Our stare lasts a minute longer before he breaks it and leans forward. He rests his elbows on his knees and clasps in hands in front of him before looking up at me. “You’re very skilled. Your design for the restaurant is exceptional.”

I run my tongue across my lower lip. “Thank you.”

He takes a deep breath and rubs his chin. His thumb brushes across his lips. “But I have a big problem.”

I try not to let my heart drop at those words. Despite my own protests, I do want this contract. I love the concept I created.

“I’m not sure I can resist you,” he admits.

I snap my eyes to his.

“Does my admission surprise you?” he asks, tilting his head. “I thought it was somewhat obvious myself.”

“No… I’m surprise you admitted it,” I answer honestly.

“I see no reason to lie about my attraction to you, Ms. Donnelly. One of us may as well throw out the denial.”

“Are you suggesting I’m in denial?”

“Yes.”

I cross one of my legs over the other and lean forward. “You’ll be disappointed to learn that I’m not in denial where my attraction to you is concerned, Mr. Hughes. I can’t help but feel that we’re veering away from the point of this conversation, though.”

“On the contrary, we’re right on point. Our mutual attraction is the reason we’re here. If you were anyone else I’d have called and hired you after merely glancing at your design.”

“So why haven’t you called and told me you don’t want me to do it?”

“Because that isn’t true. I want to hire you. I want to hire you a whole fucking lot, but I don’t know if I trust myself to keep our relationship strictly professional. I can’t help but want you.”

I suck my lower lip into my mouth and bite down on it. This makes it so complicated. God… I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to him now.

It would be easier if I could promise him I can keep it professional, wouldn’t it?

Problem is… if he can’t… I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure how strong my refusal would be.

“What do you suggest we do?” I ask him, reaching for my water and sipping to wet my throat.

“I was hoping you had an idea.”

“Opening the curtains would be a good start,” I reply dryly.

His lips twitch up and he sits back. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you. Neither will I seduce you with them shut.”

“You’re incredibly confusing. Has anyone ever told you that?”

He laughs. The rich sound is like a warm hug. “All the time. My mother insists I stole that trait from my sister who is much easier than I am.”

“No. I don’t believe you,” I answer flatly.

He smiles. It’s the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen from him. “Izzy drops by often. She was the one who convinced me to have this conversation with you. She’s not much older than you are, and has always had a much clearer outlook than I have.”

I don’t know what I’m more surprised about—the fact he has a sister around my age or that he discussed us with her. “You… you told her what happened between us?”

“Not in so many words. She actually guessed and refused to accept my denials, so there we go.” He holds his hands out and picks up his glass.

My mouth goes dry. Holy shit. This is not how business meetings usually go.

Damn my pussy! This is all her fault!

“I think I’ll go for that wine after all,” I manage to rasp out. “Excuse me.”

“I can get—”

“No,” I argue. “I could do with a moment alone. Thank you, though.” I slide out of the booth with my purse and through the curtains, leaving him staring after me. It feels as though he’s watching long after I step out of his line of sight.

I guess this meeting is both professional and personal.

I take a deep breath and smile as Bianca rubs her hands on a towel and comes to me. “Could I get a glass of wine, please? Blush zinfandel.”

“Sure thing. On Mr. Hughes’ tab?” she queries, glancing back as she pulls a bottle from a fridge.

“Yes,” Carter’s voice travels across the bar.

I turn. He’s standing in the doorway of the booth, watching me. Fuck me, someone doesn’t know what the words ‘I need a moment’ mean, do they? “I’ll pay you, thank you.” I pull twenty dollars from my wallet and put it on the bar. Bianca takes it as smoothly as she sets my glass down. She rings it up on the register and hands me back my change. I smile in thank you and sip from my glass.

The cold, fruity taste is welcomed. So, so welcomed.

“I have a call to make,” Carter tells me, coming right up to me. “I’ll be around five or ten minutes. You’re welcome to wait in the booth.”

I nod and walk past him without a word. Honestly, I have nothing to say right this second. I really do need this time to process what he’s just said to me because I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t expecting his bluntness and his raw honesty.

I wish I’d fucked up the design. I wish I hadn’t been so goddamn determined and that I’d just put whatever down. I wish I’d never given him a reason to contemplate hiring me.

I should have known better.

I should know a lot of things I clearly don’t.

I sink into the cold leather seat of the booth and lean back. After one more mouthful of my wine, I set the glass on the table and close my eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose as if it’ll help me clear my mind.

I can sit here all I like and think about I should have done, but there’s shoulda, woulda, coulda for a reason, isn’t there? The amount of times I’ve said that to Charley is unreal, and now here I am, smack bang in the middle of a big ass motherfucking shoulda, woulda, coulda situation.

Really, it isn’t hard to decide what to do. I have to tell Carter that I’m real sorry, but I don’t think this professional relationship will work. If that means the wrath of my mother, then so be it. Fact is, this time, I know what the right choice is, and this is it.

We can’t work together. That was proved last night when he kissed me.

When he kissed me. Fuck, and he kissed me. The first time ever.

The worst thing about that kiss, the very worst thing?

He kissed me like he meant it.

There are a thousand types of kisses. Casual pecks. Teasing brushes. Lingering touches. Deep kisses. Slow and easy. Frantic and desperate. Pleading. Sad. Happy. Needy.

But the kisses that have meaning behind them? They’re the most horrendous things ever.

Give me a sloppy, drunken, lips, teeth, and tongue kiss over one that has meaning behind it any day.

I open my eyes and focus on my wine glass. I register his presence immediately but avoid making eye contact. Instead, I reach for my glass and take a mouthful.

Silence hovers between us. It feels oddly comfortable, but I can sense the undercurrent of tension just fizzling away. It’s a niggling sensation, like that of an itch just starting. I’m trying so hard to ignore it but it’s almost impossible.

“Are you all right?”

His voice rumbles over my skin, but I fight the shiver it elicits. “I was just thinking,” I respond quietly. I grasp my glass with two hands and rest it on my legs, then look into it. “About what you said.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now. I just wanted to be honest with you. I want to hire you—like I said, your skills are exceptional—but I don’t know if I can,” he says in a low voice.

I give into the allure of his tantalizing gaze and turn my face to meet his. The brutal truth reflecting back at me makes my stomach flip. “I don’t know if I can work with you, Carter,” I say softly. “I’m not in the habit of working with my… acquaintances.”

His lips twitch. “Neither am I. But this decision is yours. I just know that I had a taste of you last night and fuck, I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

I swallow. Hard. “You and I both know how inappropriate that would be.”

“Exactly.” His nostrils flare. “If you agree, then I’m certain I’ll need you to resist me because I’m damn sure I can’t you.”