Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(14)

“Lead the way,” he says, and then follows me.

The door is already open, but I step to the side to let him in, and close it behind us. Immediately, Seth fills the entire space as he takes off his coat. Despite my best intentions, my mouth runs dry at the sight of him removing such a safe piece of clothing.

“Why in the hell are you employing convicts?” he asks, not bothering with small talk. Honestly, it’s better this way. No need to pretend that we actually have anything to say to each other—at least anything that’s civil. Still, my heart pinches painfully in my chest.

“That’s none of your business,” I snap.

“One, your safety is my business, and two, since I own this place, who you employ is my business as well.”

“Here we go again. First it was the key under the rock and now it’s whom I employ. You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“As the owner I have the right to fire your ass.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You are such an *.”

“I can be,” he says in a voice that gives me pause. “Or I can be very accommodating.”

“Like selling Gardner’s to me?” I ask, wanting to get the issue out of the way.

“Not sure.”

“You can’t run it. You don’t know the difference between a spark plug and a piston.”

He just gives me a look. Yeah, I exaggerated that last accusation a lot. Okay, so I exaggerated completely.

“Okay, fine,” I huff. “But you don’t know the first thing about running a business.”

“True,” he says slowly. “But I thought you could teach me.”

“If you sell the business to me, I wouldn’t have to teach you anything and you could be on your merry way,” I say as sweetly as I can manage without throwing up.

“Where’s the fun in that, Ro?” He brushes back a strand of hair from my face. “How about this: You have less than two weeks to convince me to sell this place to you.”

I laugh. “Like you’d last two minutes in Forrestville.”

“Baby, I last a hell of a lot longer than two minutes.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” Take that, you pompous jerk.

He grins wickedly, undeterred by my insult. “Maybe I should refresh your memory.”

“I’d rather not be traumatized again.” I skirt around him, heading toward my desk. I perch on the edge and begin to swing one leg back and forth to expend some of the nervous energy that’s suddenly appeared.

A dark brow arches. “Never took you for the type to be scared of what a man can give you.” He leans against the door and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I’m not scared of what a man can give me, but I am disturbed by the thought of a boy playing hit it and quit it.”

“I never played hit it and quit it with you, Rowan.” His chiseled jaw works. “For you to insinuate otherwise doesn’t say much about either of us. Unless that’s how you roll now. Too many boys around here for you, baby?”

Anger and outrage propel me forward. I shove my finger into his chest. “Get out, you *.”

Seth doesn’t move. He stares at me with a mixture of astonishment and arrogance. Not easy to pull off, but he does it, and it bugs the hell out of me.

“Didn’t you hear me? Get. Out.” I shove my finger into his chest again, but this time he grabs my wrist, so quickly that it makes my mind whirl. His thumb moves, caressing.

Memories of our last night together, of him pinning me against a brick wall and touching me tenderly, wash over me. I want him to touch me in other places. I want him. Plain and simple. I want Seth, and I hate myself for wanting him. I hate him for making me want him when it’s obvious he still blames me for everything.

I close my eyes and breathe, trying to get a freaking grip on my emotions and my body’s response to him.

“What are you thinking, Rowan?” His voice is raspy and pained, like the words actually hurt as he says them. “Never mind. I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about what’s going to happen between us. You’re thinking about all the times I sneaked into your room and f*cked you. Or when you’d let me eat that sweet little * of yours as long as I wanted.”

Holy crap. When did he become such a dirty talker? My eyes open and I gaze up at him. My body’s on fire from his words, my nipples are hard, and I probably need to go change my panties.

“Would you like it if I did?” he rasps. “Would you like it if I sneaked into your room like I used to do?”

I would love it. What? No. Say it. Tell him to pack his crap and leave. I lick my lips, wishing he would kiss me. Wishing he would bend me over my desk and screw me senseless. “No.”

“Sweet Rowan, you are such a liar.” He touches my cheek, his dark eyes searching my face. “I’m going to ask one more time—give you one more chance to be truthful.” Or else hangs in the air between us. My knees grow weak.

“Would you like it if I f*cked you?”

I bite my lip, trying to put off the inevitable, but I know him. Seth will wait as long as it takes. He’s that patient. That drive to outlast whoever or whatever he wants to conquer. That hasn’t changed about him at all.

“Yes,” I say softly.