Rock Hard (Rock Kiss #2)(24)

A woman had to have some vices, and her ridiculous fantasy crush was Charlotte’s. Because that was all it was, she told herself for the hundredth time: a crush on a gorgeous man who scrambled her neurons. She refused to consider how much she liked and respected him, how fascinated she was by his brain. Going down that road would lead only to heartbreak.

No, far better to focus on his thickly muscular thighs, the lickable broadness of his chest, the strength of his forearms. Suiting action to words, she took out her phone and pulled up the image Molly had sent her, sighed. And thought about what it would be like to have him tied to her bed so she could kiss and pet him all over as much as she wanted while he called her “Ms. Baird” and gave her increasingly aroused orders in that deep voice that made her nipples go tight.

Overheated despite the crisp sea air, Charlotte walked back to the office about forty minutes after she’d left. Swinging by a convenience store on the way back, she bought a single-serve tub of chocolate macadamia ice cream for herself, then, for no reason that she could consciously articulate, a tub of boysenberry swirl for Gabriel. He didn’t like chocolate, but he always ate the fresh berries she often included as dessert when she ordered him lunch.

His office door was still closed when she arrived. Grabbing her laptop, she headed down the otherwise deserted hallway to the staff break room and put the ice creams in the freezer, then sat down at the table set beside a tall window that overlooked the sparkling cityscape. She had a good idea why Gabriel had pulled Simon Finley in, and she didn’t particularly want to be there when the man exited.

She’d just finished booking airline tickets for Gabriel’s next trip to Sydney when a shadow fell across her screen.

“You didn’t go home,” he said, opening the fridge then shutting it without taking anything out.

“I got you boysenberry ice cream.”

He opened the freezer compartment. “Shut down the laptop, Ms. Baird. It’s time for ice cream.”

Obeying, she moved the computer to the side of the table and picked up her ice cream as he grabbed spoons and took a seat across from her. His legs sprawled out on either side of her own, his big body taking over the room, but he didn’t push at her as he usually did in subtle but maddening ways.

For the first time since she’d met him, he actually looked tired.

“Finley,” she said quietly. “It was about the money, wasn’t it?”

A nod. “When did you figure it out?”

“When you asked me to pull his expenditure reports. I didn’t understand all of it, but I could tell something was off.”

“He’ll be paying it all back over the next year or he’ll be going to jail.” Jaw grim, he said, “I dislike thieves, but it’s not worth the bad press for the company if this gets out. Not now, when I’ve finally got Saxon & Archer in a viable position.”

Charlotte nodded, the two of them not speaking for the next couple of minutes. It was odd to be quiet with him when her skin thrummed in shivering awareness of his presence, but funnily enough, it wasn’t difficult.

“Here, try this.”

Looking up, she saw he was offering her a scoop of his ice cream. “No.” She blushed despite herself. “Mine’s good.”

“Be wild, Ms. Baird.” The spoon brushed her lips, and when she parted them to reply, he slipped it in, the sweetly tart flavor bursting on her tongue. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Heart in her throat, Charlotte shook her head. It had to be her imagination, but she could almost believe he was flirting with her. Idiot. A man like Gabriel Bishop didn’t flirt with mice like her, even if her best friend, Molly, was convinced otherwise. Molly, however, had been sure something was up from the start and nearly three months later, Charlotte was still single and Gabriel Bishop was still spending a fortune on red roses.

No, what he was doing was amusing himself by driving her insane. Every time she tried to see Ernest for dinner, he suddenly needed her to stay late—she swore he had radar when it came to her seeing Ernest. It was as well that Ernest was so sweet about the way she had to keep canceling or postponing their plans.

Too sweet.

Molly had been right all those weeks back when she’d pointed out that while Ernest might be someone Charlotte wanted to see as a man she could be in a relationship with, theirs was more of a friendship, nothing else. And she did occasionally want to see her friend, especially now that Ernest was actually dating a woman—and he wanted her advice on how to propose.

Charlotte was the least qualified person on the planet to offer relationship advice, but poor Ernest didn’t know any other women except his girlfriend, so Charlotte was it. That in mind, she girded her loins against the battle about to come. “I can’t work late on the fourteenth.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Ervin?”

“Ernest. And yes.” When he snorted, she’d had it. Slamming down her tub of ice cream, she glared at him. “He’s a very good friend, and since you know nothing about him, I’d appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself!”

Gabriel’s eyes—that steely gray that could almost be silver when he laughed—glinted. “You’re dating him and you still call him a friend?”

So maybe it was a teensy bit her fault he thought she was still dating Ernest. Blame her pride. Ridiculous as it was, she hadn’t been able to bear for him to think no one wanted her, especially when he was out with a different glamorous woman every time she turned around.