faded T-shirts that clung to his body like Trish wanted to.
Oh my God, I’m jealous of a piece of clothing.
“That tone of voice says there’s definitely something to know about, but okay. Nothing to know about.” Becka shook her head. “If you’re worried about doing something to screw up the account, neither Aaron nor Cameron would send you if they thought you weren’t capable. So they obviously think you can handle it.”
“I’ve been working there like two weeks. I heard Aaron say that Concord Inc. can boost Tandem Security up to the next level. If I botch this, they won’t get to that next level.” She’d already failed so many freaking times. There was absolutely nothing in her track record that should cause everyone around her to give her yet another vote of confidence.
Not everyone.
She’d bit the bullet and told her parents last night that she’d be out of the country for a while on work and they’d reacted about as well as she would have expected. Oh, her dad was supportive, if worried about his little girl out in the big world without someone to protect her. She didn’t hold it against him—he treated both his daughters like that. Her sister just never gave him cause for worry. It seemed like all Trish did was worry him, even when she tried not to.
And her mom...
She sighed. “My mother had some choice words on the subject.” Choice words that ended in tears, and demands to know what she’d done as a mother to drive Trish to cross an ocean to get away from her. It had taken two hours and a promise to visit over the weekend once she got home to calm her mother down and get her back to some semblance of normality.
“Oh.” Becka made a face. “Look, I’m hardly the authority on healthy parent-child relationships, and your mom is a nice lady, but she really needs to get a hobby that has nothing to do with her adult children. Knitting. Charity. Pole dancing classes. Doesn’t matter, but it might distract her from the whole empty nester thing she’s got going on.”
Trish stared. “You did not just list pole dancing classes alongside charity and knitting as activities my mom should try.”
“Why not?” Becka gave a wicked grin. “It’s great core work.”
“I’m going to tell Aaron you said that.”
“It’s been a couple days since I shocked him, so I’m about due for another one.”
Trish burst out laughing, and the sound drained out the anxiety that had been building since Aaron called her with instructions for the trip. She sank onto the chair across from the couch and shook her head. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“I know.” Becka shifted Summer to the other side and adjusted her clothing. “Here’s the deal—you’re not going to fuck up. Thinking you might is just going to undermine your confidence and ensure you do screw up. So do that brilliant shining thing you do and just power through it—fake it until you make it. They’ll be so relieved not to have to deal directly with Cameron, they’ll fall all over themselves to give you whatever you ask for. Aaron already negotiated a preliminary contract, so it’s just a matter of ensuring the actual contract is laid out to his specifications.”
She made it sound so easy when she put it like that. Nice and simple. Trish ran her hand over the smooth fabric of the chair. “Why is everyone so down on Cameron? He’s kind of gruff, but he’s not a total asshole like everyone says.”
Becka shrugged. “Cameron is a difficult personality. I know because it takes one to know one, though we’re different flavors.” She shifted back and sighed. “I think the real question is, why are you trying so hard not to jump to his defense?”
She shouldn’t talk about it. Positivity was Trish’s gig, and there was nothing positive about the shame she’d been carrying around since that first kiss. Maybe she could have recovered if she hadn’t dropped the towel and had him turn away in response. Maybe. Either way, it wasn’t fair to dump her issues on her brother’s baby mama and fiancée.
But under those sympathetic eyes, she found herself speaking. Trish shifted her gaze to the pattern on the rug because it was easier to spill her secrets there than to the woman across from her. “I kissed him. And after he politely—for him—told me that it wasn’t going to happen, I faked my way through being totally professional and okay with it. Right up until I forgot to set my alarm, slept in and had him show up on my doorstep. I, uh, panicked and it ended up with me naked and him once again explaining that it most definitely wasn’t going to happen.”
A muffled snort brought her head up. Trish glared. “Are you laughing at me? I’ve been rejected twice and even if he’s right about it being a bad idea to bang like bunnies, it still stings. And if he’d stop looking at me like he does, it would make it a whole lot easier to bear.” Sometimes she would turn and catch such heat in Cameron’s gaze that it was a wonder she didn’t turn into a pillar of lustful flames right there in the office. But he turned away.
Every. Single. Time.
“Oh God, you poor thing.” Becka let loose a peal of laughter that filled the room to the brim. “Like running headfirst into a brick wall, isn’t it?”
“That’s not...inaccurate.”
Becka grinned. “I’m familiar with the feeling. You’ve got freckles all over, right?”
The change in subject made her frown. “Sure. Why?”
“Tell me one thing—actually, tell me two things. How long did it take him to turn away when you dropped the towel?”
“Um...” Trish’s skin went hot at the memory. “It wasn’t instant, if that’s what you mean.”
“Mmm-hmm. And when he looks at you... Is it possible he’s retracing your freckles all over mentally?”
Now that she mentioned it, his gaze did tend to take a specific path when he thought she wasn’t looking. A very similar path to the one he’d traced in the air above her skin that day. She cleared her throat. “It’s possible.”
“That’s what I thought.” Another laugh. Becka’s smile promised all sorts of wicked things. “Have fun on your work trip, Trish. I sure as hell would in your position.”
THE FLIGHT TO London was both heaven and hell. Cameron had never had a problem feeling cramped or caged in when he flew first class. The seats there hadn’t fallen victim to the desire to cram more paying passengers into the same amount of space that the rest of the plane had. He usually didn’t have to worry about his broad shoulders crowding out the person next to him and could relax and work through however long the flight was.
That was before he sat next to Trish.
Even with the space between them, he couldn’t shake his awareness of her. Every shift where she crossed and recrossed her legs. Every time her mass of curly hair brushed his shoulder. Every breath. She fell asleep halfway through the flight and ended up slumped against him, her little body curled in the seat and her head halfway in his lap.
He loved every agonizing second
