“Everett, this is my sister Ginny. Her first name is actually Harriet, but she goes by her middle name,” Graham says. “Carver and I call her Harry. It’s just a dumb nickname.” He shoots me a grin. “That she hates.”
“And Everett’s last name is Clark,” Margot says, clearly trying to be helpful. “Graham just calls him Clark most of the time.”
Yeah, that would have maybe been good information to have.
But, then again, it wouldn’t have mattered, really. Everett didn’t give me his real first name that night. Because I told him not to.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, reaching out and grabbing his sleeve. I start for the back door.
“Ginny!” my mom starts.
“Just need a minute, Mom,” I say, not slowing down.
Sure, it probably looks weird for me to be dragging Everett, Graham’s best friend, who I’ve supposedly never met before, out of the room, but I can’t care about that. It’s vitally important that he and I talk and get a few things straight before we get any further into this weekend.
Oh my God, he’s staying for this whole weekend.
In Carver’s old bedroom.
The bedroom right next to mine.
I shake my head as I drag Everett down the back hallway, through the garage door, out of the garage, and around to the side yard.
I can’t think about bedrooms and Clark Kent right now. I really can’t. Not without wanting to climb his big body and kiss the hell out of him, at least.
He’s your BOSS!!
Yeah, that’s the other problem.
I stop and turn to him. “I…”
But what should I say? I can’t be angry that he’s here, or that he’s Graham’s friend. None of that is his fault. He didn’t know who I was either.
“We can not tell them what happened between us,” I say.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says.
“Yeah, well, ditto.” I cross my arms and ball my hands into fists to try to keep my palms from itching to run over his chest.
“This is wild.” He steps forward. “You’re Graham’s sister?”
“Yes. And you’re his best friend and business partner.”
“Yes. But the chances of us meeting are crazy, and now we’re both here. I never thought I’d see you again.”
I lift a shoulder. “That was the plan.”
“I’ve thought about you every single day.”
Jesus. I grip my hands tighter. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a very weird coincidence, but it doesn’t matter.”
“The fuck if it doesn’t.” He steps forward again, frowning. “I went back to the bar the next morning, trying to find out if anyone had more information about you. I went to every hotel in a five-block radius looking for you.”
My eyes widen. That’s…oh, dammit. That’s kind of nice. And romantic. “You were stalking me?”
“Not at all. Because I couldn’t find you.”
“If you had found me, you would have stalked me?”
“No.” He leans in. “Because you would have happily let me into your room. And your bed.”
He’s right. What can I say?
“Until I found out who you really are,” I tell him, stepping back.
“I’m Graham’s friend. Surely that’s a pretty great reference. You should definitely see me again. A lot more. You should spend all your time with me while I’m here. You should let me fly you back to Denver next weekend.”
Wow. He’s intense.
And, if he wasn’t who he is, I might really like that.
But…
“You’re my new boss.”
He opens his mouth, then stops. Frowns. Then starts again. “So what?”
“So I can’t date my boss. Or sleep with my boss. Or even be too friendly with my boss. You being my brother’s friend and being close to my family is bad enough.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s absolutely not,” I argue. “If you don’t have policies about dating your subordinates, you should.”
“But you got the job completely separate from us sleeping together. And I became addicted to your pussy without it having anything to do with your job with my company.”
How could I have forgotten his blunt way of talking?
Heat twists through my lower belly even as I force myself to say, “But now we know. We can’t keep seeing each other.”
“I disagree.”
“It was a fling. A one-night stand. A one-weekend thing where we were strangers. It didn’t mean anything, Clar…Everett.” It feels weird to call him Everett. Clark feels natural, but my brother calls him Clark.
“It didn’t mean anything?” he repeats.
“Right,” I lie. “It was fun, I’ll admit. But now we’re going to have a professional relationship, and that’s all it can be.”
He studies me for a long moment. Then his jaw firms, and he steps forward.
“Let’s see,” he says.
Then he cups my face and kisses me.
