Off the Record (Off #3)(17)
I answer her sigh with one of my own. I’ve heard that line from her a million times. And she’s heard what I’m getting ready to say. “Mom, just let this one be, okay? Dad lost his right to worry about me when he abandoned us.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll let it go. Now you go hit the ground running and show that Linc Caldwell what you’re made of.”
After I hang up with my mom, I jump out of bed and pull on a robe. She’s made me feel infinitely better about my situation. I need to treat this like the job it’s supposed to be. It’s my personal belief that Linc will probably end up ultimately being the player I think him to be, but I won’t know until I get a chance to observe him.
I briefly think about running a brush through my hair but I could care less what I look like. I’m not trying to impress Linc. He’s the one that needs to impress me. I don’t have time to put my contacts in so I reach into my purse and put on my glasses. Might as well nerd it up all the way.
I find him in the kitchen, working a juicer. With my glasses on, I can see him much clearer which only amps up the aforementioned sex appeal. He’s wearing a pair of black workout shorts and a gray t-shirt. It’s hard not to notice how the t-shirt pulls tight across the broad expanse of his shoulders. His muscles writhe under the cotton material as he adds apples and what looks like spinach to the machine.
Gross!
“Please tell me you have coffee,” I say.
He looks over his shoulder at me briefly, and then just inclines his head to the coffee pot on the counter. “Cups are above the pot.”
I walk over to the cupboard and open it up. The cups are on the third shelf up and I stand on my tip-toes to reach one. I can just barely brush my fingertips across the edge of a cup, but only succeed in pushing it further out of my reach. Before I can even ask for help, Linc is at my back, reaching over me to grab the cup.
Involuntarily, my body goes tense from his nearness. He’s not touching me in anyway, but I can feel his entire body just inches from mine. And the prickling awareness I have of him does not bode well. I had been trying hard not to think of his insane attractiveness since I wrote the article, and now I’m suddenly hyper-aware of him.
He hands me the cup and murmurs near my ear, “Here you go, shrimp.”
The shrimp comment is his way of teasing me, but the nearness of his lips to my ear makes me shiver slightly. I mutter a grumpy thanks because I’m pissed over how my body reacts to this man. Linc doesn’t respond but goes back to his juicer. Sipping on my coffee, I watch him add more spinach and apples. When he finally has a full glass of green, slimy liquid, he picks it up and hands it to me.
“Here’s breakfast. Drink up.”
I look at the glass of juice in his hand and then back to him. “No, thanks. It looks disgusting.”
“How do you know until you try it?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Just take a sip. Quit being a baby.”
I cock an eyebrow at him skeptically but he probably can’t see it behind the frames of my glasses. He continues holding the glass out and the look on his face is challenging. “Fine.”
I take juice and sniff it. It smells just like apples and spinach. I take a small sip. “Ugh. That’s awful.”
He laughs and takes the glass from me. “I don’t like it either, but I have to drink it.” He takes a large gulp and grimaces.
“If you don’t like it, why do you drink it?”
“Because my personal trainer tells me to. And I pay him a lot of money to make sure I’m playing at peak performance.”
“So, is that my only chance at breakfast? Or do you at least have some cereal I can beg?”
“Nope. I’m going to make us egg white omelets. Will that work?”
“Sounds delicious. Can I help?”
“I’m good. You can just perch over on that stool and watch me work. I’m a master in the kitchen.”
I smile as he dramatically cracks his knuckles before pulling the ingredients out of the fridge. It’s easy to get lulled back in by his charm and I have to caution myself that he may be hamming it up a bit so that I write a great article about him. I’ll need to clean off the rose color on my glasses to make sure that I truly see the real Linc Caldwell. And if he is hamming it up, he won’t be able to keep that act up the entire six weeks. I’ll catch the truth eventually.
“You look hot in those glasses, by the way.”
My eyes snap to his, looking for a lie in there. He’s staring at me with warm honesty and my heart stutters, like a race horse’s hooves on a muddy track. “Pardon me?”
“I said you look hot in those glasses. You look sexy-smart. A killer combination.”
“Don’t f*ck around with me, Linc. I’m not falling for your lines.” I’m pissed at myself that his words affected me and I’m pissed at him for trying to affect me.
He shrugs his shoulders at me as he separates the eggs. “It’s not a line because I don’t expect anything in return. It’s the truth of what I’m thinking right now. I tend to say what’s on my mind.”
His compliment should warm me, particularly because I’m sure I look less than stellar right now. Instead, all I can think is that he probably uses similar lines on all the women he comes in contact with. Unfortunately, I tend to say what’s on my mind too.