“I don’t mean it in a negative way,” I promised. “It’s why you’re so good at your job.”
Tara smiled shyly. She looked at me with gratitude but didn’t speak. I’d never seen her at a loss for words before. It warmed me to see that I affected her, even in such a small way. I knew I should say something or at least look away, but I couldn’t bring myself to do either. My eyes were drawn to her face.
“At least I know I did one thing right,” Tara said suddenly. I blinked and cleared my throat. My head felt light.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Bringing you on,” she explained. “For a while there, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but now I know it was. You really are exactly what we need right now.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled. I was always uncomfortable when someone gave me a compliment, especially a woman as beautiful as Tara.
“No,” she said. She shook her head and stared into my eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means that you agreed to do this. Whatever your reasons were—”
“Trust me,” I interrupted. “They weren’t exactly honorable. The money was too good to pass up. With Paisley to think about, I couldn’t say no.”
“And you don’t think that’s honorable?” she scoffed. “Taking care of your daughter is incredibly honorable, Sean.”
I didn’t know what to say. My instinct was to think she was making fun of me, just trying to find a way to push my buttons, but deep down I knew that wasn’t true. The way she looked at me in that moment told me she was sincere. She truly believed I was doing the right thing, both for the company she loved and for the daughter I loved.
“Thank you,” I mumbled again. I could my feel face grow hot, and I hated myself for it. No woman had ever made me blush.
“You don’t like compliments,” Tara noted.
“Not really,” I admitted. “I’ve always found them to be either fake or manipulative.”
“Well, I can promise you I don’t ever say anything I don’t mean,” Tara said seriously. “You may not have noticed yet, but I’m a pretty straightforward person.”
“Really?” I teased. “And here I was, thinking all your threats were just jokes to lighten to the mood.”
“Threats?” She laughed. “You thought I was threatening you?”
“Weren’t you?” I asked.
She thought about it for a second before she jerked her head to the side in a casual admittance.
“I guess I was,” she said. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I wasn’t exactly making your job easy.”
“No,” she agreed. “You weren’t.”
“Sorry about that,” I said, repeating her words.
“After that performance,” she said, gesturing toward the podium. “You’re completely forgiven.”
“Good to know,” I grinned.
“Well,” she said. “I should get upstairs. You’re free to go for the day.”
“Alright,” I nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Friday,” she corrected. “Take tomorrow off. Hang out with Paisley.”
“Thanks,” I smiled. “I’ll see you Friday then.”
Tara smiled and turned toward the elevators. I didn’t move. I stood there and watched her until she disappeared into the back hallway. For some reason, I had an urge to follow her. I wanted to step onto the elevator with her, but this time, it wasn’t just a physical desire. As gorgeous as she was and as badly as I wanted her, that wasn’t what inspired my sudden urge. In that moment, all I wanted was to keep talking with her. I wanted to spend the rest of the day listening to the rise and fall of her voice. To hear her laugh just one more time would have made my entire week that much better.
Five minutes after she was gone, I finally pulled myself back to reality long enough to leave. I walked out to the parking lot where my bike waited for me. I took my time pulling my helmet on and mounting the bike. No matter how much distance I put between myself and Tara, my desire to see her again only grew stronger. I didn’t know when it happened, but my attraction to her was no longer just physical. Somehow, she’d worked her way into my heart and planted herself there. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I knew my feelings for her were real, but I had no idea what to do about it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tara
Thursday came and went in a blur of work. I did my best to avoid Zach. I answered emails. I sat in on a few meetings. I organized Sean’s photoshoot for the following day. And I spent the entire day daydreaming about Sean. By the time I went home that night, I was miserable. It was ridiculous, but I missed him. The entire day felt like a waste because I didn’t see him.
I woke up on Friday morning feeling giddy and excited. Getting to work early, I busied myself with random projects until it was time for Sean’s photoshoot. I half-ran to the elevator at nine o’clock and almost collided with the photographers when I stepped into the showroom.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I was just coming down to see if you needed anything.”
“No,” the photographer said. “We’re just about set up down here. Just waiting on Sean.”
“He should be here any—” I began.
“Minute?” a familiar voice said from behind me. My heart skipped a beat as I turned around to see Sean walking toward me. He smiled when our eyes met, and my knees went weak.
“Hey,” I said, checking my watch. “Right on time. Impressive.”
“Trying to be a model employee,” he said. “You know? Taking a leaf out of your book and all that.”
“So, you’re trying to be a goody-goody,” I said with a nod. “Not exactly the ideal image for a biker.”
“Well, that’s what wardrobe is for, right?” he teased. “To make me into something I’m not?”
“That’s a little harsh,” I said. “It’s more to make you an even better version of yourself.”
Sean laughed and said, “Nice spin. Yet another reason you’re great at your job.”
“I try.” I shrugged. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”
We walked toward the changing tent and Sean disappeared inside without a word. I expected him to complain when he saw our clothing options for the day, but he never made a sound. When he stepped out of the tent, he wore his own t-shirt under the Yates’ leather jacket. I shook my head and smiled slyly at him.
“What?” he asked. “There wasn’t a shirt this time, so I just assumed I should wear my own.”
“Not exactly,” I said. “No shirt. Just the jacket.”
“You’re kidding,” he said. He stared at me with a baffled expression, waiting for me to change my mind. I didn’t.
“You’ll still have the jacket on,” I assured him.
“What’s the point of this?” he asked. “I thought we were trying to target ‘real bikers?’ No real biker is going to want to see me without a shirt on!”
“The women will,” I said. “We aren’t just targeting men, you know? These ads are also for women, so—”
“So, I’m also a sex object,” he groaned.
“Basically,” I admitted. “Sorry, but that’s the way it is.”