“Clara....” He groans softly, and I bite down on my lip.
OhGodOhGodOhGod!
My name in his mouth sounds almost sinful, and I haven’t even really provoked him. I wonder what he’ll sound like if I do, and settle on immediately finding out. Don’t leave for tomorrow what you can do today and all that.
“I’m naked in my bed.”
“I’m working.”
“What’s one thing got to do with the other?”
“I need to concentrate. If I have an image of you naked in my mind, I’m going to wreak havoc. Tell me you made that up.”
“Fine! I’m wearing period panties and a baggy T-shirt.”
“You really are naked, aren’t you?” he sounds defeated.
“Yup.”
“I’m a dead man.”
I open my mouth but shut it again when I hear a voice calling to him from his background. “Blake, come on! Don’t leave a girl waiting.”
I feel my insides tighten because I don’t recognize that voice. Certainly not one of his sisters. Oh man, I have to find a way to stop panicking all the time.
“I’ll leave you to get back to work.”
“I have a bachelorette party here. Half the women are drunk already.”
“Did they hire a stripper too?”
“Over my dead body will I have strippers in my bars.”
“Blake! Come on. We need more tequila,” yet another woman’s voice calls from his end of the line.
Many customers at the bar call him by his name. He has this approachable quality to him that instantly pulls you in, makes you feel like you’ve known him for ages. I’ve watched him with customers, and socializing comes easy to him. Almost as easy as it takes actors to slip into their characters. Only Blake isn’t acting. He’s genuinely a warm and funny person, and I can’t get enough of him.
“Go back to the customers,” I urge.
“Talk to you tomorrow? I like hearing your voice.”
Those simple words fill me with joy and giddiness.
“Sure. Good night, Blake.”
“Good night.”
I click off the phone, placing it on the floor next to my bed. Ugh, my alarm is going to ring in five hours. But still, even though I know I should go to sleep, I allow myself a few minutes to bask in my giddiness. I can’t wait to return home and pepper him with kisses, climb in his lap. I am going to make Blake the happiest man. Yes, I am. He deserves it, and ahem, maybe he’ll even fall in love with me.
I sigh happily into my pillow, even though I should know better than to hope like a romantic fool.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Blake
“Sinclair agreed to our terms,” I inform Alice over the phone while I hurry up toward Ghirardelli Square, where I’m meeting Summer and Daniel.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Alice’s shrill voice makes me wince.