Reid takes me through to his office. He opens the door, and I breathe in the paperbacks like a true book junkie.
Oh my God, I could live in here. I look around, my heart pounding as I take in the wall of bookshelves, the big desk with printed freaking manuscripts, and the big bay window with a seat built into it. His direct view from the desk is his wall of bookcases, but if he looks to his right, he’ll see outside.
It’s perfect.
I run my hand over the paper when a manuscript catches my eye. “Erm, what’s this one?”
“That’s something a little different. The author has potential. It’s unfinished, but I get it a few a chapters at a time.”
“Do you usually do stuff like that?”
“Not often. More so before I built up a larger client base. I don’t think anyone else at work does, but I’ve found some real talent that way. Sometimes an author just needs a bit of guidance.”
“Will you publish it?”
“Maybe.”
“Can I read it? I mean, it must be good if you’re taking it in parts.”
“I’m surprised you asked.”
“Yeah, me, too. Which one is better?”
He shrugs. “Red Grave is one I’m working on right now. It’s finished, so you wouldn’t have to wait.”
I tap my fingers on the pages of the completed stack next to the untitled manuscript. “All right, I’ll read this first. Hey, do you have a TBR list you’ll never finish?”
“I’ll die with over three hundred books I want to read.”
“Such a depressing thought. Have you always loved books?”
He visibly shudders. It’s not cold in here. “Only since I was ten.”
“Why, what happened when you were ten?”
“Why all the questions?”
Well, colour me suspicious. Why is he so shady about why he started reading? “Isn’t that what people do when they want to get to know each other?”
He looks at me for a second like he’s unsure why I’ve been here up until now.
I wait, listening to the soft ticking of a rather cool, large clock on the wall. Each number is from a printing press.
Nothing but silence joins us in this room. Nada. I’m not having that question answered, then. I bite my lip and watch his expression turn guarded. I’m half expecting him to throw me out for asking personal stuff.
“Fine, keep your secrets,” I say on a sigh. I sit down on his leather chair and pull Red Grave towards me. He goes to the bay window and takes a seat.
Reading is like breathing. I devour the words quickly, in awe of this author who is currently going through the publishing process. They sat and wrote this, and Wilson Press want to turn it into a book. It’s so inspiring, and I’m soon absorbed in the story.
“Are you skim reading? You’re getting through it,” Reid asks.
I glance up. “No, I just read fast, and this is good.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to read.”
He grabs a paperback that’s sitting beside him on the bay window. Kicking his feet up, he gets comfortable with his legs crossed at the ankles. I watch him open the book and continue.
That is so hot, I salivate.
Who doesn’t want to watch a gorgeous man reading? Everyone else can keep their firefighters. This is my porn.
God, should I be alone with him when I’ve only been single for a matter of hours?
Why the hell not? It’s not like he’s going to take me over his desk or against those bookshelves.
Yep, I should leave.
But I don’t want to.
This is my favourite room in the entire world. It’s comfortable, full of paperbacks, and it smells amazing. It also comes with a free fitty show.
Reid turns the page. His forearms are muscular. Couple that with books, and I’m done for.
I continue reading, sinking further into Reid’s comfortable chair. I feel the smile touch my lips. A good book is exactly what you need while sobering up. That, and a greasy breakfast, which I’ll have in the morning.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks. His rough voice sends a shiver down my spine.
I startle at my body’s response to his fucking voice. “Huh?”
“You’re scowling.”
I smooth my forehead. “Oh. Nothing really.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
“It is, promise.”
He can never know that I’m sitting here thinking about how hot he is.
“The book not holding your interest anymore? There are four chapters in the middle that seem flat.”
“I’ll let you know when I get there. Hey, what are those pictures on your wall?” I ask, noticing the cool prints.
“One is a waterfall, the other a wooden bridge, and then—”
“I can see that, thank you. Where are they? And if you say hanging on my wall, I’m going to shuffle all of these pages out of order.”
He laughs and stands up, leaving his book on the chair.
I follow him, walking around the desk to stand in front of the pictures.
“The first one is a rainforest in Careiro, Brazil. That suspension bridge in Japan is one hundred and sixteen meters long. The mountain is Dhaulagiri in Nepal. Jason and I climbed it two years ago. The last one is an old rollercoaster from the Camelot theme park that closed down in 2012. I took all of those pictures over the last few years.”
My mouth falls open. “You took those? You went to all these places? In person? For real?”
“Believe it or not, I do more than read books and workout at the gym. I try to get away two to three times a year.”
I stare at them in awe, my heart swelling so big that I’m probably going to have a heart attack. “You sure do. I would love to see all of this in person. To travel the world and collect these memories. I’ve really never seen anything. Why do you hang them in here?”
“This room is full of a thousand fictional worlds. I like to remind myself that I can visit a thousand real ones, too.”
My stomach tightens with a longing I’ve not felt this strongly before. I want this so badly, I can feel the yearning taking form in my soul. I want to plan a trip to someplace I’ve never been. I want to see things that look photoshopped.
“That’s amazing. I want that.”
“You can go anywhere you like, Mila.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I want to see this waterfall. Did you go in it?” He nods. “You’re not allowed to travel without me again.”
Leaning against the wall, he replies, “That would be completely appropriate.”
“Do you care about appropriate?”
“Less and less every day,” he replies.
My eyes slide sideways. Reid is staring at my lips like he’s going to claim them. Oh.
Hours. It’s only been hours!
The air between us heats by a few million degrees. I take a ragged breath, aching to move closer to him and feel those strong arms holding me close.
It’s all lust from here on out. His fiery eyes on me are a spell that I don’t want to break.
His tongue trails over his bottom lip.
I can’t move or speak. Reid doesn’t utter a word either, but he says everything he needs to with those dark eyes.
Desire fills my veins, pumping hard until I’m dizzy.
Curling my fingers into my palms, I watch him struggle internally, our eyes linked, breathing hitched.
Just two steps between us. That’s it. It would take only a second to meet in the middle, and another second to feel his mouth on mine.
Reid winces and pushes away from the wall.
I blink rapidly and turn away, the spell broken, leaving me cold and sinking in guilt.
What the hell was that?
I press my lips together.
He was going to kiss me, and I wanted him to. A wave of nausea hits my stomach, and it definitely isn’t the prosecco.
Would I have let him?
I want to say no. I want to be sure that I wouldn’t be in another man’s arms the same day that I ended a long-term relationship. But I’m not sure at all.
He goes back to his book, and I tiptoe to his desk, trying to make as little noise as I can so he doesn’t look over.
Cold, hard shame settles into my conscience, judging me for putting myself in this situation. Why didn’t I just go home when Spencer and Indie dropped me off? Who can’t even wait a day before wanting to kiss another man?
Bad, Mila. Very fucking bad.
Reid and I recover fast, and that’s because we don’t speak. It’s closing in on one a.m. now and he shows no sign of getting tired or wanting me to leave.
“I’m loving this. The guy is so creepy,” I say after a while of reading, which is the only thing I need to be doing in this house.
The tension from the almost kiss is long gone. It fizzed away, and now we’re pretending it didn’t happen.
“You’re probably ahead of me now,” he says. “You can write on it.”
“Huh?”
“The manuscript. If you have any thoughts—which you always seem to have—you can put it down with mine.”
“What, seriously? You want me to do that?”
“I’d like to know what you think, and I don’t just mean overall.”
I can’t believe he trusts me with this. “Okay. I do have some thoughts on some of the dialogue.”
He nods. “Good; put it down.”
“I’m sure you’ll soon scribble it out if my ideas are crap.”
“In bold red ink.”
“Will you also give me a report card with a big F on it?”
“F minus.”
“Damn it, you’re a savage, Mr Walker.”
“Are you tired yet?”
I purse my lips and shake my head, despite the fact that I’m still slightly under the influence and longing for my bed. “Nope, but that means you are.”
“The night is still young for me.”
“Do you always work late?”
“Not always. I do have a life, you know?”
I fake gasp. “Shut up. You do more than read?”
“Occasionally, I go out.”
“Breaking news. Oh my God, we should go out right now.”
“Have you taken something while I was making the coffee?”
“Found the stash of crack in your drawer.”
“I was saving that for a special occasion.”
I gesture down to my body. “Am I not a special occasion?”
He laughs.
I shake my head. “All right, Reid. I’m going to go home and let you work. Don’t lose my place on this.”
Holding up his palms, he replies, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I bite my lip as his dark eyes do stupid things to my insides. Let’s not go there again. I think tonight I’ll be dreaming of him.
Reid shows me to the door, and I get out of there as fast as I can.