Chapter Five

Brielle

He is not just punctual, he's early, I note when I pull into the parking lot of my office at eight-fifty-two and see an unfamiliar truck already occupying a space. Good to know we have that in common.

I step out of my car, wincing at the humidity that already seems a bit oppressive for so early on a mid-April morning. I look in my purse, noting with satisfaction that I remembered to pick up a ponytail band and my small brush.

That is the first order of business today, get all this hair pulled up out of my way, I tell myself as I lock my car and walk toward the door.

As I move up the sidewalk, I get the sensation of being watched, but since I opted to have the front windows of my office tinted, I cannot confirm my suspicion. It is not until I walk through the door that I know my hunch is right.

"Morning, Rita," I say as I enter, but my attention is immediately drawn to my left, where the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on is occupying the leather armchair and staring back at me.

Well, hello there, tall dark and handsome…

I feel certain that my smile is over bright, and I'm struggling to project professionalism when I say, "Good morning, nice to meet you in person, finally. Just let me grab a few things and we'll get started."

He responds only with a cool nod, his face devoid of expression, and a wave of confusion courses through me.

Huh. Maybe he isn’t a morning person either?

I reluctantly swing my gaze toward Rita, who has cleared her throat to get my attention and is holding out a small stack of messages.

"From the voicemail," she says, thrusting them my direction.

"Thanks," I reply. "I'll just be a moment."

With another glance toward my new client, I step around the reception desk and walk down the narrow hallway behind Rita, trying my best to project an easy confidence as I leave Allen's presence.

Once I reach my destination and quietly close the door, I let my breath out again.

That man is stunning, I admit to myself in the mirror over the half-bath sink as I quickly brush my hair up and into a ponytail. More than I even thought possible. Black hair, goatee, blue-grey eyes, strong jaw, and I bet those muscles are not confined to his arms. I wonder if he's got washboard abs…

That line of thought makes my cheeks tinge pink, and I purposefully shut it down.

Client. Property. Focus.

I take several deep breaths to center myself, then check my appearance one last time in the mirror before I get moving again.

A sharp right turn leads to my office, where I place the messages on my desk and pick up the folder with today's showing list, before I head back to the reception area to begin my day with a man that I swear could easily grace the cover of any magazine.

As I step back into the front lobby, Allen's gaze sweeps over me, from my head to my shoes and back again. The glimmer of heat that shines in his eyes is a mere flash - I blink, and it's gone again, his face schooled into a neutral expression.

What was that?

Trying my best to not make my sudden and intense attraction to him obvious, I gently clear my throat.

"Ready to go?" I ask breezily.

The one-word, sexily growled answer from him stirs my arousal from embers to full-on flames.

"Yes," Allen says, piercing me with a gaze full of lustful promise before his emotionless mask slips back into place.

Allen

God help me, she smells like vanilla. I pick up the scent the moment she walks in the front door of her office, and it makes me so hard that I'm glad I'm sitting down so I can hide my reaction to her.

Brielle speaks, but I honestly do not hear a damn thing she says because I am so focused on her full lips and wondering what they might feel like, taste like, pressed against mine.

When she stops and looks at me expectantly I merely nod, hoping like hell that the raging lust I am feeling for her is not advertised all over my face.

She falters, and I can see a thin ribbon of confusion stream across her face before she turns her attention to her receptionist, who has been watching Brielle with a slightly amused expression.

Brielle excuses herself and disappears down the hall, and I return my focus to looking out the window and thinking about math equations, and basketball, and anything else that will make my erection disappear before I have to stand and walk with her.

Mary.

That not only douses the flames, but it turns the guilt-o-meter up a thousand percent.

Mary would want you to move on, part of my brain reminds me, and I hold in a snarl of contempt.

Approaching footsteps garner my attention, and I swivel my head just in time to see Brielle come into view again. I cannot help myself. Despite my best efforts, I cannot help but stare, long and hard, up and down her delectable little body.

Keep your shit together, my psyche prods, and the lust is shoved roughly aside.

"Ready to go?" Brielle asks, and my self-control is severely tested at her unintended innuendo.

Like you would not believe, I almost blurt out, but catch myself.

"Yes," I manage, my voice a growl with the effort it takes to rein myself in.

I stand, reciting the Pythagorean theorem in my head, and follow her outside, purposely looking anywhere but at that firm butt of hers showcased so nicely by her jeans.

"I thought we'd ride together if that's all right. We can take my car," Brielle offers.

No, no, no, that is a horrible idea. Proximity is a recipe for disaster.

"No," I bark, a little sharper than I intended, and notice her flinch at my tone.

Smooth, dude, real smooth. You make it sound like she has the plague or something.

Frustrated with myself, I try to explain to erase the surprise - and hurt that she is unable to hide quickly enough - flitting across her features.

"I think separate cars is a good idea. That way when we're done you don't have to drive me back."

"Oh," she says, and looks a little disappointed before she shrugs her shoulders. "Makes sense, I guess. Very well, then. Follow me."

She pivots and moves to her vehicle as I continue toward mine, berating myself with every step.

It's going to be a very long day.