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I nodded as I sipped my coffee. “I guess the worst that could happen is I sell it and they change the name.”
“You’ve led a pretty sheltered life if you think that’s the worst thing that could happen.” His voice was dark, and he said this staring into his cup. But he was way off target.
“My life hasn’t been sheltered,” I told him.
“Tell me,” he said, inviting a complete change in topic.
There were other people in the restaurant, but Hale was so close to my shoulder that our space by the window felt sheltered and intimate. He’d moved close so we could look at my laptop screen together, but it also served to create a shield between us and the rest of the customers. We could talk quietly without being overheard, and the dark soulful eyes staring at me now almost had me wanting to talk. I’d never really talked to anyone about my past, about how I’d grown up, how lonely I’d always been. Delia knew, and that had seemed like enough. But now I had an urge to talk, and it wasn’t a completely uncomfortable feeling.
“Let’s just say my childhood wasn’t textbook,” I tried, watching his face. His eyes were intent on mine, and he leaned into me slightly. I could smell his soap—or his cologne—clean and woodsy. I had the fleeting feeling of being protected again, sheltered by his sheer size, by his dominating presence. I had never—not since I was at least ten years old—had the desire to be taken care of. Uncomfortable suddenly, I cleared my throat and pushed my chair away from him slightly.
My quick movement broke the tension between us and Hale sat up straighter, his face clearing and retaking the passive mask he seemed to wear most of the time. “Fair enough,” he said. “We have that in common.” He didn’t offer anything else, just an edge of anger in his words that surprised me.
“Should we focus, maybe?”
“I’ve been trying,” he said, his voice suddenly lighter. “You keep distracting me, wanting to know everything there is to know about me. Not that I can blame you. I am delightful. And very interesting.” He pulled the laptop nearer in an exaggerated motion and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ha,” I laughed. “I’m distracting you?”
He shot me an indignant look, wide-eyed with those incredible lips pressed primly together. “Yes,” he said. “And I have important work to do here.” He waved a hand at the screen and then turned his attention pointedly toward it.
“Right,” I said, happy to have the air between us less serious suddenly. “Let’s get to it.” I leaned in and explained the first few slides, giving him an idea of the narrative I imagined myself putting with them as I presented. I let my brain turn as I talked, making notes as I thought of important points to hit as I introduced an old technology with a new twist, tried to build the anticipation for my idea. After a moment, I trailed off. Hale wasn’t looking at the screen, he was watching me, and his dark eyes were fixed intently on mine.
“You really are distracting,” he murmured, his voice deep and low. “Everything about you,” he added.
I wasn’t sure what to say. He was watching me, leaning toward me slightly, his eyes so intense it felt like everything else around us had faded away. I had a sense of his power again, his ability to control things, command them. The thing that surprised me was the desire I felt inside—to let him command me. I didn’t know what to make of it. Men didn’t have this effect on me. I’d never been the girl who wanted a strong, powerful man to take care of her, to protect her and keep her safe. I hadn’t wanted any of that since I’d been a little girl with unrealistic daddy dreams. But now here I was, sitting next to what felt like a force field of masculine power, and I felt myself drawn inexplicably toward it, my desire to lose myself growing by the second.
I forced myself to pull my eyes from his before I climbed into his lap like some kind of mindless infatuated automaton. I’d analyze this reaction later. For now, I needed to focus.
“So here,” I said, pointing to the screen, my voice urging Hale to focus on work. “What do you think the main point should be as I introduce the concept?”
He took a deep breath and turned back to the screen. I got a sense of him realigning his intensity to focus on work. I was at once both relieved and oddly let down to be out from under his scrutiny as he stared at the laptop screen.
For the next few hours, we talked through the slides, coming up with presentation points for each, and ruling out some of the ideas I’d had initially.
“You don’t want to give them too much, too soon,” he said, sitting back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head to stretch. The movement made his biceps bulge in the cotton shirt, and his chest expanded as he inhaled. “Right, Holland?” My eyes were not staying where they belonged, and I snapped them back to Hale’s face too late to pretend I hadn’t been ogling him.
He grinned at me. “Maybe we’ve done enough for today?”
“We haven’t even gotten into the application.” My frustration was clear in my voice.
“Break for lunch, then? There are a million restaurants nearby. We could walk down to Ocean.” He raised an eyebrow.
I looked around, surprised to find the sun high above the street as afternoon overtook Santa Monica. “Sure,” I said, acknowledging that I was actually hungry.
It was strange walking down Ocean Avenue with Hale, the Pacific spooling out to one side of us. Without the excuse of work between us, things felt awkward, and I didn’t know where to look, what to do with my hands, how to be. Was this a date?
“Hey,” Hale said, leaning close.
My eyes caught his, which didn’t help the sudden nerves I’d developed. God, his eyes were dark. And what color was in them now? Flecks of amber, some green? I could spend hours searching those dark eyes…
“It’s just lunch,” he said, sensing my confusion.
“Right,” I agreed. Needing to remove his intent gaze from my face, where it felt like he was somehow uncovering my deepest secrets without my consent, I decided to focus the conversation on him. “Tell me about your time with Cody Tech,” I suggested. Maybe it was the wrong thing to ask. His face shuttered, and he looked hurt for a moment before regaining himself.
“Sure,” he agreed. But something in the guarded tone of his voice told me I wasn’t going to get the whole story.
I waited for him to start talking, but he was silent as we strolled side by side. It occurred to me that we looked like any other couple out for a walk near the ocean. I hadn’t been part of a couple in so long the thought was unsettling. “Start at the beginning,” I suggested, pulling my jacket around me.
