“So . . . you brought McKenna up for the weekend?” Hallie asks, her voice amused on the other end of the phone.

“I do it all the time with my colleagues.” I straighten the collar of my shirt. “We have a lot of business to cover now that the funding is in place,” I say. “I thought a concentrated work period would be a good thing.”

“And how much work have you gotten done so far?”

“She was on her laptop in about five minutes of setting foot in the house,” I say, which is technically true. I don’t have to mention that I made her put the laptop away.

“Uh-huh,” Hallie says, skeptical but still amused. “Well, the only other thing you need to keep in mind is that development meeting Monday morning. Otherwise, that covers it until I see you in the office.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Hallie. You’re a champ.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

She clicks off. I head out to meet McKenna. She’s already waiting in the foyer, studying the painting on the wall. It’s a good thing I see her before she notices me, because in that first moment I almost stumble.

She’s got on a stunning black number that teases the shape of her hips and her breasts, and she’s put on a touch of makeup. Enough to bring out those striking eyes even more, and to fill out that sharp mouth.

God. You’d think I was a horny teenager, the way my body reacts. To hell with petite blondes, she’s everything a man could want. And so much more.

She turns then, and her face lights up with a smile. I’ll be damned if my heart doesn’t skip a beat. There should be laws against women looking that good while standing in my foyer. At least, women who aren’t intending to move from that foyer into my bed.

“Ready to go?” I recover.

“Sure. I’m famished.”

My favorite dining spot in Montauk really is just a short hike down the coastline. During the summer, it’s a pleasant half-hour walk. With the winter nip in the air, we drive. There are only a couple other cars in the parking lot when we arrive. “Off season, it turns into a ghost town around here,” I explain, opening the car door for McKenna. “But come summer, you can’t move for traffic.”

Inside, the owner, Jeffrey, greets me with enthusiasm and shows us to a table by the windows, overlooking the shore. The sun has long since set, but the lights reflecting off the water are a pretty decent view.

I nod to the other diners—distant neighbors I run into most times I’m out here. Jeffrey summons one of the newer waitresses, Cecile. She sets two menus in front of us. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Callahan. The usual wine list?”

“Sure. How’s college treating you this semester?” I ask her as McKenna looks over the menu.

“Oh, pretty good, I think. I passed all my midterms, anyway.”

“That’s a good start. I hope Jeffrey isn’t working you too hard.”

“No, not at all,” she says, with a more relaxed smile.

“Do you remember something about everyone you meet?” McKenna asks after I’ve picked out our bottle.

“I try to,” I reply. “I see too many guys act like everyone is there just to serve them. But even my waitress, or my driver, they all have their own lives to worry about, too.”

“Still, you meet so many people. How do you remember everyone?”

I like that she seems impressed. It’s not easy to get that reaction from her. “It takes some work, but it can be quite a useful skill when you’re networking.”

McKenna turns her attention to the restaurant, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Nothing here is showy or expensive. Just simple, stripped-down dining. But that’s why I like it. Maybe I enjoy indulging in life’s finer experiences, but there’s something fine about simplicity too.

As if she’s guessed what I’m thinking about, she says, “You haven’t told me anything about your family, you know.”

I take a sip of wine, uncomfortable. “There’s not much to tell. My dad worked in a factory. My mum did shifts in the local supermarket. They were always good to me, but . . . they didn’t understand me. They weren’t educated; they didn’t read or watch the news. Not that it was wrong, it was just . . . I wanted more. Even as a kid, I knew there was a whole world out there. Places I wanted to see.”

“That must have been hard,” McKenna says softly.

I nod. There’s something about her that makes me want to open up. “There was always a distance between us, but once I went to boarding school, it only got bigger. When I was twenty-two, I landed my first big deal, selling a company I’d acquired for next to nothing.” I smile at the memory. “I went home to visit, and I wrote them a check, more money than my dad had made in ten years. I thought they’d be happy, but . . . I don’t know.” I give a shrug. “At least I can give them everything they want now: house, cars, vacations . . .”

“That’s good.” McKenna smiles at me. “It’s nice you’re looking out for them.” She pauses.

“Doesn’t it ever get to you? Coming from a background where you couldn’t take things for granted, and then being surrounded by people who have no clue how lucky they are?”

I start to give a flippant response and catch myself. McKenna deserves a more thoughtful answer. A more honest one. “It used to. Way back. But people can read resentment awfully fast. I had to learn to let those kind of feelings roll off me. I choose the people I spend the most time with carefully. And I keep an eye on myself to make sure I don’t slide too far into that way of thinking.”

“Your charity projects.” McKenna nods.

“And making sure I stay hands-on with the projects I’ve invested in. Spending time with the people doing the real work.”

She pauses. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to let it completely roll off me. I mean, I think I’ve gotten pretty good at it. But I still get pretty pissed off sometimes at the way I’m treated. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m lucky,” she adds quickly. “I got to go to a good college, and my brother made sure I never had to worry about our parents. But still, it’s hard being an outsider in this kind of industry.”

I remember the guy I found harassing her at the gala. The way I saw some of the other men ogling her as if she were there for display purposes only. But she just keeps sailing through.

“I know it’s different for you,” I agree. “I established myself, and now everyone accepts me as ‘one of the boys.’ But I suppose you’re always going to have to contend with people seeing you as a woman first and everything else second.”

“Yeah.” She toys with her glass. “But that’s the way it goes, right? I haven’t let it stop me yet.”

She smiles at me again, determined, and I see again her strength and passion. She won’t let anything stop her from achieving her dreams.

For the first time in a long time, I feel in almost over my head.

“Cheers!” I say. “To two underdogs making it good.”

We clink glasses. McKenna lifts hers to her lips, her head tipping back just enough to show off the curve of her neck. Before I can catch it, my gaze darts down it to the hint of cleavage at the top of her dress.

I drag my gaze away before she notices. What the hell am I doing? She was just talking about how hard it is to be taken seriously, and here I am, panting over her body.

But I know, deep down, it’s not just her body. It’s all of her; everything. That brilliant mind, and her sharp sense of humor, and that brilliant spirit, too. That’s what’s making my head spin, even though I’ve had a single sip of wine.

Our dinner arrives. For the first few minutes, we’re too busy eating to talk.

“I can see why you like this place,” she says when she comes up for air. “I’d drive all the way out to Montauk just for this pasta.”

I grin. “I can always arrange more weekend work excursions.”

She smiles back over the top of the glass. “I may have to take you up on that. I mean, if you want me along.” The assurance in her expression falters. She glances down at her plate and takes a breath.

“I just need to make sure,” she says, meeting my eyes again. “You are funding Perfect Match because you believe in the project, aren’t you? Not because I practically harassed you into it, or because you were tired of dealing with the matches, or . . .” She bites her lip, and I suspect I know what that or stands for. “I wouldn’t want you to invest in it unless you really do want to see it through.”

God, is that what she’s been worried about? I shake my head with a rough chuckle.

“McKenna, your app has amazing potential, I believe that. But more importantly, I believe in you. I’ve seen an awful lot of you, between your ‘harassing,’ and, well, other activities.”

Her face flushes a very pretty shade of pink. I can’t help smiling. “I can’t imagine anyone more likely to take the tech world by storm than someone with your commitment and determination and smarts. Don’t you dare think, even for a second, that you don’t deserve this.”

“Okay.” Her voice is quiet, but her face is glowing now. “That’s all I needed to know. You can hand over as much money as you feel like now,” she adds with an impish grin.

I outright laugh at that. “Let’s see how you handle that first million before we get carried away.”

There are all sorts of other ways I’d like to get carried away with her. Especially when she’s got that gleam in her eyes.

---

We spend the rest of dinner chatting easily. Once she relaxes, McKenna lights up. I haven’t had so much fun in forever—or wanted a woman like this, either. I manage to keep the car on the road on the way back to the house, but it’s a near thing. Every move McKenna makes, every rustle of that dress, goes straight to my head—and lower.

In the kitchen, I stash our leftovers in the fridge. Then I open one of my better bottles of wine—which means it’s really very good—and pour us each another glass. McKenna meanders through the living room and stops by the basement door. “Anything interesting in here?”

“I’ve got my game room downstairs,” I say. “Billiards, card table, but mostly my favorite old arcade games. It’s a good way to recalibrate the mind between work sessions.”

She raises an eyebrow at me.

“It’s also just plain fun,” I admit.

“Well, I’ve got to see this. I can’t believe you forgot to tell me you had a stash of retro video games.”

I flick on the lights as we step into the basement room. McKenna’s eyes glitter twice as bright. “Oh my God!” she says, walking from console to console. “Donkey Kong. Space Invaders. Ms. Pac Man! Wow. I feel like I’ve stepped back in time twenty years.”

“A regular visitor at the local arcade, were you?” I tease.

“You could say that. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I own an original Nintendo system. It still works! My only regret is that I haven’t been able to track down one of my favorite games from when I was a kid. This super special version of Star Fox—you hardly ever see it for sale, and when you do it costs and arm and a leg.”

“I see. I didn’t realize I was dealing with an expert.”

“Oh, yeah.” She flips her hair back over her shoulders and shoots me a grin. “And last time I checked, I hadn’t lost my edge, either.”

“Hmm. That sounds like a challenge.”

She shrugs. “If you want to take it as one, you can. Try me. I’ll even let you pick which game.”

I point to the machine in the back corner. “How’s Tetris for you?”

She claps her hands. “You are going to regret that choice, my friend.”

I really don’t care, as long as she keeps smiling like that.

“Let’s get down to it, then.”

In less than a minute, I can see I would have been regretting my choice, if I’d wanted to win. McKenna flicks and spins the controls on her side of the console, whirling the shapes into perfect configurations. The stack on her side of the screen keeps shrinking. I’m not half bad, but nothing compared to her. We stand close together in front of the game, her elbow brushing against mine. The warmth of her body runs all down my side. I might have been playing better if the smell of her wasn’t filling my nose. Lilac? Lily? I don’t know what it is, but it makes me want to bury my face in her hair.

And then other parts of her.

McKenna gulps some wine and lets out a whoop as she clears another five rows in one go. I groan as my stack inches even closer to the top. “I should have known better, shouldn’t I? Matching pieces together perfectly—that’s exactly your wheelhouse.”

“You’d better believe it.” She leans forward, her gaze intent on the screen. “And now I destroy you . . .”

She sends several more blocks tumbling down in quick succession. In a blink, my side of the screen hits the limit. GAME OVER flashes at me. McKenna pumps her fist, laughing. “The champion still reigns!”

I don’t know if it’s her laugh or her closeness or her smell—maybe it’s all three. But my self-control disintegrates. Before I can even think about it, I’m tracing my fingers up her jaw and pulling her lips to mine.

I half-expect her to pull away. I have an apology already on my tongue. But McKenna kisses me back, and suddenly I’ve got much better uses for my tongue. I tease over hers, and a little moan escapes her. She grasps my shoulder, bringing her body flush against me.

Fuck. She feels so good.

My hands glide down her sides, caressing her breasts, her hips. Her fingers tangle in my hair. Their graze sends sparks over my scalp. I tip her against the console, kissing her again, leaning in for a better angle. She wrenches my shirt from my slacks to explore the skin underneath. Her touch sets my skin on fire.

It felt just like this the other night. Just as hot, just as headlong.

Just as off limits.

That thought penetrates the haze of lust in my head.

I manage to draw back an inch. McKenna blinks up at me. Her expression is dazed but that’s not enough.

“Are you sure?” I say. My voice comes out ragged. I can’t believe I’m putting the brakes on, but I have to be sure. I’ve been getting so many mixed signals, I don’t know what’s true, and for all the incredible chemistry between us, I don’t want her regretting one moment of this.

McKenna looks up at me, and I can see her mind working overtime. Then, suddenly, the indecision clears. She smiles, confident and so damn sexy.

“I want you,” she tells me, and fuck it, that’s all the permission I need.