4. Kyle

4

KYLE

I watched Alayna leave my office, her arms full of rolled up architectural plans. Steve followed behind her like a well-trained puppy, laden down with even more rolled up drawings. We had a client who unfortunately didn't seem to understand my scope of responsibility, and they told their structural engineer to follow up with me regarding aspects of their new building that I had nothing to do with. In typical Alayna fashion, when she brought the problem to me, she already had a solution. She just needed my go ahead to proceed, which meant that I would have free time to work one-on-one with Clarissa this afternoon.

As they left, Clarissa arrived. There was some shuffling of feet as she danced around trying to get out of their way.

"What's that all about?" Clarissa asked after she stepped into my office.

"Somebody else's problem," I replied.

"Oh, yeah? And what exactly is their problem?" She sat down across from me and opened the little black sketchbook she always had with her.

"Are you taking notes?" I asked.

She was always taking notes. This woman was perceptive and tried not to miss any little detail. She looked up at me with a pencil poised over a blank page. "Of course. Always."

I leaned forward on my desk, resting on my elbows "Then write this down," I started. "Get yourself an Alayna. And when you find yourself one, overpay them because they will be worth every penny."

Clarissa scribbled frantically in her notebook.

"Are you telling me I should try to steal Alayna from you when I have my own firm?" She smirked.

"Not at all. More like telling you if they figure out a way to clone her, you need to make sure you get one."

She laughed. It was a delightful tinkling bell sound that made me think fairy magic had to be real. How else could somebody like Clarissa exist? Her smile brought joy, and her presence made me happy for no reason other than she was near. If it wasn't magic, I didn't know what it was.

I was surprised she didn't have wings. I felt like declaring loudly for all to hear, ‘I do believe in fairies. I do. I do.'

"So, what's the plan for the rest of the day?" she asked.

I pointed out the door, gesturing toward Alayna and Steve. "Well, Steve has a project with Alayna for the afternoon. That leaves us on our own."

"That could be dangerous," she teased.

She had no idea how dangerous. Especially if I let down my guard. Thoughts ricocheted through my head of just how dangerous I wanted to be with the woman who sat across from me. Thoughts that had nothing to do with sketches of buildings and aesthetic public spaces.

"You have no idea," I said.

Clarissa glanced down, a tinge of pink blushing her cheeks.

"I think I have an idea of how dangerous you could be." Her eyes met mine for a brief second. She bit her lower lip as her gaze darted away from me again.

I eased back in my chair, lacing my fingers and folding my arms to prop my head against my palms.

"How about this? You tell me when it's getting too dangerous for you."

She put her pencil down and closed the sketchbook over it. "I don't know if I should play this game or not, but I'm feeling pretty daring right now."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked.

She continued to chew on her lower lip. Her cheeks grew brighter as she gave me a little nod.

"Then maybe we should take this game out of the office," I announced.

Her eyes went wide, and she swallowed before she nodded.

"Where do you want to take this?" she asked.

I had a short list of where I wanted to take her. Trial by fire, see if she could keep up. My groin tightened, and I felt the primal urge to growl and haul her out of her chair and throw her plump ass over my shoulder before carrying her out of the office and into a cave to ravish her. I clenched my jaw and willed the caveman inside me to calm the fuck down.

Dinner would be nice. I should start with dinner like a civilized man. Even if she didn't make me feel like one.

"Did you want to go over my sketches?" she asked.

I wanted to go over more than just her sketches. Sketches, we could review in the office.

"I want to have one of those conversations where we don't have to worry about who walks in. I want to find out more about you," I admitted.

"Me? I pretty much already told you everything there is to know about me."

Slowly, I shook my head back and forth. "You've told me about your plans for your career. You've told me about your education thus far. But you haven't told me about you. I don't know why you want to become an architect."

She opened her mouth and shifted to speak. I held up my hand, stopping her before she gave me a generic, well-rehearsed answer.

"I have questions that I shouldn't ask while I sit on this side of my desk and you're sitting on that side of it."

"Questions that you could ask sitting across from me at a dinner table?" she asked. Her blush still colored her cheeks.

"Are you asking me out to dinner? Because if you were, I could ask how far down that blush goes? And that's not something I would dare to ask you while we sit here."

She didn't exactly flinch. Her blush grew stronger, and her eyes grew bigger. I could see her shiver like a cornered rabbit. The thought of making her that nervous, instead of deterring me and making me back off, had me wanting her even more.

She stared at me for a long moment before licking her lips. "Dinner could be dangerous."

I smiled, exposing all of my teeth. Skirting the edge of this flirtation was getting me hard. If I was going to be uncomfortable and inappropriate, I didn't want it to be here.

"It's time to take this conversation elsewhere," I announced as I pushed to my feet and stepped around from behind my desk.

Clarissa got to her feet, and I indicated that she should lead the way out. I paused as we passed Alayna's desk. She and Steve were setting up a system organizing the rolls of drawings.

"Looks like you two will be at this for a while," I said.

Alayna gave me a weary sigh. "Yep."

"Make sure you order dinner in," I said. "Feed Steve and charge it back to the client."

"Where are we going?" Clarissa asked nervously.

"Have you ever taken a walking tour of the architecture in Chicago?"

She laughed. It was a genuine laugh. I didn't hear a hint of a nervous giggle. It was a good sign that she had started to relax.

"Of course I have. I've been on many. You can't study architecture in this city and not. Between class field trips and assignments, I could probably give those tours."

"Good. That's what you're going to do. Take me on a walking tour of your favorite architectural details."

She stopped and stared at me. "Are you serious? Right now?" She glanced down at her feet. I followed her gaze.

She had sturdy boots on. She didn't tend toward spindly high heels in her fashion choices. "You can walk in those boots, right?"

She nodded. "To quote Nancy Sinatra, ‘These boots are made for walking.' I just can't think of any places to show you."

I lifted my brows. "I thought you said you could give a tour?"

She resumed walking. "I can, but you said of my favorite places. That's different."

"How? Why?"

"Because I have to weigh and judge and think about why I would consider that detail, or that building, one of my favorites. Also, I'm showing you my favorites. Now I have to second guess what your motivation is. Are you judging me based on my choices? What if you absolutely hate my favorites?"

I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her.

She stopped walking and faced me. My hand slid down her arm and rested just above her elbow.

"You're overthinking this. How about showing me five things you might include on a walking tour if you were organizing one? Don't worry about whether or not it's your favorite or if it has historical significance."

"But…"

"You'll explain why you're showing it to me as you're giving your tour. Is that easier?"

She nodded. "Okay, let me get my stuff."

I followed Clarissa to the conference room that had been set up as office space for the interns. She began putting items into an oversized tote bag, including the sketchbook that she took her notes in and an oversized water bottle.

"Do you bring all of that just for work every day?" I asked.

"Gotta stay hydrated," she said, shaking the water bottle at me.

"You could leave your work stuff here, at work," I pointed out. "It's why we gave you an office of sorts."

She shrugged. "I guess I could." As she stared at her tote bag, she twisted her mouth and then bit her lip in what I was learning was an expression of concentration for her.

"Do you really need the sketch book at home? Or the water bottle? You could leave it here and not have to carry it back and forth. Let me guess, you haul in that thing full of water, plus carry a coffee every morning, right?"

"Hey, have you been spying on me?"

I chuckled. "No, but I see other women commuting in, and they are absolutely laden down with too many drinks. Leave the water bottle or get one that's just for work that you can leave. Put down the sketchbook. What else is in that tote bag?"

She pulled something dark out. "A sweater."

"It's unseasonably warm outside and you're bringing a sweater to work?"

"It can get cold in the building," she said.

"Then leave it here," I directed.