22. Just a Passing Fancy
Jared
When I emerge from the kitchen area and rejoin the party, I’ve calmed down a bit. Both from the anger at Harrison’s untimely and unwanted appearance and that moment I had with Sophie.
I shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
The way she got rid of Harrison, taking charge like that, snapped something inside me. It was easy to pretend I’m not attracted to her when we were at odds, trying our best to one-up each other. But having her step in, take charge, and get me out of a bad situation before I made it even worse, then look at me with uncertainty in those big blue eyes, like she feared she might’ve overstepped…
I couldn’t let her go on for a single moment without knowing how grateful I was. And after that? Well, my body realized we were all alone. That she looked fucking gorgeous in that dress, and I’d made her feel self-conscious about wearing it for no reason other than to keep the wall I’d built around myself intact.
I had to tell her she looked beautiful. I had to make her see I’m not quite the asshole I’d been portraying. And when the words that had been screaming in my head came tumbling out, her face bloomed with color. Her pupils dilated. And her chest began to heave with each breath she took.
Her body reacted to my words, my closeness, even if her mind didn’t quite know how to handle them. And my body reacted to her body’s reaction.
If Scotty hadn’t interrupted us, I would’ve asked for a kiss. Maybe more.
Fuck. I can’t let that happen. It doesn’t matter how much I want her.
She’s my assistant. My closest employee. If we blur the lines and get intimate with each other, no good can come of it. I’ve seen it happen before. Relationships with employees never end well. Things get messy, and I don’t do messy.
My eyes find her across the room with Scotty, and I can’t tear them away. That long, thick red hair, tied up in a tail that begs me to wrap it around my fist and pull her head back for a kiss. Her bright sapphire eyes. That little black dress, hugging her mouthwatering curves and making me desperate to take it off and explore what’s hiding underneath.
And while her physical appearance is, in itself, enough to make my body go a little haywire, it’s not the only thing that turns me on about her. She’s a feisty little thing, brave enough to stand up to me when I’m giving her my worst. She gives as good as she gets, never wilting or scurrying away when I lash out.
She’s funny as hell, and has had no problem wrapping everyone she meets around her finger. Even me, though until tonight, I’ve refused to let her see that.
I sit down at an empty table and sigh. I can’t let that happen again, even if it means making sure we’re never alone…which would be practically impossible, considering her position as my assistant.
But I have to try.
Even if Sophie wasn’t my employee, I couldn’t allow myself to give into the desire flooding my veins. She doesn’t strike me as the casual hookup type, and that’s all it could ever be for me. I don’t do relationships, and she has the R-word written all over her.
I grew up in a house of heartbreak. Watching my mom grieve for my father for so many years, then open her heart to someone new and have that implode left a bitter taste in my mouth. Add that to my own failed attempt at a real relationship when I was younger, and my mind was made up a long time ago.
Romantic relationships just aren’t for me. I refuse to let someone rip my heart out again, whether by betraying me, deserting me, or leaving this world, completely, like my dad. And even if I found someone I’d risk all that pain for, how would I know she loves me for me, and not the advantages in life my money and position can offer?
I’ve been down that road before, and I’m not going down it again. For anyone.
My gaze finds Sophie, and our eyes meet for a beat before she quickly looks away. The sparks between us are palpable, zipping through me like a lightning strike. I grit my teeth against the feeling, forcing myself to remain where I am.
I’ve got to get this shit under control. I cannot cross that line with her. I need to remain professional and detached, and even be a bit of an asshole, if necessary. Anything to keep myself from making a mistake I’m sure to end up regretting.
I push myself up and head toward the bar, stopping at the opposite end from where Sophie and Scotty are, huddled up now with Dean and Sam. I watch them as I order another bourbon, my jaw tightening when Sophie bursts into laughter at something Sam said and swats him playfully on the arm.
As the bartender hands me the drink, Sam’s gaze lands on me. His eyebrows shoot up, and he leans in to say something to the others before sliding away and heading toward me. I take a long draw from my glass, ignoring the burn of alcohol in my throat as Sam approaches.
“What are you doing?” he asks, nodding toward the glass in my hand.
“What does it look like? I’m having a drink.”
“You never drink,” he says, tilting his head to study me. “And that’s not your first one tonight.”
“So?”
I know I’m being a dick, but I can’t stop it. An ugly feeling took root inside me when Sophie touched him, and I don’t know how to shake it. A primitive voice inside me is demanding I challenge him. To prove my dominance to myself, Sam, and Sophie.
“I heard he had the nerve to show up here tonight. Is that what has you so upset?”