“What about me?”

  “It’s kind of weird to me that we pretty much know every inch of each other’s bodies and yet I don’t know much about you other than that.”

  “Sure you do.”

  “What you like to eat isn’t one of them.”

  His grin is lightning quick and dirty as hell. “Am I supposed to be ignoring that door you just opened about what I like to eat?”

  I squirm in my seat, my body reacting viscerally to the memory of the skill of his tongue that last time we were in bed.

  “Yes. You are supposed to ignore it.” But my grin matches his and the look we share says I wouldn’t mind if he did it again. “I mean things about you. Growing up. College. Broken hearts. The kind of things that build character and make you.”

  He glances my way for a beat before giving a quick shrug. “Grew up with little. My mom, brother, and me. Then it was just my mom and me. Tried college. It wasn’t for me. I’m not good with structure or being told what box I need to stay in. Taught myself coding. Then software. Got lucky being at the right place, the right time, with the right product.”

  “Pretty sure it was more than that,” I say and get a shrug in response. “Where in California did you grow up?”

  He looks over his shoulder to change lanes, causing a pause in his response. “Northern.”

  “Silicon Valley?” I ask because that’s what I read.

  He nods.

  “Are you close with your mom?”

  “Very. There was a long time where it was just the two of us. Now she has Graham—her husband of five years. He’s good to her. Makes her laugh. I would say he takes care of her, but she’d be mad if I did. She firmly believes she doesn’t need a man and can do everything herself.”

  “I like her already,” I say.

  “You probably would. What about you and your parents?”

  I twist my lips as I watch the world pass by. “It’s complicated.”

  “As I figured.”

  “I love my parents to death, not just because they’re my parents but for who they are. I can respect them for that. At the same time there’s resentment there. For the longest time, I thought they wished I was the one who died that day instead of Cassie.”

  “Rowan.” He sighs out my name.

  My smile is sullen. “I was young, but that’s where my thoughts went.”

  “But why?”

  “Because she was everything they—and the society they try to impress—wanted her to be. Content with the part she was supposed to play while I bucked against it. Still do. She was happy being known as Rhett Rothschild’s sister—”

  “The golden child.”

  “Mmm-hmm. And I didn’t want to be the person propping him up on the pedestal. I thought he should have to earn it rather than have it handed to him solely because he was the boy of the family.”

  “From what I’ve seen of Westmore, they’re the norm. You’re the—”

  “Outsider? Unconventional? The rebel?” I laugh and wave a hand. “I’ve heard it all before and am one hundred percent fine with all of the labels. Good, bad, and patronizing. Hell, if it weren’t for my gran putting her foot down, I wouldn’t even have been allowed to work at the company.”

  “Good thing for Gran.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I say as he makes another turn. For wanting to “go for a drive” we sure are driving. “Are we going anywhere in particular?”

  “No, but I’ll know when I find it,” he says when he takes another turn down the main drag of a quaint beach town.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice you ignoring the heartbreak question,” I tease as we stop at a stoplight.

  Holden stares at me with an intensity I wish I could understand. “No heartbreak.”

  “By choice or because you’re the one breaking them?”

  The muscles in his jaw tick. “If you’re asking if I’ve had lovers, clearly by my skill level—”

  “Oh, please.”

  “The answer is yes,” he says and I suddenly wonder why I even asked the question seeing as how hearing those words makes me sick to my stomach. “But that’s all they were, Rowan. I’m a busy man. I have things I want to accomplish and I’m too selfish to compromise those things.” Something glances through his eyes that I can’t read but want to and before I can, he looks away.

  “I understand that.” More than he may ever know. The difference is society makes it okay for a man to say that, but not a woman.

  “And relationships mean feelings, and I don’t have time to manage someone else’s feelings when I hurt them. Because I’m bound to do just that—hurt the person,” he says unapologetically with a brutal honesty I’ve come to expect from him. “That and…”

  “And what?” I ask as the light turns and he begins to drive.

  “Nothing.” He says the word but there is something in his expression that says there is more. “Never mind.”

  “That and because people you love leave,” I all but whisper, revealing my own fear out loud. Then I wince, embarrassed I let that slip, but when Holden glances my way, when he reaches out and squeezes the top of my thigh, when he gives the slightest of nods, I know my words resonate with him too.

  We fall silent as we drive down the main street. Past souvenir shops, tourist traps, and little cafes. Past families struggling to wrangle their children, their skin pink from the sun but their smiles wide.

  I get lost in thought. Replaying Holden’s words over in my head—I don’t have time to manage someone else’s feelings when I hurt them. Because I’m bound to do just that—hurt the person—and wondering why they affect me when I’ve lived my life much the same way.

  It’s because you’re on the flip side of it this time.

  It’s because you’re catching feelings when you don’t catch feelings.

  It’s because you know how this is going to turn out—he just told you without telling you.

  FORTY-THREE

  Rowan

  “If your phone buzzes one more time, I think it’s going to implode,” I say as it vibrates again on the table.

  Holden gives a quick shake of his head as he picks up his phone and makes a show of turning it off. “That should take care of it,” he laughs as he tosses it back down.

  That’s something I’ve noticed about Holden. As busy as he is, when we’re together, he ignores his phone. He rarely picks it up to look at a text. He never takes a phone call. It’s not something I’m used to, but it makes me feel like he knows my time matters.

  Silly, really. But isn’t this whole thing silly if you look at it?

  I’m screwing my soon-to-be boss.

  But when I look at him over the rim of my wineglass with the ocean at his back and his eyes on me, it doesn’t feel very silly. Far, far from it.

  The restaurant he brought us to is small in size but huge in ambience. Private tables on a balcony overlooking the beach. Expensive wine and delicious food. Great service and a beautiful sunset.

  “This was unexpected. You being at the Sanctuary. The drive. The drinks and appetizers.”

  He shrugs. His smile soft. His fingers reaching out to play with a lock of my hair. “We’ve both been working hard. I overheard you on the phone say you were heading there and … thought it might be a much-deserved break.”

  “Well, thank you. I really think you’ll be happy with the suppliers I’m nailing down. Brownstone has been a difficult one to figure out.…” I drift off as Holden shakes his head.

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No more talking about work. I just want to sit here and enjoy the rest of our wine with a beautiful view and a gorgeous woman.”

  “Oh.”

  He leans forward. “Yes. Oh,” he mimics me moments before he presses his lips to mine.

  “We can’t.” I press against his chest. “Someone might see—”

  “There’s a reason I drove so far away, Sunshine. Why I scoped out this restaurant. No one knows us here.” His eyes meet mine as he runs a thumb over my bottom lip. “Why I wanted to take you here.”

  This time when he presses his lips to mine, I welcome it. The slow seduction of his tongue dancing with mine. The feel of his strong hands framing my face. The taste of wine. The muted sound he emits that tells me this kiss is affecting him just as much as it is me.

  It’s a kiss without a forgone conclusion. There isn’t a place where we can rip each other’s clothes off and go at it. There is no urgency along with it.

  It’s a kiss simply to kiss. A soft, slow reminder that whatever is between us is there without the promise of sex.

  It’s intimate when we’ve seen each other naked.

  It’s tender when we’ve always been in a frenzy.

  It’s … it’s wow.

  And the kiss sticks with me long after he pays the tab. It stays front and center in my mind while we stroll up and down the main street without a purpose. It’s as if we know when we leave, the feeling that kiss gave us—contentment, intimacy—will remain.

  We dig our toes into the sand. He looks funny in his slacks and bare feet, shoes in hand, but he obliges me when I ask to go closer to the water. We walk in a comfortable silence, soaking up the atmosphere, the break from work, and each other’s company.

  Cloaked in the moonlit darkness, we slowly make our way back to where his SUV is parked. Music starts up somewhere. It’s a pop song with a funky beat that I start dancing to, causing Holden to shake his head and laugh.

  “C’mon. Dance with me,” I say.

  “I don’t dance.” But he watches me. His eyes on my hips as they sway. His lips pursing as I spin around like a teenager who doesn’t care who’s watching.

  He’s a stoic figure that I try to cajole and tempt but fail at convincing.

  The song ends and he claps as I bow dramatically, before grabbing my hand and pulling me into him.

  I land against his chest, out of breath, and suddenly become fully aware of the emotion brimming in his eyes.

  Desire and something else I can’t place.

  The song changes. Someone’s laugh floats toward us. The waves crash on the beach behind me.

  But he’s the only thing I see. The one who has my undivided attention.

  I lean up on my toes and kiss him.

  I get lost in the sensations. The warm sand on my feet and the cool ocean breeze. The heat of his body against mine and the softness of his lips. The strength in his hands as they hold me against him and the ache burning in every single place we touch.

  “Don’t look now, Mr. Knight,” I murmur against his lips as we sway ever so subtly, “but you’re dancing.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  Holden

  To say I was surprised to see our floor’s lights turned on when we pulled into the parking lot well after 9 P.M. is an understatement.

  My first thought? Fuck. There goes my chance to kiss Rowan one more time before sending her home.

  My second? What the fuck is going on? No one stays here this late except for me. Except for Rowan. So why do I see lights on from my parking spot in the lot? And why is my fucking light on in particular?

  So when I walk into my office and see Audrey sitting behind my desk, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and a mouth pulled tight, I’m more than a little surprised.

  “Why are you still here?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder when I hear other voices down the hall, but then back to her.

  She chuckles but it holds no humor. Why do I feel like I’m about to get my ass handed to me?

  “Well, it was either stay and cover for you in your meeting with Allied Industrial or leave like you did and hang you out to dry.”

  Oh. Shit.

  The meeting. I forgot all about the fucking meeting. Between Leo and … and then taking Rowan to the coast.

  The wine.

  The moonlight.

  Her kiss.

  “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t—”

  “Kind of hard to do that when your phone is off, now, isn’t it?”

  And the hits just keep on coming.

  “It’s a long story. The phone I mean.” I try to explain away like a teenager in trouble. My pride has me biting back the excuse, but the fact that this woman can see right through me has me putting it out there regardless.

  “I’m sure it is. Long and full of bullshit.”

  “I’m human, Audrey. I forgot.”

  “But that’s the thing. Holden Knight never forgets a thing. So that begs the question: What is it that has you so distracted?”

  I stare at Audrey. Big eyes. Clenched jaw. This is as close as she gets to reprimanding me, and that’s happened fewer times than I can count on one hand.

  My chest constricts in my chest, but I don’t give her question an answer.

  “Like I said, it slipped my mind.”

  “Uh-huh.” She’s not buying it.

  I snort. “I apologize. I deserve whatever shit you’re about to hand me.”

  “I’m not handing you anything, Holden,” she says like a true mother, a master at guilt. “I’ve worked for you for many years. Hell, I even picked up my life to come here with you while you’re doing whatever it is that you’re doing here.” She knows what it is that I’m doing, but her glance down the hallway tells me she’s choosing her words wisely. “But in all that time, I’ve never seen you turn your phone off, let alone miss a meeting. Not once.”

  I scrub a hand through my hair. She’s right. She’s fucking right. “Stuff happened.”

  “Stuff?” She lifts her eyebrows, clearly not buying my story. “I’m sure stuff happened.”

  “What? Just come out and fucking say it. You’re going to in the end anyway.”

  She rises from my seat and stops as she passes me. Her voice is soft, stern, when she speaks. “I understand why this project has you rattled a bit. There are a lot of moving parts and even more history behind why they’re moving. But the Holden Knight I know doesn’t fuck up like he did tonight. He’s meticulous. He’s calculating. He puts the end game before all else.”

  A nod is my only response.

  “If you want this to all go down like you’ve planned, then I suggest you figure out why you fucked up tonight, what distracted you, and fix it fast.” She lifts an eyebrow with a glance toward Rowan’s office. I don’t dignify the supposition with a response. “Figure out how to undistract yourself. You’re only going to get one shot at this.”

  “Noted.” I clear my throat and move to take back my seat. Audrey’s lecture time is now over, and as irritated as I am that she just read me her riot act, her words eat at me more than they should. “A kid named Leo will be calling you tomorrow,” I call after her just as she’s about to leave my office.

  She turns and meets my eye. “He already did. Hours ago. Said he wanted to make sure your word was good, whatever that means.”

  “Great. He was part of the reas—”

  “Don’t try to blame some kid for your fuckup.” She gives me major side-eye that has me laughing and holding up my hands in surrender. “There’s more to the story. Just don’t get so lost in its chapters you forget about the ending you want.”

  I watch her walk toward the elevator, purse over her shoulder, and pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Well … fuck.

  But I don’t have much time to dwell on her or chastise myself for it because the minute the elevator doors shut, Tweedledee and Tweedledum are walking down the hall toward my office.

  Huh. Guess we weren’t here alone after all.

  Audrey’s right. You’re losing your edge, Knight.

  “Where were you?” Rhett asks like he has a right to know.

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “You heard me,” Rhett says. He’s clearly irritated and more than wrong if he thinks I’m going to tell him shit.

  “I was out. What I was doing is none of your business.”

  “You were with Rowan,” he says as he strides in front of my desk. “You had Audrey bring her car back so that means she was with you. Are we taking secret field trips now? Should I worry about the lengths you’ll go to get inside information on me? On us?”

  Touchy. Touchy. Someone is most definitely getting paranoid.

  “Now, why would I need inside information?” I ask. “What good will that do me if everything is on the up-and-up like you say it is? Is there something you want to share with me?”

  They exchange a look. Ah. Definitely paranoid.

  Gotcha.

  “Rowan. Were you with her?”

  “I was. Yes.” I lean back and contemplate the million answers I could give. The thoughts alone leave a half-assed smirk on my lips.

  Rhett catches it. So does Chad. Perfect.

  “Looking at property,” I say.

  “Where?”

  I chuckle; the sound hits like a fuck you if you think I’m telling you, but then I decide to play with them some. “There are a few across state lines we checked out. A few within state lines.”

  “You still haven’t said why you’re looking at property,” Chad says.

  “I wasn’t aware I had to, but you can never go wrong with property, right? It’s always deemed a surefire investment.” Haven’t we had this conversation before? “It’s tangible. The interest is a write-off. I could go on, but I’m sure you guys know all the reasons.”

  Rhett nods. “Rowan doesn’t know shit about real estate.”

  “Perfect. All the more reason to have her tag along so I can teach her.” What else you got, Rothschild?

  “Great, fine. But can’t it wait? This is a huge transition—you coming in. Taking over. Probably changing things up. Maybe we should all just stick to what we know for now and rattle the cages in six months when everyone is more comfortable.”

  I hold his stare and love that he’s trying to make demands of me. I decide to carry on the conversation as if he asked. “We were looking at a piece of land off of Grafton Road. Another on Highway 43. And, shit, where was the other one?” I shuffle through the papers on my desk as if I can’t recall and stop when I find some random map. “Oh, right. Another out on WillowBend and Greenmill.”