Flirt With Me (With Me in Seattle 17)

“Agreed.” He leans over and brushes his fingertip over my cheek, then comes away with an eyelash. “Blow.”

“Blow?”

“Yeah, you blow it away and make a wish.”

I pucker my lips and blow, and then laugh a little. “This is crazy.”

“Which part?”

“The whole situation. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m so far out of my comfort zone, I’m not sure where it went.”

“Comfort zones are overrated.” He winks. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t poaching on someone else’s territory. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not that. We haven’t known each other very long, but I like flirting with you, Maeve.”

Yeah, well, the feeling is entirely mutual.

“Let’s move on to the other house,” I suggest, and climb into my car.

Good God, he’s potent. I’ve never had a client who had such an impact on my hormones. It’s unsettling. And ridiculous.

But it’s also kind of fun.

What’s the harm in a few mild flirtations? It spices up the day. He’s charming, sexy, and I haven’t had anyone in my life to flirt with in longer than I care to remember.

I just have to remember that he is a client, and I have to maintain my professionalism.

After that brief pep talk, we pull into the driveway of the last house for the day. I can’t help but admire the sleek lines of his fancy car or the way he looks when he steps out of it—tousled hair and dark aviators on his face, highlighting his square jaw.

And those muscles…

I’ve read about men who just pick up women and have their way with them, moving them about to suit their needs and desires. I can’t say I’ve ever had that life experience.

But it’s something to daydream about.

“Keep looking at me like that,” he says softly, “and I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“Yes, you will.” I unlock the door and walk inside, willing my hormones to calm the hell down. “This home sits on about two acres and only has partial views of the water.”

I describe the pros and cons of the building and then step through the sliding glass doors to breathe in the salty sea air as Hunter has a look around.

Get yourself together, Maeve.

He’s just a man.

He’ll buy a house, come here once or twice a year, and I’ll likely hardly ever see him again. I mean, sure, I can flirt with him, but there’s no need to behave like a randy teenager.

“That view is a no-go,” he says as he joins me on the deck. “It’s nice, but for the price, I want more water view.”

“I understand. Well, we have an appointment to see the one you pointed out to me tomorrow. And I can show you others, as well. There are plenty of options.”

His gaze falls to my mouth. “I’ll see anything that you want to show me.”

I lick my lips. “I’m sure we’ll find you the perfect home.”

His lips twitch. “The house. Right.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

He helps me lock up the house once more, and when we’re outside, I hold out my hand for him to shake. It seems silly, but I’m not exactly ready to jump in his arms and kiss him silly.

I don’t want the man to take out a restraining order or anything.

“See you tomorrow,” I say politely.

His hand is warm and firm in mine. Those eyes hold humor and interest. “See you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand and unload clean glasses from the dishwasher behind the bar. Keegan’s stocking liquor and making googly eyes at Izzy, his very pregnant wife. Not that I blame him. She’s beautiful and simply glows with her pregnancy.

“Tell you what?”

“That we had a famous person in the pub yesterday. One who, by the way, I flirted with all night last night and ended up being my client today. If you’d have told me last night, I wouldn’t have been blindsided today. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have flirted with him so much either.”

“Jesus, Maeve, I can’t be responsible for giving you the lowdown on every single bleeding customer who walks through my doors, can I?”

“Famous ones, yes.” I set the last clean glass on the shelf and get to work washing the dirty ones. “You could have said: ‘By the way, that man down the bar is a famous fighter.’”

“That’s just ridiculous.”

I turn to Izzy for backup. “Tell him it’s not ridiculous.”

“I’m not getting in the middle of this. Oh, and look at that, it’s time for my nap.” She kisses Keegan, waves at me, and escapes up the back stairs to the apartment above.

“How’s she feeling?” I ask my brother.

“Ready to have a wee babe,” he says with a proud smile. “And I’m ready right with her. It feels like this pregnancy has taken forever.”