Heated Rush - Leslie Kelly [38]
She had juice and graham crackers in the kitchen of the center. Did that count as a date?
As if knowing just how far to push her, how to keep her senses heightened and her defenses down, Sean stepped away and looked around. “Ready for our little chat?”
“Here?” she yelped, startled that he had stepped away without kissing her. She wondered if he could read her disappointment.
“I’d know something about your work, wouldn’t I?”
The real Blake hadn’t known anything about Annie’s work, beyond the fact that a day care center was a great place to hit on single women. And that maybe, if he was lucky, he could both bang the owner and get a discount on his son’s care.
Not that she was about to tell him that.
“So you own this place?”
“I do. I don’t actually own the building, but have a long-term lease which allowed me to make all the renovations.”
“And you’re obviously successful.”
“I think so. Certainly more than anybody ever expected me to be.”
“What did they expect?” he asked. Walking around the room while he waited for her to answer, he examined the scrawled crayon drawings, side-by-side with colorful framed fairy-tale paintings on the wall.
“My parents were certain my degree in early childhood education was preparing me to be a wonderful mother.” Her tone could have held a mouthful of sand and not been any more dry.
“They had no idea you were taking off?”
Frustrated, Annie ran her fingers through her blond hair to smooth it. “Of course they knew. I’d been saying for years that I planned to go, to see the world, to live on my own.”
“They just didn’t believe it,” he murmured.
“Exactly. Because they also know I really do want the things they want for me—marriage, family. I just don’t want them on their terms.”
He stiffened the tiniest bit, like any determined bachelor would when confronted with terrifying words like marriage and family.
Annie took no offense. Since the moment she’d met Sean Murphy, she’d had no illusions about the kind of man she was taking home to meet the folks—a worldly one who in no way fit into her life. Not in the long term, at least.
But for this weekend—especially after their third date—all bets were off.
“Families always seem to want things on their own terms,” he admitted, almost in a whisper, as if the darkness of the place indicated a need for quiet.
Realizing that there was no normal-size chair out here for him to sit on—just little plastic ones that would never hold his weight—she said, “I need to go lock up my office. Why don’t we go talk in there.”
He followed her, taking the seat she pointed to, directly across from her desk. It was fine for her average visitor—the concerned parent checking the place out for the first time, the worker applying for a job. But it was nowhere near suitable for the big, broad man who seemed to fill up the entire office with his presence.
Sean wasn’t dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt tonight, or a ridiculously expensive-looking suit like he’d worn to dinner. Instead, he wore tailored black trousers and a tight, short-sleeved gray shirt, cut like a T-shirt but made of some shimmering fabric that said it hadn’t come out of a plastic bag marked Jockey.
And she was in the usual khaki pants and a blue, stained Baby Daze golf shirt.
Who said they didn’t look just like a matched pair?
Who cares? It’s one weekend!
“It’s obvious just by looking around that you’ve made a success of it,” he finally said as he glanced around the office, noting the framed certificates and licenses on the wall. “Your family must concede that much.”
“You’d think.”
“Well, then, we’ll just have to convince them that you’ve at least done well with your choices in men.”
That caused her to snort out loud.
He leaned back in the chair, kicking his long legs out in front of him, and crossed his big arms over his chest. “Speaking of which, what do I do for a living?”
“I didn’t say.”
He nodded, thinking about it. “How about…mechanic?” His eyes twinkled, and she remembered their first conversation.
Her head tilted back in challenge.