Yeah, well, that was before I realized I couldn’t be around you without getting a fucking hard-on.
Of course, he wasn’t at all sure that them being alone in his office was the right solution, either, but he felt like he couldn’t even think, and he needed a moment to clear his head.
A moment he wouldn’t get when they left the quiet of his office.
“I thought we might have a drink first,” he said. “But if you’re hungry, we can get going.”
“No! No, I’m . . . a drink would be nice. And a chance to sit down. I had a half glass with Maya, but it wasn’t nearly enough to prepare me for the world of New York bridal shops.”
“Different from Los Angeles?” he asked.
“Yes. LA is certainly intense in its own way, but vendors over there at least pretend to be chill about things.”
“No such thing as chill in Manhattan,” Seth said, walking to the left side of his office, where he kept a few bottles of wine and liquor alongside his precious espresso machine.
“Yes, I’m learning that,” Brooke said.
He glanced back in time to see her sinking into the leather couch against one wall of his office with a little sigh and rubbing her temple, and he realized that all of her talk about the stress of the afternoon wasn’t just small talk, and he had the uncomfortable urge to comfort her, even though he’d never been good at any of that.
“What can I get you?” he asked. “Martini? Wine?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she said, still rubbing her temple.
Seth poured vodka into two crystal tumblers, topping them both with tonic and a lime wedge.
She smiled in thanks as he walked over to the couch and handed her the drink. Their fingers brushed, and for a second their eyes met and held before she glanced down. Tempting as it was to sit next to her, Seth forced himself to sit in the side chair.
Not nearly close enough, but with the added benefit of being able to better see her.
Get a grip Tyler, you’re acting like a stalker.
She took a sip of the drink and then closed her eyes in gratitude. “It’s almost wrong how right this vodka tastes right now.”
“How’s the head?”
Her eyes opened and her nose scrunched. “Huh?”
“You were rubbing your temple. Headache?”
“Oh, just the beginnings of one,” she said, rolling her neck a bit. “But I think it’s on its way out rather than its way in. It feels good to sit.” Then she laughed. “You must think I’m ridiculous. A wedding planner who can’t handle an afternoon of dress shopping.”
Seth smiled. “You forget that I’ve been shopping with Maya. I’m pretty well-versed in the headache and cocktails that follow.”
She smiled back even as she shook her head. “It’s not your sister. Truly. She’s great. It’s more getting used to this city. Manhattan looks so small and orderly on a map, but it’s not, is it?”
He smiled into his drink. “Definitely not.”
“You like it here?” she asked.
“Love it,” he said without hesitation. “But, that’s not to say I don’t feel the need to get away sometimes.”
“Do you? Get away, I mean?”
“Not as often as I’d like, although I do have a vacation home on the coast of North Carolina.”
“No Hamptons beach house for you?”
“Nah. When I want to get away, I want to get all the way away. The Hamptons scene is a little too happening for me.”
“Shocking, what with you being so social and all,” she said with a wink.
Seth felt a little surge of satisfaction at the playfulness in her tone. While her words were as tart as ever, he didn’t think it was his imagination that some of the antagonism between them seemed to have faded.
Brooke reached down and surreptitiously ran a finger over the arch of that damn sexy stiletto-clad foot. Seth gave her a knowing look. “You can take them off, you know.”
“Oh gosh no,” she said, sounding horrified at the prospect.
“Ms. Baldwin, you can’t tell me those five-inch spikes are comfortable.”
“Of course they’re not,” she muttered. “But I certainly can’t take them off around someone who calls me Ms. Baldwin.”
“All right, then,” he said, his voice coming out low and gruff as he held her eyes in challenge. “You can take them off. Brooke.”
Chapter Fourteen
SINCE WHEN HAD A man suggesting she remove her very stylish, very expensive, very uncomfortable shoes become just about the biggest turn-on in her adult life?
Since now, apparently.
Because when Seth Tyler was looking at her with those ice-blue eyes, and her name—her first name—on those lips, Brooke wanted to take off a hell of a lot more than her shoes.
She bit her lip and took another sip of her drink. “I really—no, I’m fine.”
He nodded once, setting his drink on a small end table. She assumed he was going to drop the topic, but to her utter surprise, he slowly bent forward, and, slipping a hand around her calf, he pulled her leg gently forward, just enough so that he could ease the shoe off.