Honor

Chapter 46

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

R eid

Even in denim shorts with a fraying hem and a red T-shirt with a small hole on the shoulder, Evie is still the most beautiful woman who has ever graced this earth.

That’s not alcohol talking because I haven’t had a drop.

Almost everyone else at this very large dining table has, including my executive assistant.

I could tell she wasn’t a fan of the red wine poured into her glass by Linus, one of Randall’s friends. Thank Christ he has a wide gold band wrapped around his ring finger.

Jimmy, another acquaintance of Randall’s, is also in a relationship. He video chatted with the woman he’s involved with. He did that as the first course was being served. When he spun the phone around so everyone could raise a hand in greeting, I didn’t join in.

I saw no reason to since Charlotte stole the show by telling the woman she couldn’t wait to meet her at the wedding. When the phone was pointed at Evangeline, she waved and whispered a soft hello to Jimmy’s girlfriend.

My assistant is reserved and demure but still looks like a sexy siren with her signature red lipstick.

“Is that Bandello’s red, Evie?” I ask across the table when I catch her looking at her glass before she shakes her head slightly.

Her eyes reach mine as a slow smile spreads over those very kissable lips of hers. “Yes.”

I nod. “I’ll get you something else.”

Before she can protest or anyone else can slide to their feet to help her ( namely, Pete ), I’m on my way to the expansive kitchen.

This home has had at least one extensive renovation since I was here as a kid. Fromwhat I remember, it looked like a palace back then, too. Any improvements made were unnecessary in my book, but when the wealthy have money to burn, they’ll generally do it for one reason and one reason only.

To impress their equally rich friends.

As soon as I know I’m out of everyone’s view, I stop to rest a hand on the marble countertop and take a deep breath. It doesn’t help. My pulse has been racing since I first caught sight of my assistant standing in this house.

I feel like a kid with a crush, but I’m not a kid.

I’m a man with an aching desire to kiss that lipstick right off Miss Starling’s mouth.

“Reid?” Her whisper soft voice takes me completely by surprise.

I turn to find her standing less than a foot away from me. One sharp inhale of breath results in the gentle scent of her perfume enveloping me.

I’ll never look at a rose the same way again.

“Are you all right?”

Leave it to her to be concerned for me. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You seem different.” Her gaze falls to the open collar of my white linen shirt before it drops to my faded jeans.

I roll one sleeve up to my elbow. “It’s hot in here.”

She briefly glances down at the unmistakable outline of her hardened nipples under her T-shirt. “I think the air conditioning is set to its highest setting.”

“It can’t be,” I mutter, rolling the other sleeve.

“I came to help,” she tells me. “I think I’ll just have a glass of the iced tea Randall was raving about.”

She’s being too kind. He sputtered out a bunch of nonsense about making a pitcher of stellar iced tea, and since no one took him up on his offer of a glass, she’s feeding his ego by having some. I watched him make it. He had no clue what he was doing.

“It’s going to be bitter,” I warn her as she grabs a tall glass from the counter before she walks toward the pitcher of tea in the middle of one of the two islands in the kitchen.

“That’s not how he described it,” she says.

I watch her pour a full glass before she raises it to her lips. The expression on her face says it all as she gets her first taste.

“Spit it out,” I suggest, pointing toward the sink near her.

She ignores my advice and swallows. “I never spit out.”

She’s talking about the iced tea, but dammit if my brain can process that. All I can think about is the load I’m going to have to shoot out in the shower later while I imagine her on her knees in front of me, taking it all down her throat.

“You never spit out,” I repeat in a low tone.

Her gaze catches mine, and I see the moment she realizes how it sounded.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispers. “Although I don’t spit that out either.”

I didn’t need to know that, and yet, at the same time, I’ll never be able to forget it.

She barks out a nervous laugh. “I need to shut up. I meant that I generally don’t spit anything out.”

She can keep digging this hole as deep as she wants because I’m not going anywhere.

That’s a lie. I take a step closer to where she’s standing.

She doesn’t retreat. She holds her ground with her gaze locked on me. That’s fair because I can’t take my eyes off of her.

“Do I have something on my face?” she asks. “Is it salad dressing?”

Just as her hand is about to leap to her lips, I beat her to it. My index finger lands on her chin.

I tilt it up slightly. “Why would you think that?”

Her breath hitches. “You had that same look on your face the day I had ketchup and mustard on my face.”

I cup her chin between my finger and thumb. “What look is that, Evangeline?”

She studies me carefully. “It’s a mix of confusion and frustration, I think.”

It’s far from that. It’s wonder mixed with something bordering on infatuation.

“You think,” I repeat those two words. “Why would you think I’d be confused and frustrated?”

She swallows hard. “I’m not going to answer that. I want to keep my job.”

Despite my best efforts, I laugh. “This is a safe space. You have my word that whatever happens here won’t be held against you in the office.”

Her hand darts out in front of her. “Shake on it.”

Amused that she thinks we need to take that step, I do it only because it means I can touch her briefly with my other hand.

I do just that by taking her hand and holding it so she can’t let go.

She raises her chin as if she’s seeking an escape from my touch, but I don’t give her that. Instead, I ask her the question a second time, hoping she’ll answer. “Why would you think I’d be confused and frustrated with you?”

Her bottom lip quivers. It’s not quite a tremble, but it’s a sign that she’s feeling vulnerable. Still, I press because I like her like this, slightly exposed and off guard. “Tell me, Evie.”

“It’s not a secret.” She tries to laugh, but the sound is too soft, too broken, and too forced to hold any glee. “You don’t like me very much.”

I stare at her, trying to process those words as I say them over and over again in my mind.

“I can tell that I annoy you,” she whispers. “I know you always send me on those errand runs to get me out of the office.”

I step even closer to her. It’s so close that I could literally move just a few inches to kiss her.

She licks her bottom lip as she drops her gaze for a second before it’s back on my face. “I know it’s not a requirement that you like me. You tolerate me, so that’s something, right?”

My cock is aching inside my jeans. I’m so fucking tempted to tug her closer so she can feel the outline of it pressing against her while I ask her if that feels like a man who doesn’t like her.

Hell, I’m tempted to kiss her before I haul her over my shoulder, take her to the bedroom that I’m staying in, and fuck her until morning.

“You said you wouldn’t hold anything I said against me,” she reminds me. “So you can’t.”

I drop her hand, but mine lands on her hip and not by my side.

Her gaze drops to it. “Reid?”

“I like you,” I say – no - I fucking growl those two words out through clenched teeth because I’m barely holding onto my self-control.

Her eyes sear into me. “As much as you like Norbeta?”

A laugh escapes me as my finger catches in one of the belt loops on the waistband of her shorts. I tug her closer. “I’ve never liked Norbeta this way.”

Her lips part ever so slightly, and the softest sound floats out. “Do you mean the way I think you mean?”

“What the fuck is taking you two so long?” Randall’s voice booms through the air just before he rounds the corner.

Evie scurries back and out of my reach before he gets an eyeful of the two of us.

“I got a glass of iced tea,” she announces with way too much enthusiasm for such a substandard beverage.

“Lucky you,” Randall says and means it.

Evie sees an opportunity to flee, so she does just that with the glass of iced tea.

“I want a beer.” The groom-to-be sneaks past me on his way to the fridge. “Do you want one?”

“Sure,” I toss the word out without a hint of the crushing frustration I’m currently feeling.

“Pete says you’re going to make Evie work tonight.” He shakes his head. “Cut the girl a break, Reid.”

“We have unfinished business,” I say honestly. “Something tells me Evangeline won’t mind spending a few hours alone with me tonight.”