CHAPTER SEVEN

ALICE

Things were going so well and now Marcus yelled at those women and looks like he’s ready to bite someone’s head off. The abrupt shift confuses me.

My phone picks that moment to ring and a glance shows it’s my boss calling. Guess I’m needed back at work. Jerry is a great guy to work with but seems to forget that I want every single minute of my hour lunch break. I don’t live and breathe the job like he does.

I don’t bother answering, but I do send a fast text letting him know I’ll be back in the office in ten minutes. Which is still five minutes before the end of my lunch.

“Let’s do this again,” I declare to Marcus, stuffing my phone back in my bag along with the trash from my lunch.

His eyes narrow and a guarded expression tightens his face. “Lunch?” he asks, making the word sound like one he’s never heard before.

Nodding, I smile. “Yes. Same time here on Wednesday?”

Marcus’s deep green eyes assess me, and I wish I could have an inkling of what he’s thinking. Finally, he gives a curt nod and stuffs his lunch bag back into the backpack affixed to his wheelchair.

In a smooth move born of practice, he transfers from the bench into his wheelchair and arranges his legs before I have time to blink.

“Okay, I better get going before my boss sends out a search party for me.”

Marcus’s lips don’t even quirk at my joke and suddenly I’m wondering what I’m doing. I thought there was interest on both our parts. He even said he wanted to get to know me better on our first date.

He also shut down at the end of that too.

Is this a regular thing with him? Hot one minute, cold the next? I don’t like roller coaster rides and after the epic ride my ex took me on, I have no desire for another anytime soon.

Disappointment tugs at me as I stand. “Bye, Marcus,” I mutter, turning and walking down the path that heads to the side parking lot.

Walking, I can’t help but wonder if I should just cancel our Wednesday lunch now or not even bother because Marcus probably won’t show up, anyway.

Marcus’s deep voice shouts my name.

Every muscle in me tenses and I slowly look over my shoulder.

He’s rolling toward me, and I can’t help admiring the bunch and swell of his biceps through the light green material of his sleeves. He’s not wearing a suit jacket today, and during lunch I kept sneaking peeks at him while we sat next to each other.

I was impressed by the easy way he transferred himself from his wheelchair to the park bench, but part of me wished he had stayed in his chair so I could look straight at him and not have to be worried about being caught staring at him. It was hard not to soak him up as we sat side by side and ate our lunch.

The smell of his cologne teased at my nose, and I wanted to cuddle up next to him and bury my face in his throat and breathe him in. It was an intoxicating mixture of spice and cool mint; unlike anything I’ve smelled before. And while cuddled up to him, I wouldn’t have minded testing the hardness of his chest and arms.

Sitting that close to Marcus, I also noticed the few glints of silver in his raven-black hair. His close-kept stubble on his chin and cheeks didn’t contain any silver or gray, though. The temptation to reach out and run my hand along his jaw and feel how soft or coarse his facial hair was had kept me slightly on edge all during our time together.

And now the man that has me all tangled up on the inside is speeding towards me with a determined look on his face and a fierce glint in his eyes. I brace myself for the worst.

His large hands clutch at his wheels as he comes to a short stop in front of me. The difference in our heights should be off-putting as I stare down at Marcus. Somehow it isn’t and I like being able to see every part of his face and the emotions that tighten his already taut features.

He reaches behind him and rustles in his backpack, pulling out a box and offering it to me.

“I got this for you,” he says gruffly.

Taking it from him, I recognize what it is right away and turn the box over in my hands, reading the description and details eagerly. I saw these in the stores and thought about buying one but dismissed it as too frivolous a purchase.

“I just thought…” he trails off, his eyes darting to the side. “Look, if you don’t like it, it’s no big deal.”

My eyes snap to him. “I love it. Thank you!”

I don’t think, I just act, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning down to hug him. His warmth and the hard strength of his body immediately sets my heart pounding.

His hands go around my waist and for a moment he holds me, his head pressed against my chest. His mouth is so close to where my nipple is pebbled and straining against the material of my bra that a rush of heat flares low in my belly. I imagine I can feel his warm breath through my shirt, and I have to hold back a moan.

All too soon, he releases me and reluctantly I pull back. “Thank you. We’ll have to build this together sometime,” I say shyly.

His lips are pressed in a hard, thin line as he gives a curt nod before reversing slightly and then veering around me.

I stand in the middle of the walkway, clutching the Porsche building block kit in my hands, and watch him wheeling away.

How can a man confuse and captivate me all at the same time?