“Thanks.” Hank calmly stood his ground.
In the past, she’d misjudged Hank’s lack of machismo and unassuming way as weakness. But ever since the wedding, she was coming to see that Hank wasn’t a pushover, not by a long shot.
Goose bumps fanned out over her skin in response to her newfound perspective, and the conference room suddenly felt like a sauna. If Hank agreed to her proposition, she’d need to suppress her longing for some kind of personal relationship. All the better, since getting intimately involved with him would mess with her head, or worse, her heart.
“Lock up, okay?” Jackson slapped his hand against the door frame twice before leaving.
Cat faced Hank once they were alone. “So, will you join me for dinner?”
“You’re already overpaying me for this project, Cat.” He sank back into his chair and stretched out his legs while studying her. “You don’t need to humor me with a dinner.”
“I’m not,” she said, hedging. Her plans would take finesse, not a steamroller. “I’m too hungry to wait until I get back to the city, and I hate to eat alone. My brother did blow me off, as you saw.”
He smiled. “I suspect you don’t get snubbed too often.”
“You Connecticut boys seem to be making a habit of it lately.” She wondered if he’d pick up on the reference to his behavior on Block Island. Although grateful he didn’t take advantage of her that night, part of her burned for his touch.
He stared at her, clearly considering his options. Finally he gestured toward his dirty work boots and clothes. “I need to shower first.”
“Is that an invitation?” Cat lifted a single brow and waited for his reaction to the flirtatious remark, enjoying the buzz she got from teasing him.
His face filled with color before he crossed his arms in front of his chest and narrowed his gaze. Sweet warmth flowed through her veins like melted caramel. Then she remembered that, as much as she loved the flirtation, she’d have to quit it if they became partners.
“Why do you get such a kick out of taunting me?” he finally asked.
“I like the way you blush.” She grinned, waiting for the appearance of the dimple on his left cheek. “Keeps you honest, and reminds me of Vivi. Neither of you hides your emotions well.”
“Unlike you?” His green eyes shimmered.
“Unlike me.” Her reserved mask suddenly tightened like a plastic bag, depriving her of oxygen.
“You should know something, Cat.” He stood up and leaned in close, placing his palm against the conference table so his chest grazed her arm. A heady combination of testosterone and anticipation made her dizzy. “You don’t hide your emotions as well as you think.”
Their eyes locked for a moment, the golden flecks in his green irises blazing. To break the spell, she forced a sigh. “Now you have X-ray vision?”
“Like Superman. So you should know you’re not always cloaked in lead.” He dropped his gaze to her lips. “But you do surprise me now and then.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated, afraid to reveal more. “So, shall I follow you home? Let’s take my car to dinner since I doubt I can climb into your truck in these heels.”
Hank’s reaction to the sight of her four-inch-high Jimmy Choos reminded her of a Scream mask. She’d have scoffed, but she was too busy praying he’d accept her proposal.
Silence stretched between them while he appeared to be wrestling with the decision. Finally he tugged at his earlobe. “Fine. Follow me and think about where you want to eat.”
Fifteen minutes later, Cat parked along the curb in front of a cute, beige Dutch colonial set upon an immaculately manicured, emerald-green lawn. The window boxes contained a variety of flowers and ivy. Neatly pruned boxwoods and rosebushes filled the flower beds.
Black shutters flanked each window, and the brick-red roof provided a nice contrast to the tableau. The 1950s television show scene lacked only the white picket fence. Yet it had a feminine quality she couldn’t quite align with Hank, who was 100 percent male.
Hank stood beside his truck waiting for her. As she walked along the driveway, a petite blond woman jogged toward him from behind the house.
“You’re late, Hank,” she said. “Now I’m going to be late.”
“Late for what?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
“Class!” She scowled until she noticed Cat halt in front of them.
Cat’s mind blanked. Who was this pretty woman? Blond like Amy, but younger.
“Oh, hell. It’s Thursday.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I totally forgot, Jenny.”