“Owen, I need the report for the Bellevue account on my desk in an hour. You’d better get back to it.”
Owen’s eyes widened for a beat at Theo’s harsh tone. “Sure thing. I’ll get right on it.” He turned to Chloe. “I’m looking forward to Monday. Theo’s given me your number; I’ll text you the time,” he said, holding his arms out wide so she knew he was going in for a hug not a handshake.
She laughed and stepped into his arms. There was solid muscle under the suit. Chloe liked what she felt. This could work.
A slapping noise behind them broke them apart. They spun around to find that Theo was dropping files onto his desk. It was a pointed—and rude—hint.
“I better run. See you soon.” Owen gave Theo a puzzled look before he left the office.
“What is wrong with you?” Chloe asked.
Theo’s eyebrows rose, looking confused. “Nothing.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “It didn’t look like nothing. You were glaring daggers at Owen the whole time he was here. Is there something wrong with him? Something you’re not telling me? Because if he’s married or in a relationship or secretly dresses in baby clothes, then why the hell are you setting me up with him?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him. I’m busy and need that report. Don’t worry, he’s a great guy.” It sounded like it pained him to say those last few words.
“Okay, well… that’s good. I’ll let you get back to work,” she said, turning to leave.
“Chloe,” Theo called.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Theo slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I hope it works out for you.”
“Thanks. I do too.” And she did. But she left his office wondering if he really felt the same.
Theo sat in his office, staring out of the window, a plethora of colored lights spilling out in front of him. He left the liquor sales report he was supposed to be working on unopened on his computer; he couldn’t concentrate because the scene from this morning kept playing over and over in his mind. The memory of Owen scanning Chloe from head to toe with a gleam of interest in his eyes stuck. The way she’d smiled back at him with hope in her eyes still burned in his chest.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
It shouldn’t bother him if they made googly eyes at each other. If things went well, they’d be doing a hell of a lot more. His hands fisted on the arms of his chair. Damn, why did the thought of them together disturb him so much?
He knew the answer. It was because he was attracted to her and trying fucking hard not to be. He could admit it now. At first, he’d blamed it on being overly protective of her because she was Ethan’s sister. But it went deeper than that. Even if he went against the no-touching-siblings rule that was never spoken about but was an oath all friends made—which at their age, really shouldn’t matter anymore—he couldn’t do anything about it. Not when she wanted a husband and children. Two things he couldn’t give any woman anymore. With any luck, her date with Owen would go well and she’d be on her way to a happy life, and he’d finally be able to get her out of his mind.
The phone in his pocket rang, breaking him away from his thoughts. Pulling it out, he groaned. The woman he needed out of his life and mind—fast, was calling. What the hell did she want? “Hey, Chloe.”
“Theo… hey. How are you? I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said overly brightly.
“Is everything okay? Why are you calling?” He hoped she wasn’t calling to ask him another favor. He wasn't sure his resolve could handle it.
As if his thoughts were prophetic, she stammered, “Oh… arhh… well… I need another favor.”
Theo tilted his head on the back of his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did he have to be right? If her request was anything like her husband-finding favor, he’d have to decline. There was only so much a man could take. “What is it?” curiosity had him asking.
“Today in your office when I was sneezing and I told you I had allergies, I-um… lied.”
“Why would you lie about that? So, youdohave a cold?” Why would she call to tell him that? Maybe she wanted to postpone the date. Or even better, cancel. Still, wouldn’t she just call Owen to rearrange?
“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s more like a…problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
After a moment of silence, she said, “Well, the sneezing is a reaction I have when I’m nervous.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t understand.” Who sneezed when they got nervous?
“Umm… when a situation comes up that makes me nervous, I sometimes sneeze.”