Maybe not ever.
A soft knock drew his attention as his head pounded with the realization of what he’d just thought. Dear God. “Come in,” he muttered.
The door opened and a feminine hand waved a brown paper lunch sack. “Hungry?”
For you.
“Get in here,” he said.
Kelly slipped inside and shut the door, leaning against it for a long moment while they eyed each other. She wore a scoop-neck top that showcased her graceful neck and highlighted the alluring dips around her collarbone he loved to nibble. He’d never seen her look quite so daisy fresh.
If he didn’t look too closely at the shadows under her eyes.
“You need to get more sleep.”
She set the lunch sack on his blotter and then eased up on the desk, staying on the opposite side. As her scent wafted over him, his cock nudged his zipper, already expecting attention. One sniff of her was all it took.
“And sacrifice the few hours we have alone?” She shook her head. “Not gonna happen. Besides, who are you to talk?”
Excellent point. He’d never been one to get a full eight, but his recent pace was insane. Three hours sleep was a good night lately.
He sent the email he’d just completed and swiveled his chair toward her. “We’ll both get a chance to rectify that this week.”
Deliberately he kept his gaze steady on hers. He waited to see any of the usual female guilt tricks—downcast eyes, a quivering frown, even a resigned sigh. Once those started, the door began looking mighty appealing. But she only nodded, her gaze clear and direct.
“I’ve missed my bed,” she admitted. “Yours does weird things to my back.” She danced her fingertips over his knuckles, sending heat straight into his groin. “Or maybe it’s you who’s screwed up my back. You do tend to be awfully…enthusiastic.”
He barely heard the last part. She missed her bed? When had a woman ever said that to him before?
“Well, any time you want a change of venue, let me know. You’re the one who refuses to let me inside your apartment.”
She flashed him a relaxed smile. She couldn’t have been further from the edgy, desperate woman he’d had sex with in his home office that morning if she tried. “Testy, testy. I bet you’re hungry. Have you eaten today?”
“No.” He shoved a hand through his hair and caught her staring. “What?”
“Spencer Galvin, that looked suspiciously like a nervous tic to me.”
“Yeah, yeah. So I happened to look at your file this morning.” He shuffled papers on his desk then glanced up to see her watching him. “Your birthday’s next week.”
“You don’t say.”
Under her usual sarcasm he heard an edge. “Not a fan of birthdays?”
“Not particularly.” She gave a jerky shrug. “They were never a big deal in my family. My parents are in Sedona right now, singing love songs and playing guitar, so I’ll probably be on my own. I’m kind of used to them not being around,” she added quickly. “Actually I prefer it.”
Uh huh.“Singing love songs in Sedona? Didn’t we leave the sixties behind a while ago?”
“They’ve never grown out of their hippie stage.” Another shrug. “It suits them.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Imagining you coming from granola-eating beatniks with guitars is a hard sell. Sure you’re not adopted?”
“That’s a question I think they’ve wondered themselves. They spent so much time high it’s possible they don’t even know.” She smiled brightly, too brightly, as if she’d just told the funniest joke in the world. But her eyes revealed her pain.
He leaned forward and laid a hand on her thigh. “I could come back for your birthday. Just for the night. I could rearrange—” Her surprised expression stopped him. What was he saying?
“No, no need for that. Thanks though. I’m sure birthdays bring back bad memories for you.” She tipped her head sideways and flirtatiously batted her lashes. “Since you’ve had so many of them and all.”
He knew she was trying to snow him but it was difficult to think straight when she was looking at him like that. The more she teased him, the harder he got. She’d slicked her mouth with gloss and he couldn’t go another second without feeling her wet lips under his.