Bedwrecker(36)

Keen gives me an easy smile, and doesn’t it just make me go boneless. “I guess we’re spending the day together in Santa Monica?”

Locking the door behind me, I turn back around and slip my keys in my purse, only to be brought face-to-face with his incredibly good looks and have to pretend I don’t even care. “Yes. The distribution center is more like a giant wardrobe closet and the workroom is there too. It really is the best place for you to get a look at this upcoming season’s collection. Oh, and I spoke to Jordan—he would like us to join him tonight to celebrate the completion of the spring line. Did you bring a change of clothes?”

Although changing would be a shame.

The designer suit he’s wearing fits his body to perfection. Broad-shouldered, visibly fit, and attractive as hell in that suit, I have to remember not to stare at him.

Do not stare.

DO. NOT. STARE.

Remember what he did to you.

“I threw a few things in a bag,” he answers, taking a step away from me. Okay, uncertain what that means, I guess what he is wearing is perfectly fine too.

Talk about being in a hurry.

Swift movements take him down the two stairs with the ease of a man full of confidence. Any nerves seem to have completely dissipated.

Damn him.

Me, on the other hand, I’m taking baby steps while my legs return from their temporary stint of insanity.

I’m also cursing the grand idea I had about wearing my very own highest pumps because I wanted to be able to look Keen in the eye. You know, in case I need to remind him where he can go—like to hell, which I really don’t have reason to right this minute since he’s being so professional.

Just like Makayla said he would be.

And I’m not sure how I feel about that. To be honest, I wanted him on his knees, begging for my forgiveness. Not that I would be giving it. Doling out frantic kisses and wild groping. Not that I would be participating. Then again, I knew that was not going to happen.

Not his style.

Way too much bad boy in him for that.

The simple heartfelt I am sorry did come close, though, and that, coupled with what Makayla told me, managed to crack my armor a little. No worries; I glued it back together and am ready to do this.

Professional.

That is me.

For now, anyway.

Looking ten degrees of sharp, he waits for me at the bottom of the steps. In my perusal of him, I can see his hand twitching, like he wants to offer it to me. Then again he is probably just worried I might topple over these mountains of shoes and land face-first right on top of him.

Under any other circumstances, the idea would be appealing. Not these ones, though.

Making it down the stairs and up the walkway seems like a really great accomplishment. Wonder if I should grab another pair of shoes? Looking back at my door I consider it, but then I turn back and see Keen opening the passenger door like such a gentleman that I feel like a fool asking him to wait while I grab a comfortable pair of shoes.

What am I, eighty?

No, I am woman, hear me roar.

I can do this.

As I sink into his car, it takes me a moment to pull my legs in. Not on purpose. Well, yes, maybe on purpose.

That’s when I notice the way his eyes are devouring me.

Like what you see, buddy? Oh, well you fucked it up, and it’s not on the table any longer.

The smile on my lips can’t be denied, nor can the pitter-patter of those really annoying butterflies in my stomach.

Those really need to calm themselves down.

I can’t deal with them right now.

As soon as Keen gets in the car, his fresh, clean scent is the only thing I can smell. No lingering smell of sex after all.

How infuriating.

After a quick glance my way to make sure I’m buckled in, Keen starts the engine and it roars to life, the sweet purr making a ghost of a smile appear on his lips. Boys and their toys. Yes, I know men. And I know I know men, yet my pulse still begins to race at the sight of his easy grin.

I can’t do this.

I can’t.

I.

CANNOT.

BE.

ATTRACTED.

TO.

HIM.

ANYMORE.

Absolutely cannot.

Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

Without thinking about the consequences of what I’m about to do, I’m placing my hand on the gearshift to stop him from putting it in drive. And without even thinking anything through, I’m talking—spewing, actually. “Before we leave, I think you should know, I have no intention of sleeping with you ever again.”

There!

Now that I’ve taken care of that there should be no more sexual tension lingering in the air between us.

Right?

Pulling his features together, he slowly looks over at me. “Yeah, I got that. You made it pretty clear the other day.”

Our eyes lock, and my pulse is racing. “Just making sure we’re on the same page and that we can both keep this professional.”