I heaved a sigh of relief as I shimmied my second leg into my yoga pants and pulled them up. “Ah, you were supposed to text me when you were on your way.”
“I did.”
Did he? I went to pat my pocket only to realize that 1) I was wearing yoga pants, ergo no pockets. 2) None of my outfit choices had pockets at all, so I’d been without my phone for at least the past hour.
Shit.
“Sorry! I must have misplaced it somewhere. Lemme go find it!” I called, already heading up the stairs.
“That’s fine, but would you mind letting me in first?”
Ah. Yeah, that was probably the right order of business, wasn’t it?
“Sorry! Coming, coming!”
I raced to the door and opened it, stepping to the side to let Paul in. I was grateful I had the knob to hold onto because,wow,I was not prepared to see the wolf shifter in casual wear.
As if there was anythingcasualabout seeing him in a deep-blue turtleneck and tactical pants that leftnothingabout those scrumptiously thick thighs to the imagination.
Holy shit on a stick, who knew a cable knit could be so alluring?(don’t stare at his chest)
Hubba-hubba sleeper build!Wouldn’t mind biting those!
Be respectful!
The man’s lost two members of his family recently, and someone’s trying to take out more!(don’t stare at his biceps)I’m TRYING to be respectful, but I’m only a woman.
(don’t stare at his chest OR biceps)
And those are definitely some pecs.
“Are you all right?” Paul asked in that low, soft voice of his. “You look flushed.”
“Oh, I’m great, just finishing up some last-minute stuff. Shall we head out?”
“Didn’t you mention needing to grab your phone?” he murmured, his steely gray eyes looking me up and down. It didn’t feel lecherous as it would with most people who threw me the elevator gaze. If anything, it just felt like he was checking up on me, making sure I was okay. “Also, you’re not wearing shoes. Just mismatched toe socks.”
I looked down. Five rainbow-striped right tootsies and five black-and-white checkered left tootsies stared back at me. How embarrassing.
“Right. I’m gonna get right on that.”
Sometimes I felt like I’d gotten used to having the ol’ A to the D to the High Definition, and sometimes I felt like a fucking child. At least I could take comfort in the fact that the impeccably professional VanMarche didn’t appear to be judging me at all.
Just watching.
But I kindalikedthat he was always watching me.
I’d been aware of it since I’d thoroughly searched every bit of his father and brother’s murder scene, and while it was occasionally intimidating, and rarely a bit uncomfortable, mostly it was exciting.
Exciting to be truly seen? Maybe that was it. Or maybe it was because his observation almost felt like a challenge—an extra layer of surveillance for me to dupe.
Wait, no, I didn’t like that. Made me feel like I was lying to him.
You are lying to him.Shut up, brain!Just saying…
“Back in a flash.”
I hurried up the stairs, pulled on my boots, then grabbed my phone from the bathroom and my wallet from my dresser. Since I didn’t have any pockets, I tucked both into my sports bra. My cups weren’t exactly overflowing, but they were just big enough to give me the natural pockets that were femme’s consolation prize.