I typed away at my computer, readying myself for the afternoon meeting. I wanted to make sure all my numbers, charts, and projections were in place beforehand. I also wanted to print them off and slide them all into folders the investors could easily take a look at during the meeting. If I was going to be taking notes on it, then I needed to unload the responsibility of divulging information as much as I could. But my mind kept going back to the moment I had shared with Ryan the other day.

The almost-kiss in my office.

A part of me wondered if Mr. Walter had seen it. Or sensed it. By the way he had been grinning at Ryan, something inside told me he knew. Or at least he suspected. And I didn’t like that. I didn’t want to earn a reputation at work for being the young girl screwing around with the boss—who happened to be my ex-boyfriend’s father of all people. What in the world was going on with me? What was I thinking?

What was going on with Ryan and me?

I didn’t know, but I couldn't deny how wonderful it felt, how great and warm and peaceful it felt to have Ryan in close proximity to me. His touch had been electric, just like his bare hand on my thigh had been. I had almost tasted his lips on mine as his eyes had danced around my face. I had seen the way his eyes had traveled down the nape of my neck. I knew what he had been thinking.

And in that moment, everything inside me had wanted to lean into his lips.

“Kylie?”

“Yes?” I asked.

“I need to ask you something about the meeting this afternoon.”

“Come on in. I’m just finishing up some calculations for things before I finalize the numbers and print them off.”

I continued writing and scribbling things down before tweaking the pie graphs and charts. I lost myself in the last little alterations and didn’t notice how close Ryan was standing to me until I felt him dip down to look at what I was doing. His head hovered over my shoulder and his breath pulsed against my neck. One hand gripped the top of my chair while his other hand leaned against my solid desk, shrouding me in him. I counted every breath and felt every degree that rose underneath my skin. I felt every shiver and single-handedly paid attention to every single hair that stood on end.

“Kylie?”

Ryan’s voice ripped me back to the present.

“I’m sorry. What was that?” I asked.

“I asked you why you were printing this stuff off.”

“Oh. Um, well, since I’m taking notes on the meeting as well, I figured it would unload a bit of information off my brain to give this data to the investors upfront in folders. It would diminish my need to stand up and run them through all of it, which means I could spend more time jotting things down and answering questions as they pop up.”

“That’s actually very smart. Good job,” he said.

A surge of pride filled my chest as I turned to look at him. Three more inches, maybe, and my lips could touch his cheek. I studied his skin, the strength of his jawline, the small little crow’s-feet at the edge of his eye. A vein protruded from his neck, pulsing with the rhythmic beating of his heart. Something inside me wanted to brush my lips against it.

“Kylie?” Ryan asked.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Did you hear me?”

“Sorry. No.”

“Are you all right?”

“I had a late night last night,” I said.

It wasn’t technically a lie. I had stayed up tossing and turning. What I refused to admit was the fact that he had been on my mind and in every single dream every time I had tried to close my eyes and sleep.

Ryan frowned before he stood up, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. I hadn’t lied. Was my answer somehow not suitable enough for him?

“Will you be able to concentrate in the meeting?” he asked.

Of course. His concern was in a professional capacity.

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Kylie.”

“Sorry. Ryan. Yes, Ryan, I’ll be fine for the meeting. Though I might get some coffee on my lunch break. Possibly two, and one to go.”

A grin inched across his cheeks as he walked around to the front of my desk.

“I know a great place that has a nice light lunch and the best coffee Portland has to offer. I planned on going there myself to fuel up before the three-hour tango. Care to join me?”

I smiled at him as fireworks burst in my stomach.

“Sure. I’d love to,” I said.

“I’ll come by and get you around noon,” he said.

“Sounds good.”

An hour and a half later, Ryan was helped me into the back of his town car and we cruised through town. We traveled almost thirty minutes to get to the place. It was clear on the other side of town. The car ride over was pretty basic. He asked me about work and I asked him a little bit about the meeting and what to expect. I’d sat in on only one other meeting for him, and it hadn’t been with the entire board. It had been just a few people who’d had some concerns over some numbers I ran for them. I had a feeling it had been more of a test, a way to analyze the skills of the new young woman stationed in their corporate headquarters. But I’d proven myself worthy of the task and left even a couple of them stunned in their seats.

I was ready for the meeting that afternoon. I was ready for a second round to impress the old men who sat back in their chairs and thought they knew what they were doing.

“I didn’t realize we were going across town,” I said. “It’s pretty secluded out here.”

“Just a few miles outside Portland’s city limits. I come out this way when I want some peace and quiet, maybe a bit of a scenic view.”

The car pulled to a stop and he offered me his hand. I took it willingly, stepping out of his car. And I saw what he meant by scenic. The skyline of Portland was behind us and all around us were lush forests and green grass. The small restaurant had tinted windows that let in plenty of natural light while concealing the patrons of the restaurant inside. The two of us walked in and sat down, and a waitress came up quickly to take our orders. It was another quaint little place I would’ve never associated with Ryan Tucker.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But this is the second place you’ve taken me to that I would’ve never associated with you.”

“And why wouldn’t you associate this with me?”

“It’s so…quaint. Cute. Small. I figured a man like yourself enjoyed five-star restaurants, sprawling wine lists, and darkened corners with floor-length tablecloths.”

“There’s a time and a place,” he said. “Those kinds of restaurants have their place, just as these do. But the secret to Portland is that the best foods don’t sit in those types of restaurants. They sit in places like this, low-lying, hole-in-the-wall establishments and small places on the outskirts of town.”

“It just seems so small for you,” I said.

“Sometimes the greatest things come in packages we don’t expect.”

My eyes connected with his and heat pooled between my legs. I shifted around and cleared my throat, attempting to alleviate the tension. Instead, all it did was grow.

“Doug was right, by the way,” he said as the waitress delivered our drinks.

“About what?” I asked.

“Black really does suit you.”

“And like I said, black suits everyone.”

“Not always.”

“You’ve met someone who doesn’t look good in black?”

“I have. Doug looks terrible in black. He looks like he’s got one foot in the grave and another already descending into hell.”

I giggled and shook my head as I picked up my cup of coffee.

“The old man’s got gray rings under his eyes that shine with the sun whenever he wears black. It’s terrible,” Ryan said with a chuckle.

“Old man? Aren’t the two of you the same age?” I asked with a grin.

“I’m not fifty yet.”

“You’re not?” I asked.

He gripped his heart and feigned an attack as a giggle fell from my lips.

“I’m forty-nine for your information.”

“Oh, so you’re practically there. I gotcha.”

“I’m not there until the end of this year. Then it’s all over for me. I’ll have to get a walker, invest in a wheelchair, put up wood paneling in the basement of my home.”

“Don’t do that,” I said as I shook my head. “Anything but that.”

The two of us laughed over our coffee drinks as our food was set in front of us.

“Wow, that was quick,” I said.

“Trust me, it’s not an indication of the quality of the food. Try it. You got one of their best dishes.”

I took a bite of my fish and moaned as it hit my tongue. It was so flaky and flavorful and juicy to boot. I hummed in appreciation with every bite of that meal I took, and every single time I was painfully aware of how Ryan looked at me. We shared a few more laughs and stories with each other. Joking around with him relaxed me in ways few things did, like a good body massage, or a strong glass of wine on an empty stomach. I felt drunk off his laughter, high off his smile.

I wondered if this was some sort of a date. Did I want it to be a date?

Part of me didn’t want to answer that question.

“Care for another cup of coffee?” the waitress asked.

“Oh yes, please. I’m going to need it,” I said.

“Me as well. Thank you,” Ryan said. “And tell the chef the food was absolutely delicious.”

“Yes, please tell her that,” I said.

“How did you know our chef was a woman?” the waitress asked.

“Very few men cook with that kind of love, even professionally. Tell her it can be tasted and it’s much appreciated,” I said.

“I will certainly pass on the compliment. And if the two of you want dessert, our chef makes a mean tiramisu.”

“That sounds fabulous. Kylie?”

“Why not?” I said. “Two tiramisus.”

“And two coffees to go,” Ryan said.

“I’ll be right back with your refills after I put in your orders,” the waitress said.

I turned my gaze back to Ryan’s face and saw him looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“What?” I asked.

“Cooking with love?” he asked. “I didn’t know you were such a foodie.”

“It doesn’t take a foodie to know when someone takes pride in their work.”

“But you were able to discern that the chef was a woman. I’m interested to know how you did that.”

“I’ve got a nice shot of the kitchen when the door swings open. A woman in a chef’s hat came walking by it earlier when the waitress picked up our dirty dishes.”

“You sneaky little woman,” he said.

“Figured the compliment would go a long way in her world. Sometimes the extra effort is all it takes to let someone know they’re appreciated.”

A jolt of sadness filled my gut before it dissipated as quickly as it had come. I wished Adam had appreciated me like that, gone out of his way to do things like that. He used to in the beginning. I knew couples got comfortable eventually, fell into a routine and lived their lives like that day by day, but that didn’t mean the effort to date and romance diminished as well.

At least I didn’t think it was supposed to.

“Something on your mind, Kylie?”

Ryan’s voice pulled me back, and I drew in a deep breath.

“Just thinking.”

“Anything you care to talk about?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Are you sure?”

I looked into his eyes and realized he knew what I was thinking about. I couldn’t fathom how he knew, but he did. And I didn’t want to talk about it. Not with him. Not when it felt as if my entire world had been upended and tossed onto its head. I shook my head as the tiramisu was set in front of us, and I listened as Ryan asked the waitress for the dessert to go as well. I felt that I had spoiled our lunch date, or our lunch outing. Whatever the hell it was. I grabbed my dessert and my coffee, feeling Ryan linger behind me steadily as we walked out the door.

The second I stepped out, I ran into someone.

“Sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t watching where I was—”

I looked up at the person I had run into and felt my stomach roll with uncertainty. What in the world was Adam doing all the way across town? I glanced into the restaurant and furrowed my brow, not even attempting to hide my confusion. There was no way in hell Adam would be caught dead in places like the one Ryan and I just had lunch in. He enjoyed diners, fast-food joints, the occasional sit-down taco hut. Not quaint cafés with small portions and rich coffees.

I waited for him to say something, but all he did was study the contents of my hands—the small to-go box that matched his father’s and the large coffee I clung to. Adam’s eyes flashed behind me toward his dad, and I wanted to sink into the concrete of the patio out front. I tried to steady my breathing as I moved out of Adam’s way, watching as he shoved his father’s shoulder before he slid into the café.

I gawked at him as he sat down at a table in the corner and folded his arms over his chest.

“Come on. Let’s get to our meeting,” Ryan said.

I allowed him to guide me away, my mind spinning with a thousand different things. I couldn't concentrate during the meeting, which made taking notes about it rough. I zoned out in many aspects and hoped they weren’t important parts of the gathering of investors. Ryan ran down upcoming projects and Doug interjected with new and fresh ideas. All the men complimented me on my folder of information and how thorough it was. It was so thorough, in fact, that none of them had any questions about what they were looking at, which was good. I was in no shape to answer any of their questions.

And I could tell Ryan noticed.