“Yeah. Me, too.”
They simply stared at one another, neither of them moving as the next thirty seconds stretched out between them, palpably tense.
Shane finally moved, angling across the living room as Crickitt paced to her bedroom door and closed her hand over the knob. She stole a look across the room to find Shane watching her, hovering at the entrance of his own room.
“Um, good night,” she said.
A ghost of a smile curved his mouth. “Sweet dreams.”
And then he disappeared behind the door.
Chapter 24
Shane was attempting to suck up. Though he somehow doubted a bagel and cream cheese would make up for his behavior yesterday.
He didn’t sleep well. He’d lain awake, thinking of Crickitt on the other side of the house and wondering if she hated him. He didn’t make a habit of barking orders at his staff. And before yesterday, he’d never commanded anyone to go out of town with him. And he’d never, ever been callous to anyone for calling in sick.
He was embarrassed to admit his behavior mirrored that of a jealous high school boyfriend. Shane had no claim on her. If she wanted to go back to her husband, that was her business. It didn’t alleviate his worries. He didn’t want to see her get hurt, or make a mistake she’d later regret. But he wasn’t exactly in a position to give her advice, was he? He was her employer, not her lover. And after last night, he could see she was more than okay with that arrangement.
By morning, it became apparent Crickitt had told the truth about the food poisoning. She strode into the kitchen, her cheeks pink instead of pasty, her eyes bright not glassy. Guilt, with a capital G, settled on his chest. He hadn’t given her the least bit of sympathy yesterday, too wrapped up in his own feelings to even consider hers.
Now Crickitt sat at the kitchen table, picked a piece from her toasted bagel, put it into her mouth, and chewed. His palm found her knee beneath the table. Despite knowing how inappropriate it was to touch her, he was unable to stop himself.
“I owe you an apology for yesterday,” he said. “I’m sorry I was such a bear.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Wow. Thanks.”
“Wow, as in, wow, you can’t believe I admitted it? Or wow, like you knew I was being a jerk and you can’t believe I didn’t realize it until now?”
She gave the ceiling a quizzical gaze before meeting his eye. “The second one,” she said with a curt nod.
A laugh burst from his chest, surprising him. Crickitt’s full, kissable mouth spread into an even more kissable grin. She looked pleased with herself. She should be. It’d been a laughless week. Man, she was nice to have around.
He dragged his hand from her bare knee and lifted his coffee mug, his thoughts reluctantly returning to the Townsend debacle and the long meetings ahead of them this weekend.
“There’s no sense in worrying,” she said, reading him like a headline in the Sunday paper. “We’ll come up with a new logo he’ll like. One that isn’t being used by strippers.”
Whether it was her dry tone or her choice of phrasing, he didn’t know, but Shane laughed. Hard. So hard he had to pull the mug away from his mouth before he spit coffee on himself. He coughed and she thumped him on the back. His coughing turned into wheezy laughter and she joined him, laughing until tears sprang to her eyes. After, his sides hurt and Crickitt had to sop her wet face with a napkin.
“I needed that,” she said with a watery smile.
“Me, too.”
Their smiles gradually faded, and they simply watched each other, longing hanging in the air between them. Each passing second tightened his chest, the tension increasing like an arrow drawn back in its bow. The emotions spiking his belly were frightening, unfamiliar, welcome. And suddenly, Shane found himself sympathizing with her ex-husband’s attempt to win her heart. Because for the first time in his life, he was willing to draw his sword in a woman’s honor.
Crickitt was worth fighting for.
* * *
As it turned out, handling the Townsend debacle was nothing four hours locked in a war room at Gusty’s Design couldn’t handle. Henry, via video conferencing, not only approved of the new design but preferred it to the old one.
Angel closed the laptop to end the chat, blowing out a relieved breath Shane could sympathize with entirely. “Thank God,” she said. “We have a plan.”
“Finally! I need to stretch my legs,” Crickitt said, standing. She smiled down at Shane. “Join me?”
“Be right there,” he answered, aware of Angel intently watching the scene play out from the other side of the glass table. She may acquiesce to his demands at work, but he knew she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to butt into his personal life. Just like he was about to butt into hers.