had no right to ask it,” he said.
“I guess you did. There’s no easy way to say this. I think I’d built you into someone you really weren’t,” she said.
“What kind of guy?” he asked.
“The kind that looked past the outer shell of who I was and saw me as something more,” she said. He’d been someone she could debate the merits of Voltaire versus Molière. He’d been someone who understood that sometimes it was easier to be smart than to socialize. He’d been a safe haven from the other popular boys who teased her endlessly.
He cupped her face and shivers of awareness spread down her body. He had always had that effect on her senses. The first time it had happened in the advanced biology lab she’d nearly freaked out. It still shook her.
“Would it help at all to know that I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth?”
“Yeah, right. You always did have a touch of the blarney in you.” It was nice of Tad to try to reassure her. Her reservations about men had started long before she’d met Tad and continued long after she’d left Auburndale.
He shrugged and let his hand drop. “I only wish I’d had the maturity to make that moment right.”
“Well, you were responsible for my leaving town and making the life I’ve made. So maybe I should thank you.”
“I knew you went to Northwestern. Was it what you expected?” he asked.
“No,” she said. But it had definitely helped her grow up and had cemented her decision to make her career her life.
“You’ll have to tell me about it,” he said. He crossed back to the guest chair.
“Now?” she asked, walking back to her desk. She wasn’t going to tell him a thing about that time in her life or Marcus Fielding.
He shook his head. “I have to get back to work.”
“Of course. You rattled me, Tad.”
“I know,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows. “I have a feeling not many do that, Miss Top Thirty.”
“You’ve got that right. Next time we meet I’m going to be on my toes.” Or at least give the impression she was. She knew herself well enough to know that Tad was always going to knock her a little off balance.
It didn’t seem fair that the one guy who had that ability should be the only thing standing between her and the realization of her career goals.
“I’d rather you weren’t,” he said.
She smoothed her skirt and cocked her head to one side. “That’s what all the men say.”
“Do they?” he asked.
“You know they do. Guys don’t like smart women,” she said, teasing him.
“Only dumb guys don’t like smart women,” he said with a cocky grin.
She’d forgotten what it was like to spar with a man. The men she’d dated lately tended to be as career focused as she was. “You never were dumb. Though, I may have to revise my opinion.”
“Why?” He took a step toward her.
Although she realized she never should have started this, she wouldn’t back down now. “You look like a jock.”
He tucked his hands into his pockets and canted his hips to one side. Her breath caught in her chest. His pose was blatantly masculine and unexpected. He sounded like her childhood friend but there was an aura of sexuality and macho self-confidence the Tad she’d known had never used around her.
“I own a sporting goods company. I am a jock.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she said, trying to force him back into that comfortable mold he’d previously inhabited in her mind.
He raised one eyebrow at her in question and cocked his head at her.
“I’m trying to think of a way to put this delicately…”
“You don’t have to mince words with me,” he said, taking another step toward her.
She edged back stopping only when her desk blocked her retreat. “I’m just afraid that buff body of yours may have cost you a bit of the gray matter.”
“You think I’m buff, Cathy Jane?”
She blushed as she realized she did. It was never a good idea to fall into lust with your client. She cleared her throat. “Please don’t call me that.”
Taking his hands from his pockets, he ran one finger down the side of her face. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not that girl anymore,” she said.
He leaned closer to her. His minty breath brushing her face with each word he spoke. “You’re so much more than you used to be, Cathy Jane.”
Pivoting on his heel he walked out the door. CJ put her hand over her racing heart and knew she’d just met more than her match. She would have to avoid spending any time alone with him.
Saturday dawned bright and chilly. Tad left his condo and ran along the shore of Lake Michigan. CJ had been ducking his calls all week and frankly he was tired of it. He’d let her have her space but that was all about to end. He was a man of action and winning games was something he’d become accustomed to.
The rhythm of his exercise cleared his mind and soon he was analyzing Cathy Jane. He hadn’t realized she’d heard his comments to Bart all those years ago. He’d never meant for her to be hurt and he’d actually gone on to defend her. But guys like Bart never really understood women.
Tad realized he didn’t understand them either. Kylie had wanted a rich husband and Tad had worked his butt off to make his dreams of a sporting goods store come true. But Kylie hadn’t been satisfied with that. As he worked to build his business, she’d complained that she didn’t want a man who worked all the time.
What kind of a mate would CJ be? She was successful in her own right and wouldn’t need a man’s money to support her. But would she want a man to share her life?
He’d talked to his mom again this morning, casually mentioning that he’d run into Cathy Jane. His mom had asked about CJ and her sister Marnie.
“Nice girls, nice family,” his mom had said, and he knew what she’d meant. The kind of girl she wished he’d marry. He’d hung up without saying anymore to his mom about CJ. But she’d planted a seed in his head.
Would CJ be willing to marry him? They were both nearing thirty and their careers were on track.
He’d got her to agree to dinner but little else. She’d hedged and had her secretary send regrets twice. But Tad was used to hard work.
He ran his usual five miles, but altered his route so that he jogged by CJ’s building on his way home. He’d always had a photographic memory and
