It wasn’t her fault. She’d wanted to get the front office set up for Monday, but everywhere she looked, she saw evidence of Cameron. That was the spot he’d caught her when she’d fallen off the ladder. Over there in the corner was where she’d spent a solid sixty seconds staring at the line of his back muscles pressing against his shirt every time he’d reached over his head to paint. Right here was where they’d stood shoulder to shoulder as she’d told him her vision for the room.
A man shouldn’t be able to imprint himself on her inside of two hours with only a handful of words exchanged, and Trish had managed to convince herself that it was all in her head.
Until she’d collided with him in the hallway. They’d been so close, his big hands clasping her elbows in a way that should most definitely not be erotic, his chest rising and falling in the most tempting way possible.
She’d almost kissed him again.
Trish dropped into her chair and bumped her head against her desk a couple times. Sadly, the contact did nothing to clear the desire from her brain—or her body. I want my boss. I want to kiss him and do the horizontal tango and a few things that are illegal in half a dozen states.
What a mess.
A footstep had her opening her eyes, and she turned her head to press her cheek to her desk. Cameron stood in the middle of the hallway, his body tense and expression unreadable.
Because of course.
She couldn’t just have that brilliant little scene where she played it cool and professional and totally unaffected. No, he’d had to come back out here and see her for the mess she really was. Too late to salvage this. Might as well ride with it. “Can I help you with something?” She kept her tone even despite the fact she had her head on her desk and was obviously in the middle of a lust-driven breakdown.
Cameron looked like he wanted nothing more than to retreat and pretend this interaction had never happened. You and me both, man. He finally cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure. Fine and dandy.” Since he obviously had something to say, she sighed and straightened. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” He shook his head and held up a thin file. “I have a web meeting to finish up a contract with an existing client in an hour. Would you like to sit in on it?”
She cautiously took the file and flipped through it. She didn’t necessarily need hand-holding, but it would be really useful to see how Cameron conducted business—both to see what he’d expect from her and to verify if it was as bad as Aaron seemed to think. But that also meant being in the same room as Cameron, and in close quarters.
It had to happen at some point.
I’m not ready.
You’re never going to be ready.
Wasn’t that the damn truth?
She took a careful breath and smiled brightly. “That would be great. I’ll go over this so I’m up-to-date.” She motioned to the file.
“Great.” He turned and walked away without another word.
Great.
She spent the next forty minutes going over the file to familiarize herself with the account and what Tandem Security did for the client. It was all pretty basic. They’d beefed up the client’s online security and added in a secondary package that was biannual upkeep for any major changes the client wanted. Smart. Keep a long-standing relationship so they come back here if they need more done.
By the time she walked into Cameron’s office, she’d managed to get herself under control. At least until she sank gingerly into the chair next to his in front of the monitor. He’d brought it over so she could be in the camera frame once the video call started, and the positioning put them within easy touching distance. It shouldn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.
To distract herself, she focused on his computer setup. It was more advanced than she’d ever had to deal with, dual monitors showing a variety of programs running that might as well have been Greek for all Trish understood them. She was more than decent with technology, but she’d never come close to what Aaron and Cameron did for a living. It blew her mind a little bit. “Fancy.”
“It does the job.” He hesitated and then tilted the screen so it faced her a little more directly. “This damn client is always late. Every single fucking time.”
Before she thought better of it, she laid her hand on his biceps. “You’re almost finished with this account. Just keep that in mind during the meeting and everything will go swimmingly.”
Cameron’s eyes dropped to where she touched him, and his arm flexed slightly beneath her palm. Slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze dragged up to her mouth, hesitated and then settled on her eyes. “You take positivity to a new level.”
A simple sentence, but the way he watched her didn’t feel simple. It made her stomach twist and ignited the desire she was working so damn hard to keep under wraps. It would be the simplest thing in the world to lean in a little bit, to give him a clear signal that she wanted a repeat of the other night—and more.
He’d kiss her until she forgot her own name, until she wasn’t worried about the future beyond where he’d touch her next. Until she felt the ground steady beneath her feet even as he made her fly. She’d hitch up her skirt and climb into his lap and...
“Trish?”
She blinked, her heart beating too hard. “Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”
Cameron reached up to touch the side of her face, gently guiding her to look at the monitor instead of him. “Client just logged on. I’m going to start the meeting.”
The meeting. Right. She swallowed hard. “Great.”
But he didn’t move back. His breath brushed the shell of her ear, drawing a shiver from her. “After the meeting, we’ll...talk.”
Talk? Or talk?
She stared blindly at the monitor, reality sinking its claws into her and digging deep. The attraction she felt for Cameron wasn’t going away—if anything, it was getting worse. Stronger. And if he meant what she thought—hoped, dreaded—he meant about talking, he was getting swept away alongside her.
Oh God, my brother is going to kill me.
Too bad she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d played it safe for so long and she’d missed her dreams by a mile.
Maybe it was time to throw caution to the wind.
What could possibly go wrong?
CAMERON MANAGED TO get through the final meeting without letting his disdain for the outgoing client show—because he was so damn distracted by Trish’s flowery perfume. No, not perfume. It was too subtle. It was probably lotion or shampoo or something, and the faint scent rose every time she shifted. Her hair brushed his shoulders, and his hands clenched against the need to dig into the thick curls and tilt her head back so he could claim her mouth again.
Focus.
He signed off the meeting and sat back, careful to angle his body away from hers. It didn’t help. Cameron had always considered his office obscenely large compared to the amount of space he actually needed to do