shook her up so badly she turned into a klutz whenever she got within ten feet of him. She always had, probably always would.
Of course, he didn't know that. He thought she was this clumsy around everyone.
Brian finished rolling up her sleeve. For the second time, Shelly stepped back, this time as far away from him as the confined space of the office kitchenette would allow.-
She had to be so careful around him, because she had trouble hiding her reaction to him. And the worst thing she could imagine would be him realizing how she felt about him.
"Hang on," he said. She could breathe again as he turned to the cabinet drawers, searching through them until he found a dishtowel.
He ran cold water over it, then turned back to her.
"Here." He took her hand in one of his and put the cool cloth over the burn.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yes." It was all she could manage as she stood there in the little kitchen, much too close to the tall, lean, rock-solid man, and wondered what it would take to drive him out of her heart forever.
She hoped marriage would do it—his marriage to someone else, that is. Judging from the unread invitation she'd received in February, she couldn't have long to wait for that to happen. And she looked forward to that day. It was going to be the day she could stop this. Because it was hopeless to go on loving him. She knew that in her mind, fought it endlessly in her traitorous heart.
He found some ice cubes in the small refrigerator. "Here, let's see if this helps."
Shelly took a deep breath to steady herself—a definite mistake. She simply drew in the scent of him—something warm and musky, and thoroughly unsettling despite the familiarity of it.
She looked down at the hands that held her injured arm. She knew them so well, knew their strong yet gentle touch, knew just as certainly that he would never touch her in the same way he touched the woman he loved.
"Better?" he asked again, his dark eyes locking on hers.
"A little," she lied absently, her mind lost in their tangled past.
"I didn't mean to startle you."
She laughed, the sound tinged with desperation. "I'm not sure how your fiancée would feel about you going away for the weekend with another woman so close to your wedding."
It had to be nearly time, she thought. She'd so carefully avoided any information about it. She'd filtered her email so all her friends from Tallahassee got an auto-response saying she was on a big deadline and probably couldn't respond to anyone for now. She'd put a similar message on her voicemail, and screened her phone calls before she picked up any of them. She'd stayed off any social media sites where someone might post wedding news. She'd simply worked and tried not to think about anything else.
Brian had told Shelly a few things about his and Rebecca's wedding plans months ago, but she hadn't heard much lately. She'd gotten better at avoiding him after work or sticking to business topics when they had to be together at the office.
And, like a coward, she'd left the unopened invitation in the wicker basket where she kept her mail, as if she could ignore the whole thing and make it go away.
She forced herself to go on, avoiding his eyes, trying for all she was worth to hide her feelings from him. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?"
It was a ludicrous idea. Brian wasn't afraid of anything. He was a very careful, methodical man. He thought things through to the end, made his decisions and stuck to them.
Pausing, she let herself glance at him for a second, noted that he'd gone unnaturally still and silent beside her. Shelly made herself look at him then. Someone who didn't know him as well as she did probably wouldn't even have noticed, but she did.
There was a bleakness to his expression, a guarded look to his dark brown eyes, a smile that wasn't really a smile on his lips.
Brian squeezed her hand once, then put her own hand over the ice-filled cloth he was holding over her burn. He turned and headed
Of course, he didn't know that. He thought she was this clumsy around everyone.
Brian finished rolling up her sleeve. For the second time, Shelly stepped back, this time as far away from him as the confined space of the office kitchenette would allow.-
She had to be so careful around him, because she had trouble hiding her reaction to him. And the worst thing she could imagine would be him realizing how she felt about him.
"Hang on," he said. She could breathe again as he turned to the cabinet drawers, searching through them until he found a dishtowel.
He ran cold water over it, then turned back to her.
"Here." He took her hand in one of his and put the cool cloth over the burn.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yes." It was all she could manage as she stood there in the little kitchen, much too close to the tall, lean, rock-solid man, and wondered what it would take to drive him out of her heart forever.
She hoped marriage would do it—his marriage to someone else, that is. Judging from the unread invitation she'd received in February, she couldn't have long to wait for that to happen. And she looked forward to that day. It was going to be the day she could stop this. Because it was hopeless to go on loving him. She knew that in her mind, fought it endlessly in her traitorous heart.
He found some ice cubes in the small refrigerator. "Here, let's see if this helps."
Shelly took a deep breath to steady herself—a definite mistake. She simply drew in the scent of him—something warm and musky, and thoroughly unsettling despite the familiarity of it.
She looked down at the hands that held her injured arm. She knew them so well, knew their strong yet gentle touch, knew just as certainly that he would never touch her in the same way he touched the woman he loved.
"Better?" he asked again, his dark eyes locking on hers.
"A little," she lied absently, her mind lost in their tangled past.
"I didn't mean to startle you."
She laughed, the sound tinged with desperation. "I'm not sure how your fiancée would feel about you going away for the weekend with another woman so close to your wedding."
It had to be nearly time, she thought. She'd so carefully avoided any information about it. She'd filtered her email so all her friends from Tallahassee got an auto-response saying she was on a big deadline and probably couldn't respond to anyone for now. She'd put a similar message on her voicemail, and screened her phone calls before she picked up any of them. She'd stayed off any social media sites where someone might post wedding news. She'd simply worked and tried not to think about anything else.
Brian had told Shelly a few things about his and Rebecca's wedding plans months ago, but she hadn't heard much lately. She'd gotten better at avoiding him after work or sticking to business topics when they had to be together at the office.
And, like a coward, she'd left the unopened invitation in the wicker basket where she kept her mail, as if she could ignore the whole thing and make it go away.
She forced herself to go on, avoiding his eyes, trying for all she was worth to hide her feelings from him. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?"
It was a ludicrous idea. Brian wasn't afraid of anything. He was a very careful, methodical man. He thought things through to the end, made his decisions and stuck to them.
Pausing, she let herself glance at him for a second, noted that he'd gone unnaturally still and silent beside her. Shelly made herself look at him then. Someone who didn't know him as well as she did probably wouldn't even have noticed, but she did.
There was a bleakness to his expression, a guarded look to his dark brown eyes, a smile that wasn't really a smile on his lips.
Brian squeezed her hand once, then put her own hand over the ice-filled cloth he was holding over her burn. He turned and headed
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