Pretend You're Mine(59)
“Stressed? What the hell for? You’ve done this before. Your dad and I have everything covered.”
“It’s not work.” Luke used some water from his thermos to scrub the drywall dust off his hands.
“Would it have something to do with a certain female office manager who looks like she wants to jump you one minute and strangle you the next?”
“So it’s not just my imagination?”
Frank sighed and leaned against the truck. “Son, let me tell you something about women. Don’t piss them off under any circumstances. It’s not worth it. You’re risking life and limb over something that probably doesn’t matter in the first place. My advice? If you pissed her off, apologize before she turns your life into a living hell.”
It was Luke’s turn to sigh. “Should I really be taking advice from a man who’s never been married?”
“Don’t have to jump off the cliff to know you die at the bottom.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
One Week...
Harper had decided to let Luke have his way and give him some space to be stupid, but the idiot was driving himself out of his own house and making his last days home miserable.
When he texted her to ask her if she could come back to work for an hour or so that evening to help with a proposal, Harper decided to put a stop to the madness.
She dressed for war. The tight pencil skirt stopped a few inches short of modest and she buttoned herself into a tight, short-sleeved blouse in eye-popping red. She decided to forgo a bra, and shimmied into a simple black thong. Tall, strappy sandals completed the package.
She dried her hair with a little extra volume and painted on smoky eyes and plump lips.
Harper gave her reflection a nod in the mirror and slid on her sunglasses. She would win this.
She made sure to get back to the office before Luke and was already efficiently entering numbers into the accounting system when she heard him return.
She didn’t turn when he came in, just kept typing.
He stopped at her desk and dropped a greasy paper bag on it.
“I brought you dinner.”
Harper turned in her chair towards him. “Thanks, boss. That was nice of you.” He was dressed in his standard uniform of worn jeans and soft t-shirt. She wondered if her heart would always pound over the way the cotton clung to his chest and shoulders
His eyes immediately tracked to the exposed skin below her neck. She knew the second he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. The muscle in his jaw flexed.
Harper bit back a smile. She turned her chair back to her desk to resume typing.
Luke stayed put, cleared his throat. “You look ... nice.”
“Oh, thanks,” Harper said brightly. “I was going to see if Gloria wanted to go out tonight after I finish up here.”
“Out,” he repeated flatly.
“Yeah, blow off some steam.”
Harper hit the print button on the screen and pushed back from her desk. “Excuse me,” she said, as she brushed past Luke.
“It might be pretty late,” he ventured.
Her back to him, Harper smiled. Who knew torture could be so much fun?
“I don’t mind. I’m happy to help you finish up the RFP. Damn, out of paper again.”
Harper bent at the waist to check under the counter for paper.
“Luke? Do you know where the paper is?”
Wordlessly, he appeared at her side. He opened the next cabinet over and knelt down. Harper moved, deliberately putting her breasts in his direct line of sight. “Oh good, there’s another ream.” She reached past him, brushing her breast against his arm.
Her nipples hardened instantly and Luke jumped back as if he had been burned. Harper bent lower, feeling her skirt ride up in the back, and grabbed the paper. “Thanks,” she said, standing back up. “I’ll put printer paper on the office supply list.”
Luke was running a hand over the back of his head. Harper spotted the familiar bulge between his legs and bit the inside of her cheek.
She strutted back to her desk, enjoying the tease of the fabric over her nipples.
“Um, why don’t you email me the draft you have so far and I’ll read it while you eat?” Luke made the suggestion without looking at her.
“Sounds good.”
She nibbled at the cheesesteak he brought her, but she was more interested in how his eyes tracked to her through the glass of his office.
She took a minute to check her email and saw that her job interview in Fremont had been confirmed for the following week. The familiar buzz of excitement at a potential new start didn’t appear this time. In fact, all she really felt was a ball of ice forming in her stomach. For the first time in her life, the appeal of a fresh start wasn’t there.