Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

“And you already told me you have a few too many wedding events this summer. You hate them. Delegate those to someone else and come and work with me.” He handed her the plans and saw the panic and indecision in her eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Take a look at the plans and think about it. Talk to Paige and Eva. It’s not as if I’m asking you to relocate to Alaska. You can still help with Urban Genie. Just reduce your hands-on work for now. What’s the name of that supplier you’ve been working with?”

“Buds and Blooms.”

“You’d be giving them an opportunity to grow their business, you’d be helping me and you’d be doing work you love. Let someone else deal with the froth of weddings. Design me a roof garden. At least think about it. It’s only for the summer. One project.” His gaze caught on a piece of paper on the table. “What’s that? You wrote me a note?”

She made a strangled sound and scrabbled for the paper. “You can’t read it!”

“You wrote me a note I’m not supposed to read?”

“I assumed I’d be gone by the time you read it.” She snatched it from the table, cheeks scarlet.

“Aren’t you going to at least tell me what it says?”

“I was apologizing for Saturday, that’s all.” She was adorably flustered and Matt resisted the urge to take the note from her fingers.

“Why would you feel the need to apologize?”

“Hey, I don’t know. Maybe because I almost trapped your hand in the door two seconds before I shut you out of your own apartment.” She shoved the paper into the pocket of her jeans and shot toward the door.

“It’s your apartment.” This time he was determined not to let her leave without finishing the conversation. “You live there.”

“But you own it.”

“I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s not you, it’s me. It’s all me.”

They reached the door at the same time.

“Wait.” He planted his hand in the center of the door panel to prevent her leaving and saw her freeze.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to say something and I want to do it without worrying about you severing one of my limbs in the door.” He could have stepped back but he didn’t. If what it took to ge

t her to open up to him was to invade her comfort zone, then he’d invade it. But he’d try and invade it as sensitively as possible.

“Look, I know you think it’s strange that I’d wear glasses when I don’t need them but—”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I do. You’re wondering why on earth anyone would do something that weird.” She’d dipped her head and all he could see was the sweep of her dark lashes and the delicate freckles that dusted her nose like pollen.

“I’m not wondering that because I already know the answer.”

“You do?”

“You think it puts a barrier between yourself and the world. Or rather, men.” The temptation to touch her was almost overwhelming. “What I don’t understand is why you’re so upset that I know.”

“Because it’s a deeply personal thing.”

“That’s what a relationship is, Frankie. It’s about knowing the deeply personal things that other people don’t see. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“And there’s such a thing as ‘too much information.’” If she pressed any closer to the door she would leave an imprint.