Showers of sparks erupted over the water, reflecting on the black surface. Trina giggled over the sound of her pulse hammering in her ears. “It’s just fireworks.”

The noise had jarred her from the moment, but as she looked back at Spencer and the way he watched her, it was easy to tumble back in.

“Happy New Year,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek to tuck it behind her ear.

When he leaned in, holding her gaze, her breath stopped and her heart paused. The brush of his lips over hers kick-started everything full-force. This kiss was more of a hint than a sensation. She sighed into the light caress.

Spencer moved his hand to the back of her neck and pressed harder, deepening the kiss. With each nip from his teeth along her lip or tease of his tongue, the moment pulled her further in. She’d never been kissed like this before—as though they had all the time in the world but were desperate not to waste a single minute.

He tightened his grip, tugging at her hair. She moaned at the sharp sting of being claimed with a gesture. Everywhere he trailed his other hand—up her arm, along her bare shoulder, down her spine—flame followed.

The groan he made when he pulled away was fuel on the fire, tightening in her belly and flowing to every sensitive spot on her body.

“Do you want to come inside?” His voice was raw and lined with sand.

Yes. The answer yanked loose a surge of panic she didn’t understand. This was the point of the night—find a good guy and hook up. Why did the hammering in her ears sound like war drums?

Spencer studied her, concern in his eyes and creases in his forehead. “Are you all right?”

“What are we doing?” She couldn’t think of anything better to ask. The roar of the ocean echoed in her skull, making it hard to puzzle through things. This was exactly what she was here for, and now fear and doubt made her question if she was ready. And then she hated herself for making such a big deal out of it.

“Enjoying each other’s company. Seeing where the night takes us.” There was no hesitation in his voice. How was he so certain of everything?

“I’m still not looking for an epic, sweeping romance.”

His mouth warped into a wilted smile. “Is this where you say, I just want to be friends?”

Was that a bad thing? This wouldn’t make him hate her, would it? “No. But yes. But... I don’t know. You make it sound bad when you say it.”

“I don’t mean it that way at all.” There was nothing but kindness in his tone.

“What way?”

“Whichever way makes you feel guilty or obligated. If tonight isn’t working for you...”

And now she was fucking things up again. Like she always did. Turning a kiss and a vague invitation into a drama storm. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He stood and offered her a hand up. The moment she was steady on her feet, he let go. Like a normal person would. “Do you want to go home?”

“I think that would be a good idea.”

Though they walked back to the car side by side, the few inches between them felt like a chasm she’d created. This was why she couldn’t find anyone, even for casual fun. It was like Leo had said—she was abrasive, indecisive, and unreasonable.

****

MORE THAN A DAY LATER, and Trina was still second-guessing her decision to end the night with Spencer the way she did. It was distracting her from work, but fortunately the queue was mostly dead, since it was the morning after a holiday.

The ride home had been quiet in the most awkward way, and she couldn’t look him in the eye when he dropped her off. She’d shrugged off his offer to walk her to her door and scurried inside.

Pathetic.

Her phone rang, startling her, and she hit Answer, her scripted greeting flying to her tongue. “Help desk, this is Trina. May I—” She glanced at the digital display. It was her boss calling. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Cody chuckled. Did that sound strained?

She was imagining it.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

“Sure. I’ll be right there.” She set her phone to Away and walked the short distance to his office. When she saw Janna, the head of Human Resources, in the room, uneasiness crawled over her skin.

Janna stood and gestured to an empty chair. “Come on in.” Her smile was warm, as she stepped around Trina to close the door.

The greeting wasn’t comforting. Trina took a seat. Calm down. It was nothing. There were a lot of reasons to be called into an impromptu closed-door meeting with her boss and Human Resources.

She wished she could think of any.

“Did you have a good holiday?” Janna asked.

Not so much. “It was nice. You?”

“Not bad. Before we get started, I want you to know that, if this conversation makes you uncomfortable at any time, you have the right to call a stop to it, and we can figure out a better way to have the discussion. Without Cody in the room, if you’d prefer. Or with someone besides me. It’s up to you.”

That sounded awesome. Not. “Good to know?”

Cody was being unusually quiet, which was another factor making Trina’s curiosity spin out of control.

“Great.” Janna’s smile never wavered, and it was starting to seem eerie. “We’ve had a complaint from an anonymous source, saying you’re dating people in the office.”

Crap. “I’m not. Not now. I guess I was, sort of? Mason and I went out a few times, but we aren’t anymore, and it was more hanging out.” She clenched her jaw before she could ramble too much and make an unknown situation into a definitely bad one.

“You read and signed our non-fraternization policy when you started working here.” Cody’s tone was difficult to decipher.

Trina hadn’t broken that rule. “It says no fraternization between subordinates and their managers.”

“That’s not our concern—”

When Janna looked at him, Cody stopped. She turned back to Trina. “This isn’t directly about the complaint. It’s about the questions raised because of it. For your safety. You could be considered Mason’s subordinate, since you hold a junior position, and we want to make sure you weren’t forced into anything that you weren’t okay with.”

This discussion was starting to. She’d ask them to stop, but curiosity won out. And why didn’t they lead with that? “He didn’t coerce me. I wanted to go out with him, and when we were done, we were done. He doesn’t hold it over me now. I don’t think there’s anything worth making a big deal over.”

“There have been other complaints as well,” Janna said.

Who had Trina pissed off? “About what?”

Janna’s eerie mask of I’m your best friend no matter what slipped, but it was back in place before Trina registered what the shift meant. “That you make people uncomfortable.” That must be one of her favorite words. Uncomfortable.

“What? How?” Holy shit. Trina couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Isn’t that harassment against me?” Flashbacks to college raced through her head. The things Leo did. The betrayal. The lies. The rumors. Because she would rather keep things quiet, than make a big deal out of them.

Janna sighed sympathetically. “That’s why I’d like to talk to you. To get your side of the story. It concerns us that the information is reaching us this way, and this is your opportunity to let us know if you’re having issues.” Wow, this woman was really bad with the whole delivering-news thing.

“I’m not saying I have anything to talk about, but what would happen if I did?” Trina didn’t want to bring up the things she’d overheard, but if it was out there, she had the chance to tell her side of things.

Janna’s expression softened further. “This is a safe space. Anything you tell me is anonymous.”

Trina wasn’t reassured. “Except that there aren’t a lot of women in this department, and that makes it hard to keep names a secret.”

“We’re working with the source of the complaint, to determine if disciplinary actions need to happen. If you have something to say, we’ll weigh that in our decision. And we can see about moving you to another department, if we determine that’s better.”

“I’m a network technician. You can’t exactly assign me to Sales and have me be useful.”

“If there’s an issue, I’d like to help you resolve it. Do you want to talk about it? Would you rather have someone else in the room, besides Cody?”

Trina had almost forgotten he was there; she was so focused on the soothing-but-not assurances from Janna. “No, this is fine. You promise anything I say doesn’t come back to me?”

“Of course.” Janna sounded confident.

Trina took a mental breath and relayed the conversation she’d overheard in the breakroom. As she spoke, she glanced at her boss. The set of his jaw and the lines in his forehead caught her off guard. Was it a mistake to do this? Or was he upset on her behalf?

She prayed for the latter.

****

SPENCER SCANNED THE Civil Litigation paperwork he was served with. In the background, the office chatter bounced around as if it were a normal day. As if they weren’t being threatened by what he was calling a hostile takeover.

That might be a tad melodramatic, but he liked the way it fueled his irritation. The complaint from Mia was simple. As she’d said on the phone, she wanted half of Ride & Surf.

Her claim was that, based on the infidelity clause in their prenup, he cheated first.

He clenched his fist at the accusation until his knuckles ached, but kept reading. The complaint went on to state that in June of 2012, he’d been romantically involved with another woman.

It then referenced the specific adultery clauses in their original agreement.

“God damned, fucking....” He bit off the words with a growl and called his lawyer.

“This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about, when I asked you if there was anything that might be an issue here,” Christian said.

Spencer didn’t appreciate the assumption or the condescension. “I didn’t do this. Doesn’t she need evidence of some sort?”

“It’s not a criminal case. You’re not innocent until proven guilty. This is an instance of which of you is more right. Yes, she needs to prove it, but you have to work as hard to disprove it.”

“Is me saying I didn’t do it enough?” Spencer knew it wasn’t, but he had to ask.

Christian’s dry chuckle wasn’t comforting.

“File a motion to dismiss,” Spencer said.

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds I was faithful and it never happened.” Spencer was calling Mia’s bluff. If she wanted the case to continue, she’d have to provide proof, and she didn’t have any.

“If this goes into discovery, it will cost you thousands in man hours.”

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose at the money reminder. “Thousands is still less than she’s demanding. And it won’t.”

“I like that you’re so eager to toss money at the firm, but I’ll keep a loose total on man hours, and if you creep toward cheaper to settle, I’m going to let you know.”

“Are we at that point yet?”

“No.”

“File a motion to dismiss.” Spencer didn’t like repeating himself.

“You got it, boss.”

He disconnected. The conversation should have reassured him, or bled off some of his frustration, but anger still pulsed inside. He didn’t let anyone walk over him, and this was no exception.

But what the fuck did she have that made her think she could get away with a claim that he’d been unfaithful?