Page 67 of Enticing Her Love

LATE FRIDAY AFTERNOON, Sutton sat in the conference room with the rest of the Discovery Hour team, trying to focus as they discussed ideas for upcoming assignments. But her lust-addled mind kept going over the last few days like a never-ending rerun. After Wednesday evening’s phone call with Flynn, she was having an even harder time keeping her feelings under control. She’d tried to avoid him at work yesterday, but it was like fighting a magnetic pull. He managed to treat her like he always did in the office, as well he should, but now that the tension was gone, it made it even more difficult. She was starting to wonder if she’d ever really disliked him at all.

It didn’t help that he’d texted her last night when she was lying in bed, asking if she was still awake. Her reply had been met with a phone call and Flynn’s deep voice in her ear. Evening, Steele. She’d gone straight to a tease. Is it appropriate to call a subordinate when she’s lying in bed? His response, It’s more appropriate than being in bed with her, had ignited the ever-present fire simmering between them. They’d managed to keep their conversation out of the danger zone, but it didn’t matter what they said. The undercurrent of desire was as thick as tar, sucking her in deeper with every rough laugh and low-spoken word. It had been after two in the morning when they’d finally ended the call. She’d ached with missing him. When she’d closed her eyes, all she’d seen was Flynn. All she’d wanted was him. There was no getting any sleep until she’d taken the edge off, and not for the first time—or, she was sure, the last—it was Flynn’s gruff, dirty talk that had pulled her through.

“Have a great weekend, everyone,” Karen said, drawing Sutton from her thoughts.

She stole a glance at Flynn across the conference table. He looked striking in a dark blue T-shirt. He caught her looking and flashed a coy smile that made her body hum.

Bastard.

She picked up her notebook, which sadly did not contain nearly enough notes about the meeting, and headed out the door. Flynn sidled up to her in the hallway, making her pulse quicken.

“Steele.”

“Braden.”

“That color pink looks nice on you.”

“Thank you.”

He lowered his voice and said, “It reminds me of the bikini I took off you with my teeth.”

Her body flamed, which she was sure was his intent. Just as she’d hoped to get his attention with the pink blouse and above-the-knee formfitting black skirt. She met his gaze. “That was so long ago, I barely remember it.”

His jaw tightened.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked, hoping his plans included more than just a phone call with her. She was going into the city to have dinner with Leni, but she’d be back in Port Hudson by eleven.

He dragged his gaze down the length of her and back up again, making her tingle from chest to toes, and cocked a brow. “Not what I want to be doing. I’ve got dinner plans this evening. How about you?”

She remembered the last thing he’d said before ending their call last night—I need to find a way to get you off my mind before I lose it. She’d taken it as a joke, but now she wondered if he’d made a date to do just that. She was hit with a pang of jealousy. But she wasn’t about to let it show. “I’ve got plans, too. I hope my dinner date likes my blouse as much as you do.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Have a good evening, Braden.” She spun on her heel and walked away, refusing to allow the emotions surging through her to rise to the surface.

TWO HOURS LATER Sutton was still fuming and hurt as she spilled her guts to Leni while they headed down the busy city sidewalk on their way to a restaurant. The people rushing past, skyscrapers looming, and the cacophony of traffic reminded Sutton of the story Flynn had told her about sleeping on Seth’s balcony. What kind of cruel trick of fate was this? He was in her head, and like it or not, he’d already rooted himself in her heart. She was counting on Leni to help her get him out of her head. Leni had a way of getting to the crux of problems and figuring out a way to move past them. But she knew her heart would be a harder sell.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this before now,” Leni said, looking as sharp as ever in a black pantsuit and crisp scoop-neck white blouse, auburn waves hanging loose over the shoulders of her blazer.

“I was still processing it.”

Leni gave her a give-me-a-break look. “You slept with your boss. What is there to process?”

“Everything.” She lowered her voice as people walked past. “We were supposed to leave all of that in the rainforest, but every time we see each other, it’s like someone poured gasoline on a flame. I swear, Leni, when I see that man, my heart doesn’t just race. It gets too big for my chest, and my body’s like, Yes! Finally!” She sighed heavily. “But now he’s out with someone else, so what the hell do I know?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Good sex will do that to a girl.”

“It’s never been like this.”

“You’re just not used to meaningless trysts. But he shouldn’t be stringing you along. That’s wrong on every level.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think it was meaningless for either of us, and I don’t think he’s stringing me along. We went from not wanting to be anywhere near each other to being together twenty-four-seven, talking about our lives and families and what made us who we are. I’ve never connected with a guy like that, and I liked it. I like him. We can’t even go one night without talking for hours on the phone. That says something, and not just about me.”

“Maybe you’re caught up in a romantic fantasy or something, or your biological clock is ticking too loudly. I don’t know. But you’re a reporter, Sutton. You deal in facts, so open your fucking eyes. You said he’s out with someone else.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you hanging on to the idea of him? You might have thought it was meaningful, but he obviously didn’t. He’s a guy. He’s horny. Accept that. It’s time to move on.”