Chasing Chelsea (NSFW Book 4) Page 4

  I might let things slide in the office. Okay, so sometimes I let things slide in the office because I didn’t want Chris to feel obligated to fire me, though I still enjoyed giving Landen a hard time.

  But in romantic relationships, I wanted something different. I wanted a partner. Someone who wouldn’t treat me as though I were an employee but an equal. I had a hunch that Landen wouldn’t know how to treat me as an equal. Not just because of his arrogance but his intellect. The man was smarter than anyone I’d ever met, including my boss, Chris, who was no slouch when it came to brains.

  I’d barely made it through business school. I understood the principles and concepts, but I still struggled the entire time. I didn’t retain information the way Landen and Chris did.

  Oh, and he was a freaking client. That had to be a no-no, even if it wasn’t in the employee handbook. Ethics and all.

  There were too many reasons to think that getting involved with him was a bad idea, no matter how attractive I found him.

  “Earth to Chelsea,” Landen drawled.

  I realized that I’d been staring into his dark blue eyes with an unfocused gaze for an indeterminate amount of time. “What?”

  He smirked at me and leaned forward. I sucked in a sharp breath as his lips barely touched mine, suddenly very aware of how thin my skirt was and how close his body was to mine.

  Then he pulled away and said, “Are you hungry?”

  I shook my head but my stomach awoke at the question of food and growled loudly. I felt the heat rise up my neck and into my cheeks and I scowled.

  Landen just laughed and grabbed my waist, lifting me off the counter. I didn’t squeal this time, though it was a near thing, and grabbed onto his shoulders to keep my balance as he set me on my feet.

  I wobbled when I put down my sore foot and realized my shoes were still on the floor next to him. Before I could say a word, he crouched down before me and grasped my ankle. I kept my hands on his shoulders for balance as he slid my shoes back on, one at a time. Then my stomach turned a somersault as he trailed the tips of his fingers up the back of my calf and prayed I hadn’t missed any spots shaving that morning.

  When he rose, my breathing wasn’t entirely steady and I could feel the flush still heating my face.

  He studied me in silence for a protracted moment before he reached up and took my hand off his shoulder. “Let’s get dinner.”

  Landen tugged me along behind him out of the kitchen and over to my desk. He perched on the edge as I shut down my computer and removed my purse from the bottom drawer. I slipped the strap over my head so the bag lay across my body.

  He picked up the picture frame I kept next to the pencil cup and stared at the picture as though he were trying to figure out a puzzle. It was a photo of five of us at Lucy’s first photography showing here in Dallas last year. Lucy was in the middle, flanked by Tanya, Yancy, Grier, and me. We all had our arms around each other and wide, bright smiles on our faces. Well, they were all smiling. I had my head tilted back as I laughed. I remembered it was because Marcus had cracked a joke. I couldn’t remember what he’d said, but Lucy’s ex-boss, a world-renowned photographer, was hilarious. And very sexy. He wasn’t necessarily my type, but I could appreciate the gifts nature had given him.

  “Landen, about what happened this weekend at the wedding—” I began. His head snapped up and he placed the frame back on my desk. Something about his posture gave me pause but I steeled myself and continued, “We both had a little too much to drink and got carried away. I don’t think it would be smart to read anything more into it than that.”

  My body tensed when he got to his feet in a fluid motion and stalked toward me. All thoughts of standing my ground scattered as he closed in on me. Self-preservation kicked in and I retreated until my back hit the wall behind me.

  Landen’s hands came up and pressed to the wall on each side of my head and he leaned in, crowding me until our bodies were less than an inch apart. “You mean it was just a fluke, that if I kissed you right now you wouldn’t open your mouth for me and try to yank my hair out by the roots like you did Saturday?”

  I frowned at him. He was right, I had done both of those things on Saturday, but as I feared, he was taking it for granted.

  I placed my hands on his chest and shoved. He moved back an inch but that was all. He still loomed over me like a dark, sexy, angry cloud. “And that right there is exactly why I don’t want to get involved with you. You kissed me and I kissed you back. It’s not a big deal. If I don’t want to go any further than that, it’s my prerogative. Just because I find you attractive does not mean that I’m going to ignore my common sense.”

  “And what does your common sense say?” he asked, his voice dark and dangerous.

  “That this is a bad idea,” I retorted. “If we ignore the reality that you’re one of Chris’ clients, then there’s the fact that we argue every time we see each other and there are times you get on my last damn nerve because you’re so high-handed. I don’t see us making it past one date.”

  His head cocked to the side and his hand moved from the wall to my face, cupping my cheek. His eyes dropped to my mouth and his thumb trailed across my bottom lip in a soft caress. “We argue because I like arguing with you. And you like arguing with me. If you didn’t, you’d just freeze me out the way you do everyone else who gets on your nerves.”

  How in the hell did he know me so well? I didn’t share personal details with him when he came to the office. And most of our conversations revolved around bickering. Clearly, he observed me more than I thought. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I merely stared up at him with narrowed eyes.

  Finally, he sighed and smiled slightly. “Fine, you said we wouldn’t make it past one date, right?”

  I nodded slowly, a sinking feeling in my chest at where that question was most likely leading.

  “Then let me take you to dinner right now, tonight, and put that to the test.”

  My eyes squinted more. “But you can’t be on your best behavior,” I stated. “You have to be yourself and not act differently because you want to win.”

  He chuckled. “I’m always myself.” His hand moved from my cheek and he tapped my nose with the tip of his index finger. “And you’ll be your usual feisty self, I take it? Or do you intend to act like a brat just to test me.”

  I wasn’t sure it was possible to squint and lift your eyebrows at the same time, but I managed it. “Of course not. I’ll behave as I usually do when you’re around.”

  With my agreement, he pushed away from me, putting a foot of space between us. “Then let’s go have dinner.”

  Without waiting for my agreement, he took my hand and pulled me toward the door of the office.

  As I turned off the lights and locked the door, I suppressed the urge to laugh. There was no way we would get through appetizers without our conversation devolving into a heated argument. No way at all.

  Chapter Five

  The place Landen chose surprised me. It was a small Greek restaurant with candles on every table, friendly staff, and, if the smell was anything to go by, delicious food.

  Another thing that surprised me was his lack of argument when I insisted on driving my own vehicle. He’d merely shrugged and used an app on his cell phone to share the location of the restaurant with me. Which made me suspicious.

  Still, once we were there and seated, my stomach let me know on no uncertain terms that I’d missed lunch and I needed to feed it soon or there would be dire consequences.

  Yes, my stomach and I had that kind of relationship. I was one of those women who got hangry. And it wasn’t pretty when I did.

  When the waiter approached, I opened my mouth to order an appetizer but Landen beat me to it.

  “We’ll take an order of tzatziki with extra pita to start,” he stated. “But we’ll need a few moments to decide on our entrees.

  The waiter smiled and nodded as he filled our water glasses then walked away.

  I lifted a bro
w at Landen as I sipped my water.

  He shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I knew you were hungry.”

  I lowered my glass. “Yes, but perhaps I would have liked something else.”

  His grin widened but he didn’t take the bait. “Would you like me to call him back over here?”

  I stared at him as I tapped my finger on the table. “No, I happen to like tzatziki.”

  He leaned forward and laid his hand over mine, stilling the rhythmic beat of my finger on the table. “Am I allowed to offer suggestions?”

  My eyes narrowed. “Yes, of course,” I replied primly.

  Then I let it go. I didn’t like it when men tried to order for me without asking me what I wanted first. In this case, it wasn’t worth the effort because I liked what he ordered and I wasn’t going to deprive myself just to be contrary. I would definitely eat more than my share.

  A few months ago, I’d gone on a date with a man who insisted he order my meal because I’d never been to the restaurant before and he knew “exactly what a woman like me would want.”

  Then the bastard ordered me a salad with a vinaigrette on the side, no meat on it, and that was it.

  Needless to say, there wasn’t a second date.

  Landen distracted me from my thoughts by turning my hand over, cradling it in his and smoothing his thumb across my palm. The calluses on his fingers surprised me because I knew he mostly worked behind a desk. They also made tingles spread up my arm because they created an exhilarating sensation.

  The waiter returned with our appetizer before I could finish wracking my brain for something to say. Landen seemed reluctant to release my hand but he let me go when I tugged it free and reached for the spoon.

  The tzatziki was tangy, creamy, and perfectly seasoned and the toasted pita with it was delicious. I bit back a moan as I took my first bite and watched Landen drop a good-sized dollop of the dip on his plate and quite a few pieces of pita.

  “Do you know what you’d like for your entree?” the waiter asked.

  I grimaced. I’d been so distracted by Landen that I’d barely looked at the menu. Then I smiled at the waiter as I swallowed the pita in my mouth. “What would you recommend to someone who’s never eaten here before but loves Greek food?” I asked.

  I saw Landen smirk out of the corner of my eye but ignored him.

  The waiter pointed to three different selections, describing each and explaining what side dishes came with them. They all sounded perfect.

  Finally, I said, “I’ll take the Greek combo.” It contained a little of each of some of my favorite Greek foods.

  The waiter nodded and looked toward Landen, who was grinning widely. “That’s a great choice. I want the Athenian combo.”

  That had been my second choice.

  “Do you want to split a bottle of wine?” Landen asked me.

  I shook my head. After what happened at the wedding, I was staying away from alcohol whenever I was around this man. It was too dangerous.

  As the waiter walked away, I turned to Landen. “How do you feel about sharing?”

  He studied me, his eyes way too intense for my casual question about sharing our dinner. “I think it’s overrated.”

  “So there’s no chance you’ll let me have a bite of your dinner?” I asked, batting my eyelashes in a ridiculous way.

  He chuckled. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I can make an exception just this once. What about you?” he asked, leaning closer.

  Our faces were just a few inches apart. “What about me?” My voice was soft and husky.

  “Are you willing to share?” His dark eyes gleamed in the candlelight, looking more black than blue.

  “Depends on what I’m sharing,” I answered. Unable to help myself, my eyes dropped to his mouth for a moment. A mouth that curved just a bit as he closed the distance between us.

  As he had earlier, Landen touched his mouth to mine in a whisper of a kiss before he withdrew, leaving me with tingling lips and heated skin. Our eyes were open and on each other the entire time.

  Then I licked my lips, tasting a hint of him. His eyes flickered down to my mouth and grew intensely focused.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  Before things could get out of hand, the waiter returned with our salads and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to thank him or swear at him for breaking the sensual spell that had fallen over me.

  I smiled at him and thanked him before he walked away. Landen merely grunted and picked up his fork.

  As I dug into my salad, I was suddenly aware that I was still hungry. Well, I was hungry for two things and only one of them was food. So I focused on the appetite that I could satiate at the moment and grabbed my fork.

  “So why are you working while Chris is gone?” Landen asked between bites.

  I shrugged. “He’s going to be gone for a week and the work would just pile up.”

  “Didn’t he offer you some time off?”

  “Yes, but I like to be busy,” I responded as I forked another bite of salad into my mouth. Like the tzatziki, it was delicious. The crisp lettuce was lightly dressed in a slightly sharp vinaigrette and the smooth, salty feta balanced out the vinegar. I could see why Landen liked this restaurant.

  To my utter shock, we talked about our work for the next few minutes without a single moment of bickering. Once our salads were devoured, the server returned and removed the plates, promising that our entrees would be out in a few moments.

  When the plates arrived, my eyes widened at the enormous amount of food. I would probably have leftovers, which made me happy since I could take them for lunch the next day. If I didn’t decide I wanted a midnight snack, anyway.

  Landen chuckled quietly at the greedy way I stared at his plate and put a piece of not only his shrimp and chicken souvlaki on my plate but part of a lamb chop.

  “Thank you,” I sighed as I cut into the tender lamb and lifted it to my mouth. This time I didn’t suppress the moan that rose in my throat as flavors exploded on my tongue. The lamb practically melted in my mouth.

  I realized I’d closed my eyes and opened them to find Landen staring at me again, his gaze hot and consuming.

  “Are you dating anyone right now?” he queried suddenly.

  I frowned at him as he cut into his chicken souvlaki. “Why do you ask?”

  He lifted the bite to his mouth but answered me before he slid the fork between his lips. “Because, as I stated earlier, I don’t like to share.”

  I frowned at him, unsure of how to proceed. He was talking as though he intended for us to be exclusive and this was our first dinner date, one that may not end well.

  “I’m not dating anyone right now, but all my online dating profiles are still active,” I replied with a shrug.

  He glared at me. “So you intend to continue dating?”

  I sighed and put my fork and knife down. His questions were putting me off my dinner, which was pissing me off as well because the food was amazing. “Listen, Landen, this is technically our first date. I’m not going to promise to go steady with you just because we’re sharing a nice meal and not sniping at each other like we usually do.”

  He stared at me, his expression thoughtful, as he continued to eat. “So when do you consider exclusivity?”

  Uncertain why he was asking me about all of this, I ate a bite of my mousakka and my eyes nearly crossed. As I chewed, I shrugged again. Once I washed the food down with a sip of water, I answered his question. “It depends on the person I’m seeing. If he broaches it after the second or third date and I’m interested in pursuing a deeper relationship with him, then I agree. Sometimes it takes a few dates to determine our compatibility.” I examined his features. “What about you? Are you dating anyone?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t date.”

  I glanced around the restaurant then back at him. “Then what are we doing right now?”

  He smirked at my sarcastic question. “Well, I don’t usually date,” h
e amended.

  “So, what do you do when you want to be exclusive with a woman?” I asked before taking a bite of the potatoes that had come with my They were divine. The flavors of olive oil, lemon, and oregano filled my mouth and I took another bite.

  “I ask her if she’s dating anyone else.”

  It took my mind a moment to switch gears from the incredible potatoes to his words. Especially since he’d just asked me if I was dating anyone as a prelude to this strange conversation.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I barely knew Landen. Well, at least in a non-professional capacity. I didn’t know what kind of television shows he watched, what music he listened to. I didn’t know anything about his past or what his plans for the future were. At least in a personal sense. I knew all about his business ventures, both past and present, but that wasn’t the same as knowing him and understanding what made him tick.

  The only thing I could do was be honest with him.

  “We don’t know each other very well, Landen,” I said carefully. But I kept my eyes on his. I wanted him to see my sincerity. “But I’m willing to change that if you are.”

  And it was the truth. Because as much as he irritated me, he also amused me. I liked the fact that he challenged me and that he didn’t back down from my sometimes abrasive personality. He was the first man in a long while who seemed to remain interested even after he’d gotten a good dose of my personality.

  My mother had long given up all her attempts to turn me into a Southern “lady” because no matter what she said or did, I always reverted back to the bold, outspoken woman I’d always been.

  More than once I’d caught her mumbling beneath her breath, “Just like her damn father.”

  Considering she usually said it with a smile, it obviously didn’t bother her too badly, though I had been known to embarrass her with my behavior.