Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

KATE

" H ey, Margo. Any messages for me?"

"Only that your eleven o'clock has pushed back to twelve, but your calendar was clear, so I went ahead and confirmed. How were your morning meetings?"

"Yeah, okay," I say with a yawn, standing at the reception desk of Preston & Preston, the law firm I've worked at for the past six years.

"You did, um…get one more, but I don't think it's work-related."

I stop scrolling through the emails on my phone. "Oh yeah?"

"From Tom Bennett. He said he'd tried to reach you over the weekend but was sent to voicemail. He was concerned and asked that you call him." Margo wears an unsure smile as she delivers the message from my ex-boyfriend.

"Thank you for letting me know. I can take it all from here." Signing the half dozen letters set out to go in the mail for various clients, I turn on my heel and move toward my desk. Felicity's remains empty and has been for the past ten days. I've found myself counting down the time until she returns from her honeymoon. The pictures she's sent from Barbados look insane, but I can't wait to have my best friend back.

Setting my bag and jacket down, I begin replying to various emails that have come in over the weekend.

I'm halfway through an email when my phone vibrates, and a text appears at the top of the screen.

Tom

I miss you. Talk to me, and we can take things at your own pace.

It's been like this for the past ten days since I got back from Oxford. I've sent him a few short replies, but really, how many ways can you kindly tell someone it's over?

I'm sure he'd feel differently if he knew I'd slept with someone else.

And there's the issue—Tom keeps blowing up my phone, but the guy I can't get off my mind has sent two measly texts.

Two.

Dickhead

Landed ten minutes late. I hope you didn't miss your important work commitments.

Me

You tracked my plane?

Flight BA1749.

That's the extent of it. I slept with him, he pissed me off the next morning, and other than track my flight, he hasn't been in touch.

Argh, why does that bother me?!

This is where I need a morning coffee in the kitchenette with Felicity. Except I can't tell her about what happened. Not because I'm ashamed, but because she'd ask questions about us that I'm not prepared to answer.

I hate that I like him.

I hate that I should be replying to nice guy Tom and not sitting and waiting for Mr. Dickhead himself to show just a little bit of interest in me.

He only tracked my flight so he could message me and call me out for my bullshit work excuse. And he'd be right.

And he knows it.

He also knows what he's doing in bed.

For the hundredth time, I squeeze my thighs together at the memories. The way he sunk inside me from behind and wrapped his hand around my throat. Fuck, he was good. Just like he promised. And just like he predicted, I want more. Correction, my body wants more, but my brain reminds me of all the ways I was stupid for climbing into his bed in the first place.

"Kate."

"Hmmm?"

"Your client is here. The eleven o' clock. Mr. Jones."

"Huh?"

"The one who had to push back an hour due to another meeting he had." Margo points to the meeting room around the corner. "He's ready and waiting."

"Oh. Sure." I stand from my desk and pick up the file. Not that it's any use since there was barely any information included.

I'll just wing it.

Pushing the door open to the room, I glance down at my watch. "Apologies, Mr. Jones. I was held up on another call."

"Don't tell lies, Princess."

Oh, holy hell.

"What are you doing here?"

Jensen smirks at me. Leaning back in his chair, with his bent leg resting across the opposite knee, he takes a sip of water. "Here to take you out to lunch."

My body buzzes with excitement, not that he needs to know that. Propping a hand on my hip, I lie, "I don't have time, I've another client in a half hour."

He stands and shoves his hands into his pockets, rounding the table slowly. We're only two feet apart when he finally comes to a stop. "Margo said your calendar is free this afternoon."

Damn it, Margo.

"Why do you want lunch with me?"

"To talk. I'm not a fan of texting. I prefer the old-fashioned way."

"Jensen. I'm not sure?—"

"Stop fighting it, Princess. I've got a table booked at an Italian restaurant in five minutes."

"I still don't know what you want to talk about. I've got nothing to say to you."

He takes a small step toward me. "Since you're full of bullshit today, why don't you go ahead and lie some more. Lie and say you haven't thought about what I did to you that night, how I made you feel?"

All the time.

"I haven't. It wasn't especially memorable."

He puffs out a disbelieving breath and shakes his head slowly. "Wrong answer, Princess."

"I'm not going to lunch with you. My calendar is clear because I have a ton of work to get through."

Just as I finish my latest lie, a sharp stabbing pain hits me in the lower right-hand side. "Ouch."

"Kate?" Jensen's tone changes dramatically.

"Ow!"

I meet his eyes, which hold the same level of concern. "What's wrong?"

Shaking my head, I drop my hand from the area it was covering. "Nothing."

His hand darts out to replace mine, and my body fizzes with another dose of excitement. "Sure didn't look like nothing."

Taking a deep breath, I center myself and then take a step back, far enough so I'm now out of reach. "I'm fine, but I am really busy."

"I want to fuck you again."

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline in surprise. I thought I was the queen of come out and say it. "I'm sorry?"

He closes the space between us again, and I step back once more. But this time, my back is met with the wall. He places his palm above my head and leans into me, his breath dancing across my collarbone. "No one finishes a meal after only the appetizer. Especially when it was that good. I want more. The entire menu."

Heat pools at my core.

"It wasn't that good."

Throwing his head back, he laughs, and I'm one hundred percent sure the office can hear.

"Shh! What the fuck are you doing?"

"Jesus, Kate. You're so full of bullshit." He sounds incredulous.

"Aww, does it hurt your manhood that a woman finally turned you down?"

"No one's turning anyone down. All I see is a silly little girl playing silly little games."

Placing a palm on his chest, I wear a mocking smile. "And all I see is a deluded man. It's not happening again. End of story." Whipping from under his arm, I take a couple of paces and pull open the door. "I hope the restaurant accepts tables for one."

All day I've swung back and forth, cursing and congratulating myself for turning Jensen down for lunch. He said he wanted to talk, but it's obvious what he's really after—proving to me that I can't resist him.

Well, Kate Monroe has more willpower than that.

My meal for one pings in the microwave, and I throw a tossed salad onto my plate to accompany the lasagna. Appetizing. But when you work until almost eight in the evening each night, getting home and cooking a gourmet meal is far less appealing.

Especially when it's just for yourself.

I've been avoiding Tom all day, but I can't put it off any longer, so as I take a seat on my couch, my plate balancing on my knee, I tap out a reply.

Me

Hey, I'm fine. I just don't have a lot to say. I hope you're doing okay.

Very vanilla.

A response comes through in seconds.

Tom

I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard. I don't want things to end between us.

I wish I didn't have to hurt him.

I don't want to hurt you, but you need to know I don't want to try again.

I set my phone down and begin flicking through channels.

Are you still coming to Marissa and Brad's engagement party in September?

I pinch my brows together. Why is he asking that?

Yes, why?

I want to give you some space to think everything through, but I'd really like you to be my date.

He's pushing really hard on this. He needs to know the truth.

Tom, I slept with someone else. There's no kind way of telling you that, but I've moved on, and I don't want you to hold out for me. I'm so sorry.

I push my plate off my lap and onto the coffee table in front of me. My appetite has deserted me and been replaced with a nauseating feeling. I might be as direct as they come, but that doesn't mean I don't have empathy. I hate hurting people, but stringing Tom along is arguably even worse.

My phone vibrates again, but this time, the text makes me smile.

Luna

Lunch on Saturday? I think we need to catch up. It'll be two weeks since I saw my girls, and that is way too long. Felicity, you aren't allowed to go on anymore honeymoons, and Kate, you aren't allowed to disappear into your working cave.

My girls, just when I need them.

Felicity

The sun is shining so bright on my screen that I can barely make out what I'm typing, but trust me, I do not plan on any more marriages, but maybe extended honeymoons...

Me

Rub it in with the sun. It's pouring here. Yeah, Saturday is good with me.

Luna

Great. I'll book the table at Luigi's for one p.m. I can't wait to see you!