Perfectly Inappropriate

Noah hesitated and searched her eyes. “Did you contact him at all to see if he was taking anyone on?”

“God no,” Olivia said with a loud laugh. “Reaching that particular dream is not that easy.”

“I’m going to have to disagree with you there.” He used both hands now, working them over her foot. “Dream big then work for it. That’s what makes dreams happen.”

The knowing look she gave him put him firmly in his place. “Of course you would think that. But in the land of us people who don’t have connections to important people, things can be a lot harder.”

He inclined his head in agreement. “It’s a sad reality that much in this world happens because of who you know.” He gently placed her foot back into the water next to his hip and reached for the other one. When he worked her arch, she moaned softly, her eyes fluttering shut. Growing more curious about her, he asked, “So that’s what would make Olivia Watts happy then—a photography career?”

“Well, a fulfilling career first then maybe a family.” She opened her eyes again and shrugged, the water splashing around her shoulders. “To be honest, I don’t really know anymore. At this point in my life, I suck at both those things.”

He froze. “Explain that.”

“There’s not really much to explain.” She placed her hands on his thighs, resting them there and making him fully aware of how close she was to his groin. “I hate my job and work for this ego-driven prick who won’t hear any of my ideas.”

She didn’t seem the type to stick around and put up with that. “Why don’t you quit?”

“Because Isaac Bridge is the best in the business and his name on my resume will take me places.”

At that, he arched a brow. “Do you even like being a graphic designer?”

“I might if my ideas were heard.” She gave a deep sigh and leaned her head back against the tub, neatly avoiding his gaze. “And you know what happened with Cameron. So, like I was saying, I have a job I hate and a relationship that failed. And it’s not even like I was pushing myself to go for my dreams. I failed at having a completely average life.”

He didn’t like what she’d said or the despondent tone of her voice. “Perhaps those things didn’t work out because the universe is trying to show you that you are meant for something better…something bigger.”

She opened her eyes, the candlelight glowing against her cheek. “That’s a pretty way to look at it.”

“I think perhaps it’s the only way to look at it,” he countered. “Life is all perception after all. I win because I refuse to lose. No matter how many hits I take, I get back up and forge on.” He paused, allowing the idea that she blamed herself over Cameron to fill him. “As for this ex of yours, sometimes an asshole is just an asshole. His cheating is his insecurity. It has nothing to do with you.”

Her eyes got shiny. “But it has everything to do with my heart.”

While he wished he could remove the pain crossing her features, Olivia’s openness was what he found most interesting about her. She hid nothing of what she felt, no matter how vulnerable that made her. She still wanted to find happiness and was openly searching to make that happen. “You’re a beautiful and rare gift to the world,” he told her before he could wonder if he shouldn’t. “Never change how real you are, Olivia. It’s a breath of fresh air to me.”

She held his stare for a long moment, her eyes searching his. He wished he could jump into her head to gauge her thoughts. But then she changed the subject, moving the conversation into what was likely a more comfortable area. “What would make Noah Grant happy?”

“This.” He squeezed her foot. “I like the quiet and the calm. I can’t remember the last time I had a bath.”

“What?” She gasped with fake horror. “Noah Grant doesn’t have a bubble bath every night? I don’t believe it.”

He laughed and winked. “I could do without the bubbles, but the woman in the tub with me is a nice touch.”

Her sweet laughter joined his for a moment before the sound faded away and her expression became serious again. “Do you ever think you’ll have it all? The job? The quiet life?”

“Yes.”

She raised her brows. “You’re that sure about that?”

He gathered her in his arms then, pulling her close, until she was straddling his waist, the water sloshing against the porcelain tub. “Yes, I’m that sure about that. When I want something, I assess that target, then I take what I want.” He paused, trying to soften the thought, hoping to help her relate. “Life is very short. I realized that at a young age, when my grandfather died. Because of that lesson, I work hard for what I want, to see that it happens. For me, failure isn’t an option.”

“Have you ever failed at anything?” The disbelief was strong in her eyes.

“Of course I have.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Name one.”

“Relationships. I’m not very good at those.”

“Yeah, but that’s because of your demanding job. That totally doesn’t count.”