WITH ONLY THIRTY MINUTES for her supper break, which wasn’t very long considering the Courtyard—what the developers at classy Northpointe called the food court—was located on the opposite end of the mall from Sweet Nothings and one flight up. Eyeing the long lines, Carly sighed and gave serious consideration to brown bagging it. But she’d miss Jamba Juice and Johnny Rockets, as well as the other thirty-some options from high-fat to healthy, including sweet treats and gourmet coffee and were far too tempting to pass up. 

When she arrived, hungry and slightly out of breath from rushing at a near jog, she migrated to the comfort of an old favorite—Auntie Anne’s.

Her mouth watered when the apron-clad girl passed her golden-brown freshly baked twist of salty goodness across the counter. But Carly’s taste buds had to wait because until she slathered it in mustard, it wasn’t quite finished. With a wad of napkins and her diet Coke in one hand and the downfall of her New Year’s resolution in the other, she turned to find a quiet spot to enjoy it.

The next moment, tragedy struck. She smashed into the wall of muscle standing behind her and bounced off a seriously solid chest. The impact shut her jaw with a snap, although she noticed he didn’t budge an inch, and to her horror, she dropped her pretzel with a wet splat—she really liked mustard.  With her head down, she stared at her ruined dinner in disappointment then noticed the yellow splatters on the man’s black boots and dark jeans.

Crap. It would stain, and she was responsible.

“I’m sorry. My fault entirely. I’ll pay for the cleaning or replacement.”

“We have to stop meeting this way, Carly.”

Her head flew up and she found herself gazing into unforgettable green eyes alight with concern. 

“Trent.”

“Are you all right?”

Heat rose up her throat and into her face, flooding her cheeks, nothing unusual around him these days. “I’m good, but my pretzel isn’t, and neither are your pants and boots.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But I probably ruined them; mustard is hard to get out.”

“I don’t care about the boots and jeans, sweetheart. I’m more concerned about you.”

The endearment didn’t sound casual or throwaway this time. She forgot about food and stains, and pretty much everything else, as her heart leaped into her throat.

“You sure you’re okay? I heard your teeth clack together.” A curl had come loose from her ponytail evidently because he reached up and gently tucked it behind her ear. The fingers brushing her cheek were warm, and the gesture so affectionate, a dizzying current of desire zipped from where he touched her and coursed throughout her body. Sadly, it also robbed her of the ability to speak and she could only nod like a besotted idiot.

His lips twitched, then tipped into a smile, which lingered as he glanced over her shoulder at the girl in the apron and held up two fingers. This time, when she moved toward the tables, a warm, fragrant pretzel in hand, Trent was beside her, splayed fingers resting low on her back, ensuring another accident didn’t happen.

He surprised her when he pulled out a chair and joined her. She took a bite, but could have been eating cardboard, and wouldn’t have noticed, not with Trent sitting across from her.

Despite the awkward start, he put her at ease with no-pressure conversation, engaging her with his quick wit and getting a laugh when he teased her about liking a little pretzel with her mustard. The only tense moment was when she’d tried to pay him for the replacement pretzel.

His firmly uttered “don’t even” accompanied a stare which made her decide against arguing over five bucks and change.

All too soon, the time passed, and she was due back at the boutique. 

After they’d bussed their table and made it to the perimeter of the dining area, she waited to say more until after he dumped the contents of the tray. “Thanks again for the pretzel, Trent. You didn’t have to.”  

“Least I could do after making you fumble the first one, kiddo.”

If she were a balloon and he a pin, she couldn’t have deflated faster. When he joined her, she thought she was making some progress, but nothing had changed. He felt responsible for her dropping her dinner and was merely being nice.

Nice! She was beginning to hate the word.

Carly didn’t hang around after that. What was the point? Breaking out of the friend zone was hard, but after being relegated to the ranks of a kid, recovery was near impossible. Her wounded heart sank straight to her stomach.

“I’ve got to go,” she announced abruptly, already making her way through the jumble of chairs other customers hadn’t bothered to push back under the tables.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” he asked.

She didn’t stop, or turn, hurrying since she could hear him following.

“I lost track of time,” she called over her shoulder, going faster, yet trying to make it appear as though she wasn’t doing what she was doing—running away. “Jana’s alone at the boutique, she’s a nightmare on the register, and I’m late getting back.”

None of it was a lie, but she would have stayed with him all day, if only...

She gave him a vague goodbye wave over her shoulder.

“Carly, wait.”

Chairs scraped the floor, and she didn’t have to see to guess why. Rather than going around them as she had, Trent simply shoved them out of his way.  

Moving as quickly as humanly possible in heels and on tile floors, she escaped through the crowd. For once, luck was in her favor, and she caught the elevator as it was closing.

“Carly!”

She ignored his call, not daring to make eye contact. Instead, she focused on the lights, willing the doors to shut while she struggled to contain her tears. Once the metal doors slid shut, she heaved a hitching, shuddering sigh.  

As soon as she walked into the shop, Jana called for her. Too focused on getting to a quiet place where she could have her emotional breakdown in peace, she didn’t slow, making a beeline for the back room.

“I screwed up, Carly, and had to void another credit card sale. Can you—”

“Later,” she told her in a harsh, raw voice. “Stick it under the drawer and I’ll deal with it later.” She sailed right by the sales counter. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the other girl turn and stare as she passed. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, not as snappish; it wasn’t anyone else’s fault the man she’d fallen for didn’t want her.

“You don’t sound as if it’s nothing, and you look like someone just shot your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” she choked out. If Jana didn’t stop with the questions, she’d lose it right then and there.

“A cat then, or your effing goldfish. Does the species of pet matter? I know something happened while you were gone, so you might as well tell me what it was.”

For someone she’d known for only a few weeks, the new girl was intrusive, and demandingly so. She meant well, but Carly wasn’t ready for a heart-to-heart now, maybe never. Her mood called for one thing, a good cry, but it would have to wait until she got home in a few more hours.

How she’d hold back the flood of disappointment that her dream man thought of her as a kid, and probably always would, she didn’t know.

“I’ll be in the back. I’ve got invoices to pay. Holler if you get in trouble and I’ll come out. Otherwise, I need quiet to concentrate.”

“Uh... Carly.” Something in the other woman’s tone made her stop. “I’m not in trouble, but by the look of things, your trouble is coming to you.”

This odd statement made her stop and turn. Ready to ask what the heck she was talking about, she followed Jana’s worried gaze aimed at the front of the store and saw Trent, his face a mask of fury, headed her way.

“In the back,” he ordered, his voice clipped. When she didn’t immediately move, it lowered to a growl. “Now, Carly.”

His demeanor set her teeth on edge, and his anger, directed at her as if they had a relationship or something, made her bristle. Badass or not, he could take his orders and stick ’em.

“You can’t barge in here, bark orders at me, and expect me to snap to—” Her objections broke off as he came alongside her, caught her hand in his, and without stopping, proceeded to haul her toward the back.

“Trent, I’m working.” He ignored her protest, his firm grip making it so struggling was useless. Short of calling security—the head of which was a wall of anger in front of her—she was helpless to do anything other than follow. 

Once inside, he slammed the door and stood facing her, his arms crossed over his chest, and practically seething.

“Correction. What you’re going to do, young lady, is explain what the fuck that was all about back there.”

She didn’t heed the warning in his tone or body language. She’d have been immune to it anyway. His calling her “young lady” only added fuel to her already simmering fire. Without a scintilla of instinct for self-preservation, she doubled down on her refusal to comply with his demands.

“I don’t have to do a damn thing, as my daddy says, other than die and pay taxes. So you can get one thing straight, right now, Mr. Badass Security Man, this is my place of work, I’m being paid to do a job, and you’re preventing me from doing it.” She flung her hands in the air. “I don’t believe you. You can’t just storm in here, throw your weight around, and start making demands.”

His brows arched briefly, then he moved forward a step. “You’re wrong, since that’s exactly what I’ve done. And I’m not leaving until you explain why, one moment, you were laughing and joking with me and refused to meet my eyes the next. Then you ran out of the Courtyard like someone set your sweet little ass on fire, and you ignored me when I asked you to stop—twice.”

As abruptly as her anger had ignited it diffused. He thought her ass was sweet? If she was a kid in his eyes or a sister, why would he say that, or notice he ass at all? Her head was reeling from the mixed signals he was sending her way.

She didn’t know what to say, and “I didn’t run,” stubbornly slipped out.

“Carly,” he growled, taking another step, and another. When three of his long strides brought him halfway across the large combination office/storage/stock room, she decided it prudent to back up. When he kept coming, she skirted the desk putting it in between them. 

“I thought we were friends. You don’t run from a friend, and you don’t give them a bullshit ‘nothing’ answer when they come to check and see if you’re all right.”

There was a word that made her see red—friends. And, yet another jacked-up mixed message from him. Bah! He could take his friendship, and his own brand of hot and cold, and find someone else to confuse, the maddening, impossible man. 

“Does a friend barge into another friend’s place of work demanding they talk when they don’t want to, Trent? Do they stomp around, slamming doors, and embarrassing said friend in front of their co-worker? I don’t think so. If this is how you treat your friends, Mr. Jacobs, I’ll thank you to scratch me off your fucking list.”

One moment, the desktop separated her from the very large, enraged man, and the next, it was gone when he gripped the edge with one hand and shoved it out of his way. It was cheap, made of thin metal and pressed wood, Monica’s motto of “only the best” not applying to the office furniture none of the customers ever saw, but it was heavy. She’d tried to move it closer to the overhead light when she’d started doing Monica’s books but had given up when she couldn’t get it to budge.

At that moment, she identified with the two ten-year-old boys and the frightened looks on their faces when they’d stared down the same six-and-a-half-foot wall of intimidation.

“Trent, please,” she began, her anger lessening to a simmer as she reconsidered her belligerence. She stiffened when his hand came to her cheek, but his touch was surprisingly gentle.

“I care about you, Carly, and something is obviously wrong. In the blink of an eye, you went from the sweet, shy girl I’ve come to know, for once open and animated with me, to a stranger, closed off and dismissive for some reason. I was worried when you ran out of there, and I can’t deny I got ticked when you acted as though you didn’t hear me calling your name. And I don’t know who you turned into in here, getting pissed and cursing like a sailor. I can’t read your mind, or this hot and cold act, and much as I’d enjoy turning you over my knee and paddle your butt until you admit whatever it is you’re trying to hide, I’m not the man in your life who has that right. And now, evidently, I’m not even your friend. Which, by the way, cuts me to the quick.” He stroked the line of her jaw, lightly. “Life is too short not to accept a hand offered in friendship, sweetheart. You think about that.”

She shut her eyes, unable to bear the disappointment shining in his. Damn, how had this gone so wrong so quickly? A heartbeat later, when she was ready to blurt out the truth, his hand fell away.

When she heard his footsteps, she took a quick peek and saw him at the door. With his hand on the knob, he paused and glanced back. “I’ll be around when you’re ready to talk.”

After he left, she stared at the spot where he’d stood until Jana replaced him, eyes wide with shock.

“Holy crap...” was all she said in a whisper.

It was succinct, but Carly couldn’t have summed it up any better.

Certain her legs wouldn’t hold her any longer, she staggered to the high-backed desk chair and collapsed into it. “How much did you hear?”

“All of it,” Jana replied. “The walls must be made of paper.”

Her head fell back with a plop. “Great.”

“Carly, he said he wanted to spank you.”

“I heard.” What else could she say?

“Is spanking something you’re into?”

“No!”

She sensed Jana’s disappointment before she spoke. “Too bad. It’s hot, and so is he.”

With one eye cracked open, she peered at the other girl. “Not if he thinks he’s my friend, or worse, my father or brother.” She grimaced and shut it again. “Sorry, that’s not my gig.” Then she groaned. “How do I convince him I’m not a kid, but a grown woman.” She covered her face with her hands, and when she spoke again it came out muffled. “Acting nutso the way I did tonight sure as heck isn’t how to go about it.”

“You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?”

Several heartbeats passed before she whispered, “Yeah, I kind of do.”

“Honey, I’ve got to tell you, I think you’re wrong. I saw his face. He was livid, yes, but I think there was more to it. To get that angry because you wouldn’t talk to him.” Jana’s voice trailed or and she paused, making it clear how telling she thought this was. “I’ve had a few boyfriends, and none of ’em got the least bit irate because I wouldn’t share. As for my dad and brother, neither have ever been anything but overjoyed when I clammed up and wouldn’t talk.”  The bell rang, announcing a customer had entered the store. “I think you need to take his advice and think long and hard about what this says about how he feels.”

She turned to go back to work.

“I’m confused, Jana. I’ve tried to figure it out for weeks. First, I’m a kid, and then he leans in as if he’s going to kiss me right here in this very room. He calls me sweetheart one minute and the next, I’m kiddo. He says I run hot and cold, but he’s the one making my head spin.”

“Then do something to clear the air. Maybe he’s as confused as you. And after tonight?” She shook her head and whistled. “Boy-o-boy was he mad. Whatever you do, it’s going to have to be something he can’t misunderstand.”

“Hello?” a woman’s voice called. “Is anyone here?”

“I need to get out there.”

Carly nodded, but when she moved to leave, she stopped her. “Wait, Jana. He was angry and believe me he’s scary when he’s angry. What if I’m way off base?”

“You nurse your broken heart. But what if you’re spot on?  Can you live with not knowing for sure?” 

“What should I do?”

“Ever hear the expression anger and passion are two sides of the same coin.”

“Yes, but how does it help me?”

“Flip him?”

“What?”

“Flip the coin.” She grinned slowly. “Better yet, flip his switch.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Trent was on the angry side of the coin tonight, flip him to passion. And trust me, the way he came storming in here with those gorgeous green eyes only seeing you, I don’t think it will be hard to do.”

“Is anyone back there?” the same woman called. “I hear voices.”

Jana cracked the door and called, “Coming,”

“You’re suggesting I seduce him?”

She shut the door before she answered. “Hell, yeah. He’s hot, but maybe a little slow on the uptake. You need to put yourself out there, Carly. If it’s love on the line, isn’t it worth every effort?” She yanked open the door. “Gotta run. We’ll talk more, later.”

After Jana left, she thought long and hard about what both she and Trent had said.

It seemed they were both guilty of mixed messages. She wanted to clear the air, as Jana had suggested, but to do something as bold as seducing him? She breathed in slow and blew out long. Could she do it?

She raised her hand to her face, remembering his gentle touch. How the other night, he’d brushed back her hair, and he’d moved closer, speaking low with his breath warm on her cheek. He’d been so close she could have gone up on tiptoe and kissed him. And only moments ago, the way he slid his finger down her jaw.

After raking her hair on top of her head, she let it fall and muttered, “None of that says friendship, Trent Jacobs.”

Mind made up, she decided she’d go for it, just as Sherry, Jana, and even sixty-year-old Deirdre had recommended. She wasn’t sure of all the details yet, but she’d come up with a way to get him alone and seduce him. She’d admit her feelings, heck, she’d flash her tits if she had too.  They weren’t overly large, but with her C-cups in his face, she’d make damn sure he didn’t mistake her for a kid anymore. And wouldn’t Deirdre be proud?

Grinning, she went out to check on Jana at the register. She also intended to pick her brain for ideas. The girl might be hopeless when it came to voiding tickets or making change correctly, but she knew people. Carly thought she might have room in her life for more friends, after all.