But his words brought up bitter memories, memories of a man who wasn’t who she thought he was. Not in person, not in intentions . . . not even in name.
“Since I’m going to be practically spying on the poor guy, I need to know—what makes you think that about Neil? Why don’t you trust him?” she asked Seth, keeping her voice calm.
He picked up his drink, studied the dark cherries before taking a thoughtful sip. “I don’t know. Hunch, mostly. Everything about him is so vague. His family. His job. His past. All of his social media profiles were created at the exact same time, about a year ago.”
“Plenty of people were late to the social media game,” she said. “Including yourself.”
He gave her a curious look, and she blushed as she realized what she’d just given away.
Seth leaned toward her slightly, his smile devilish. “Why, Ms. Baldwin. Have you been researching me?”
“I research all my clients,” she answered in a clipped voice.
His smile only widened. “What is it that you wanted to know?”
She didn’t look away. “What made you tick. What your angle was.”
“My angle?”
“That first day,” she said, not breaking his gaze, “you were so reserved and yet so forward. The contradiction was puzzling, and I wanted to know what you wanted.”
“I think you know exactly what I wanted, Ms. Baldwin.” Very slowly, Seth’s hand extended toward her, his large finger gently touching her jaw. “What I still want. And perhaps more to the point . . . I think you want it, too.”
Chapter Eleven
SETH HAD PUSHED HER too hard.
Too fast.
The entire ride back to Brooke’s apartment, he kicked himself for misgauging the situation.
It was rare for Seth to make a misstep, but he’d definitely made one tonight, and Brooke was making him pay for it with the silent treatment.
The second he’d touched her and pushed her to admit she wanted him, she’d turned skittish on him and clammed up, offering only a tight little smile that didn’t come close to reaching her eyes before she abruptly changed the subject. They’d stayed at the bar long enough to finish their drinks, but the mood had been deliberately impersonal on her part as she’d rambled on about flowers and bows and canapés, in what he knew was a deliberate attempt to keep him at bay.
Which was fine.
He didn’t have time for a dalliance with anyone, much less his sister’s ditzy wedding planner.
But then she wasn’t ditzy, now was she? Behind those practiced smiles and guarded eyes, Brooke Baldwin was . . .
Well, she was a surprise.
She was a romantic, sure, but she was also deliberate in her romanticism. As though her unshakable belief in happily ever after was a conscious decision rather than a default fantasy born out of na?veté.
And even more puzzling was her admission that what she wanted—all she wanted—was someone good to love her.
The simplicity and earnestness behind her words had nearly taken his breath away, and now as she sat stiffly beside him, keeping her face pointed resolutely away from him, he wanted very much to pull her toward him and beg her to explain what she’d meant.
To figure out how to be the kind of good that she wanted.
He supposed he could find out. He could research her in the same way he was researching Neil. Find out what made her tick. What secrets she held. But he was realizing he didn’t want to find out that way. He wanted her to tell him. Wanted her to confide in him.
Why he wanted that, he didn’t know. He didn’t want a relationship. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wanted a friendship.
And yet, neither was he ready for her to get out of the car. To walk away from him with all this strange tension lingering between them.
“When will I see you again?” he blurted out.
She looked at him in surprise.
“For our deal, I mean. To discuss the wedding.”
“Oh. Right.” She dug around in her bag and pulled out her planner. “Um, Maya and I are doing an initial consultation at a couple of dress shops on Friday, but you won’t want to know about any of that, so . . .”
“Friday is perfect.”
She glanced up. “What?”
“What time is your appointment?” he asked, ignoring her surprise. The car had just pulled up outside her building, which meant he had to act fast.
“Two,” she said begrudgingly.
“And it’ll last how long?”
Her eyes narrowed. “There are a couple of shops I want to take her by, see what sort of vibe she likes. Factoring in traffic, we should be wrapped up by five or so.”
“Five. Done.”
“No, not done. I’m not seeing you on Friday.”
“You said that if I butted out of the wedding planning, you’d keep me apprised.”
“Sure, of the stuff that’s relevant to you and that has to do with Neil. Neil won’t even be there. Maya’s dress is completely irrelevant.”
“And going to be terribly expensive.”
Her mouth snapped shut, her teeth making an irritated little clicking noise. “Yes, I suppose it’s likely to be expensive, depending what she’s looking for.”