“How’s my car working out for you?”
“Fine.” And that was the problem. She’d felt enveloped by him for the past four days.
He took her hand, surprising her, and ran his thumb over the back of her palm.
She swallowed. “What happens in the penthouse stays in the penthouse.”
He stopped and gazed at her.
She could see herself daydreaming about his changeable green eyes. The whimsical thought passed through her head before she opened her mouth and got back to her script. “You and I are taking what happened on Saturday night to our graves.”
Jordan’s lips twitched. “The car accident?”
“You know what I mean.” She extracted her hand from his because unnecessary touching was a no-no. “The ban includes flowers like those that arrived yesterday.” The bouquet had been delivered after she’d gotten home. A lovely bouquet of lilies and... “Achillea Angel’s Breath.”
Jordan smiled. “I asked the florist for a flower with angel in the name.”
“Of course.”
“You mean a long line of boyfriends has been sending them to you?”
“No, you’re the first.” Rats. Most guys went for the familiar and easy—roses, carnations. She didn’t want to give him bonus points for being imaginative. “The flowers were...lovely, but I’m glad you didn’t send them to me at work.”
Jordan winked. “I’m not going to blow your cover.”
“Right.” And getting back to the point: “Just erase Saturday night from your mind. Treat it as if it never happened.”
Jordan looked amused. “You’re asking to rewind the clock. I don’t think I can un-remember how soft your skin is, the way you feel in my arms, how you respond to my touch.”
She ignored the flutter of awareness at his words. “Really? You can forget eight years ago, but you can’t delete last Saturday?”
“Ouch.”
She folded her arms. “Save it for when you’re doing leg presses.”
Jordan sobered. “I’m sorry I came off as a jerk when we first met years ago.”
Sera blinked because an apology wasn’t what she was expecting. Still, she couldn’t let him think it mattered all that much to her, so she waved a hand dismissively. “Please. The only reason I brought it up was because I was annoyed by your smooth-player ways.”
Jordan twisted his lips wryly. “The truth is that I’ve gotten used to laughing off fans’ attention or giving them a brief brush with fame and then moving on.”
“And those were the moves you were showing Danica at the Puck & Shoot?”
He tilted his head. “As I said, it’s easy to fall back on some safe maneuvers.”
“So eight years ago, I might have been just another fan coming on to you?” she persisted.
Jordan looked pained. “Okay, that may have been my ego talking.”
She dropped her hands. “Exactly.”
Jordan held up his hands. “Hey, I’m trying for some honesty here, even if I can’t make amends.”
Sera lowered her shoulders and sighed. Because, yeah, she’d thought of him as a jerk, but he’d made her look at things from a different perspective. And really, wasn’t it best that she accept his explanation and they drop the whole subject—so they could move on as she wanted to?
“So where do we go from here?” Jordan asked, seemingly reading her thoughts.
She pasted a bright smile on her face. “We get started on your physical therapy for the day.”