“Looking for a drink?”
Okay. She nodded.
“Me, too.” He stepped past her and dropped his briefcase onto the desk, opened it, and unloaded a file. “Good news is there is plenty to drink.” He closed the case with a pair of sharp clicks and lifted his face. “The bad news is I have scotch and scotch.”
His voice penetrated the dim room, warming the space between them. He lifted a remote, and the lights over a white manteled fireplace flicked on, followed by flames inside. No heat came from it. Must be for mood. She kept herself from letting that thought turn rogue.
The heatless orange flames and lights warmed the space further, making the room look like the inside of a highly polished box of cigars.
“Scotch, then.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she clutched on to the baby monitor. Since her pants had no pockets, she didn’t have much of a choice but carry it wherever she went.
She gazed around the room at the rows of recessed shelves packed with books—mostly industry-related reads. Marketing, design, and technical handbooks, on software she’d heard of but never used, lined the walls. At the back of the room stood a leather couch made to look worn. She wondered if Landon ever took the time to sit on it. If this was her house, she would only sit there, for the view behind it alone.
A bay window took up the entire width of the wall and overlooked several other tall buildings and the lake below. Twinkling, more from the buildings’ windows than the stars, created a pleasant ambience perfect for a glass of scotch.
“Have a seat. I’m sure you’re worn out from chasing Lyon around all day.”
Landon was going to make this easy on her. Kimber decided to let him. Abandoning the monitor on the table in front of the couch, she sat.
* * *
Landon slid his gaze over Kimber’s wild pants, and a smile tugged at his lips. The print was a loud, large pattern consisting of green leaves, bright orange flowers, and a tangle of fruit. Strawberries, limes, lemons… and what he thought may have been half an avocado on her ass. Not that he’d checked her out as she moved to the couch on the other side of the room…
But he had.
He rerouted his focus on the task of pouring two scotches, wondering if she had ever tasted scotch. Wondering if she’d surprise him by having a proclivity for it, or if she’d be like most women he’d encountered and turn her nose up after one sniff.
A test, then.
He dropped a few ice cubes into her glass, leaving his own glass at room temperature, and trayed up their drinks with a bottle of emergency water if she didn’t like what she tasted.
He crossed the room and rested the drinks on the coffee table in front of Kimber, admiring the way her green top set off the red in her hair and made her eyes pop. So much so, that when she’d turned them up to him, he’d frozen solid for a second and nearly fell into their depths. She pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, then her eyebrows pinched before she brought it back to her face, twirling it just so. Almost like she was nervous.
Because she likes you?
Maybe. But he wasn’t going to act on his suspicion, even if Angel was telling him the truth instead of concocting romance where there wasn’t any. Still, Kimber’s fidgeting was… interesting. He logged that thought for later.
He sat on the center cushion, testing the lack of distance between them. She straightened, pushing herself a bit farther into the corner. But not like she was uncomfortable in a bad way. Like she was uncomfortable in a good way. Palming their glasses, he used the forward motion as an excuse to scoot a few inches away from her. Careful not to touch his fingers, she focused on the glass as she took it from his hand.
Also interesting.
A soft, almost fruity fragrance wafted off her skin. But not like the cucumber body wash he’d purchased for her. Like something else…
“You smell like… grapes,” he muttered. Ridiculous as it sounded, that’s what he smelled.
“Oh.” She inspected her hands and he silently swore at his sister. This was Angel’s fault. Her suggestion Kimber liked him had him noticing her. Everything about her. The small swells of her breasts in the loose shirt she wore. Her bare toes, nails painted pale pink. Her neck and the tendrils of flame-red hair tickling skin he imagined sampling with his tongue.
Damn Angel.
He blinked Kimber into focus. She’d set aside her drink and licked one finger before licking the other and scrubbing vigorously with her free hand; bathing herself like a cat.
What the—
She paused when she noticed him watching and held out a palm. A smudge of purple decorated the crook of her first and middle fingers. “Scented markers.”