of her house. Waiting again.

“Please, Laurel.”

The deadbolt in the door clicked and a moment later the large oak door opened to reveal Laurel, hair loose and flowing around her shoulders, face a little red. Even her eyes looked like she’d been—crying. “Are you okay?” He entered, stepping around her into the foyer. “What’s wrong?” He peered into the shadows of her house, but nothing seemed out of place. No sign of the ex waiting in the living room. Mick turned back to her and noticed for the first time she was wearing little more than a t-shirt and panties. Her lips were parted and she was staring at him like he’d grown an extra head.

He closed the door behind him, locking it and then reached out, laying a hand gently on her shoulder. “I’ve decided being your client isn’t going to work out.”

“No?” She whispered, confusion etched in the line of her usually smooth brow.

“If you don’t want me here. I need to know right now.”

The lines in her face vanished. She placed her hand on his forearm, sliding it up toward his bicep as she stepped closer, bringing her body and her light floral scent flush to his. “I want you here,” she answered, pressing her face into his chest. Her breath was warm and her curves conformed to his body banishing every doubt he’d wrestled with in the car about her returning his attraction—his affection—for her. He’d progressed past attraction, headlong into affection and and overwhelming desire to keep her nearby at all times.

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