I can’t help it, but I let out a laugh that’s more like a bark. “What? You’re insane if you think that was flirting. I was being polite and so was he. Why would I flirt with him?” I try to keep my voice down. Causing a scene will not be good for me.
“Why wouldn’t you? He was nice and clean-cut, suit and all,” Hardin says.
I realize that he seems more hurt and worried than angry. My instincts tell me to cuss him out and tell him to get the hell out, but I decide to take a different approach. Just like when he was breaking things at his father’s house.
“Is that what you think? That I want someone like him, someone unlike you?” I ask in a gentle voice.
Hardin opens his eyes wide, taken aback. I know he expected me to blow up at him, but this change of pace slows him down and he contemplates what to say next. “I don’t know . . . maybe.” His eyes meet mine.
“Well, you’re wrong, as usual.” I smile. I need to talk to him about this later, but my need to make sure he knows he has nothing to worry about overpowers my need to correct him.
“I am sorry if you think I was flirting with him, but I wasn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you,” I assure him. His eyes soften and I bring my hand up to his cheek. How can one person be so strong yet so weak?
“I . . . Okay,” he says.
I laugh and caress his cheek. I love catching him off guard. “What is he, when I have you?”
His eyes flutter and he finally smiles. I am relieved that I am learning how to disengage the bomb that is Hardin. “I love you,” he says and presses his lips to mine. “I am sorry for blowing up like that.”
“I accept your apology; now let me show you my office!” I say in a cheery voice.
“I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly, too quietly. I choose to ignore it and keep my uplifting attitude.
“So what do you think?” I beam.
He chuckles and listens intently as I show him every detail, every book on the shelf and the empty picture frame on my desk.
“I was thinking I want to put a picture of us here,” I tell him.
We have never taken any pictures together, and the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind until I placed the empty frame there. Hardin doesn’t seem like the type who would smile for a camera, even on a cell phone.
“Oh. I don’t really do pictures,” he says, confirming my thoughts.
But when he sees I’m a little embarrassed by being shut down, he strains to say, “I mean . . . I guess I could take one. Just one, though.”
“Let’s worry about that later.” I smile and he seems relieved.
“Now can we move on to how sexy you look in that dress. It’s been driving me crazy since I got here.” His voice is a full octave deeper and he takes a step toward me. My body heats immediately; his words never cease to unravel me.
“You’re lucky I didn’t open my eyes this morning. If I had . . .” He traces his fingertips along the neckline of my dress. “I wouldn’t have let you leave.”
He brings his other hand to the hem of my dress and caresses my thigh.
“Hardin . . .” I warn. My voice betrays me and comes out as more of a moan.
“What, babe . . . you don’t want me to do this?” He lifts me up and sits me on the edge of my desk.
“It’s . . .” My thoughts are clouded by his lips against my neck. I dig my fingers into his hair and he nips at my skin. “We can’t . . . someone could come in . . . or something.” The words are jumbled and don’t make much sense. He puts his hands on my thighs and opens them farther.
“There is a lock on the door for a reason . . . I really want to take you right here, on this desk. Or maybe against the window.” His mouth travels lower on my chest. The idea of what he is proposing sends electricity through my body. His fingers brush over the lace on my panties and he sucks a breath through his teeth.
“You’re killing me,” he groans as he looks between my legs to see the white lace set I bought yesterday. I can’t believe I am letting this happen, on a desk in my new office on the second day of my internship. The idea thrills me as much as it terrifies me.
“Lock the—” I begin, but we are interrupted by the shrill ring of my phone. I jump straight up and scramble around the desk to grab it. “Hello? Tessa Young speaking!”
“Ms. Young. Tessa,” Kimberly corrects herself. “Mr. Vance is leaving for the day and is on his way to your office,” she says with a hint of amusement in her voice.
I flush and thank her. Clearly she can sense how irresistible Hardin is to me.
Chapter eighty-one
Hardin leaves shortly after he and Mr. Vance finish bickering about a football game. I apologize for having a visitor, but he brushes it off, telling me that Hardin is like family and he is welcome to come by anytime. Visions of Hardin making love to me on the desk take over my imagination and Mr. Vance has to repeat what he said next about payroll three times before I come back to reality.
I go back to reading the manuscript and I am so into it that I don’t realize it’s after five when I look up again. I am an hour late to leave and have a missed call from Hardin. When I get to my car I call him back, but he doesn’t answer. I drive back through moderate traffic, and when I get to my room, I’m surprised to see Steph on her bed. I almost forget she lives here, too, sometimes.
“Long time no see,” I joke and drop my purse and pull off my heels.
“Yeah . . .” she says and sniffles.
“Are you okay? What happened?” I sit on her bed with her.
“I think Tristan and I broke up.” She sobs. It is a strange sight to see Steph crying—she’s usually so strong and sassy.
“Why? What do you mean you think?” I ask and put my hand on her back to comfort her.
“Well, we got in a fight and I broke up with him, but I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I did it—I was just pissed because he was sitting with her and I know how she is.”
“Who?” I ask, even though I somehow already know.
“Molly. You should have seen how she was flirting with him and hanging on his every word.”
“But she knows you two are together; isn’t she your friend?”
“She doesn’t care about that. She’ll do anything to get male attention.” As I watch Steph cry and wipe her eyes, my already strong dislike of Molly grows even more.
“I don’t think Tristan would go for her; I see the way he looks at you. He really cares about you. I think you should call him and talk it out,” I suggest.
“What if he is with her?”
“He’s not,” I assure her. I really don’t see Tristan running off with the pink-haired snake.
“How do you know? Sometimes you think you know people, but you don’t,” she says and looks into my eyes. “H—”
“Hey . . .” Hardin says as he bursts into the room and then takes in the sad scene before him. “Um . . . should I come back?” He shifts uncomfortably. Hardin isn’t the type to comfort a crying girl, friend or not.
“No, I am going to go find Tristan and try to apologize.” She stands. “Thank you, Tessa.” She hugs me and looks at Hardin. They exchange awkward glances before she exits the room.
Hardin turns and gives me a kiss. “You hungry?”
“Yeah, actually I am,” I tell him. I should do some homework, but I’m actually pretty far ahead. I really have no idea how or when Hardin actually works.
“I was thinking that after we get something to eat, you could call Karen or Landon and see what I should wear to the . . . you know. The wedding.” The mention of Landon’s name tugs at my heart. I haven’t talked to him in a few days and I miss him. I want to tell him about my internship and maybe even about Hardin and me. I haven’t decided that yet, but I still want to talk to him.
“Yeah, I’ll call Landon. I’m excited for the wedding!” I tell him, then realize I need to get something to wear to the wedding as well.
“Yeah. Me, too. I am so thrilled. Could I be more excited?” He rolls his eyes and I laugh.
“Well, I’m glad you’re at least going. It means a lot to your father and Karen.”
He shakes his head, but he’s come a long way in the short time that I’ve known him.
“Yeah . . . yeah. Let’s go eat,” he grumbles and grabs my jacket off the chair.
“Let me change first, geez,” I groan. I feel his eyes on me as I undress and grab jeans and a WCU sweatshirt out of my dresser and put them on quickly.
“You look adorable. Sexy office woman by day and cute college girl by night,” he teases. My stomach flutters at his words and I lean up on my toes to kiss his cheek.