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It was a process that I would normally embrace, but I winced at the thought of the hours it would require with Jillian. I forced a smile. "Sure. I can prepare you a summary of the organizations and the impact—"
He waved off the offer. "It's fine, as long as you're happy with them. What'd you do today?"
An abrupt change of conversation was typical of Brant, yet I felt thrown onto the stand. "Ran errands. Took a nap." Liars elaborate. My tongue was proving the fact true and itching to get creative. I set my jaw.
Brant reached over and gently touched the top of my arm, a habitual gesture, one I loved. A mini-connection in our love life. "Sounds nice."
"Maybe you can take off tomorrow,” I suggested. “Spend the day in bed with me."
He shook his head. "Not a chance. I'm close to breaking the battery capabilities of Onyx down to a fifth of current levels. Which could mean—"
"That you're brilliant," I interrupted with a smile.
He shrugged. "That I'm lucky."
I shot him a wry look, and reached across the table, spearing a piece of his meat and bringing it to his lips. "Promise me after you crack the battery issue that you'll celebrate with me. Give me two days, wherever I want to take you."
"I promise." He took the food offering and chewed, settling back in his chair as the tuxedoed waiter approached.
* * *
Two weeks later, he completed the build of a battery slimmer than the closest competitor by half, one that would run for nine days without charging. I planned a vacation to Colorado. Booked a house. Scheduled the jet. But we didn't go. And I understood.
Chapter 25
I tucked Lee’s business card into the frame of my bathroom mirror. I eyed it while applying mascara and lipstick. I memorized it as I brushed my teeth and flossed.
When I closed my eyes at night, I thought of him. When my hand stole underneath the covers and pressed hard against the ache between my legs, I thought of him. I watched the sunrise over my lawn as I sipped coffee and considered hiring him to cut it. Then I thought of all of the ways this would crash to the ground.
I knew that I shouldn't call him, but I couldn’t stay away.
I lasted a week, then I called him. He didn't answer and there was no voicemail setup. I waited a week, then called again. The third week, nothing. I grew frantic, then panicked. I had wasted our time together with sex—but damn, the sex. And now, I knew nothing about him, and the harder I looked for him, the less I found.
I tried to push him out of my mind and focused my attention on Brant. I moved more of my items into his house. Took a second office near his lab. We bought a house together in Hawaii. Spent a day at Big Sur. I tried, desperately, to forget Lee. Tried to find parts of him in Brant. Failed miserably at both.
I started to call Lee again. Week seven passed. Then eight. Still no voicemail, still no answer. I went back to Toasty's. Twice. I asked too many questions but got no answers. He was a ghost to them as much as he was to me.
And then, four months after our first meeting, I found him.
Chapter 26
FOUR MONTHS LATER
"What are you doing here?" Lee came to a stop beside his Jeep and flipped his keys in his hand as he stared at me. The man was not afraid of eye contact. While Brant's eyes were constantly on the move, following his mind, this man's gaze glued and rooted me in place, his focus unnerving. Maybe because his mind didn’t move, didn’t function enough to wander.
"I saw your Jeep. Thought I'd say hi.” I gave a breezy smile and tucked a runaway strand of hair behind my ear.
"Just driving by?" His eyes flicked over the street. Found my car, then returned to my face. "Doesn't seem like your neighborhood."
It wasn't my neighborhood, but the hardware store was less than a mile from where we met. Two blocks from the bar where he ordered me onto my knees in the bathroom. I shrugged. “I was visiting a friend."Stalking you.
"Still that rich dick's bitch?" His gaze didn't leave my face when he said the crude words. They rolled off his tongue like marbles, smooth and glib, and the heat of his gaze was causing arousal to coil in my belly. Damn, I wanted him. His stance, legs slightly spread, full masculinity on display, the strength of his body showcased in the tight shirt and worn jeans, work boots on his feet.
"Yep." I stepped closer, my heels crunching on the gravel, and his dominant stare journeyed down the length of my body, a smirk forming at my red pencil skirt and white button-up top. "Still want to fuck the rich dick's bitch?"
His smile fell and he reached forward and hooked his large palm around my waist and pulled me flush against him. I stumbled, my heel turning in the gravel, and I grabbed his strong arms for balance. He leaned back against the Jeep; his mouth hard as he kissed me hungrily. My hands tangled in his shirt, prodding, feeling, and he hissed against my tongue when I found and gripped the crotch of his jeans.
"God, you are one fucked up woman." He placed his hand over mine and let me feel his hardening erection, the emerging push of it against his jeans. I squeezed, savoring the feel of him.
