But if everything was okay, then it would look like he was calling to check up on her. She was only—he glanced at the clock—fifteen minutes late now. She might have forgotten his room number and left her phone in her room, so she had to go back to get it and didn’t want to call the front desk because they might think something else was going on when really it was supposed to be a business meeting that, yeah, okay, would be awesome if it turned into something else. But he so wasn’t going to push that on her at all. In fact, he was going to be the perfect gentleman, no matter what, so he could prove to her that he was interested in more than that amazing body of hers. That thick, blonde hair that fell to her shoulders in soft waves. Or the gorgeous, sparkling blue of her eyes that reminded him of a really frosty Gatorade, the dark blue ones. His favorite flavor. That slender neck that was so sensitive she broke out in goose bumps whenever he touched her there. Or the gentle curve of her waist that he wanted to stroke his hand down until he met the curve of her firm—
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound startled him out of his mental inventory, and he jumped for the door, pausing right before he opened it so he could catch his breath and put his cool back in place.
He opened the door, and Lena stood there. She seemed nervous, her eyes looking everywhere but directly into his. She bit her lip, one hand gripping a binder so tightly it was turning white. The other had a death hold on the strap of her fanny pack, which was slung over her shoulder like a purse.
He knew how she felt. Somehow she made him feel like he had when he’d been a fifteen-year-old kid, in love for the first time. With a girl whose name completely escaped him because the only one he could think about at that moment belonged to the woman in front of him.
“Lena,” he said, happy that his voice sounded mostly normal, if somewhat deeper than usual. “I thought you’d changed your mind. Come in.” He backed up so she could enter.
She hesitated for a second, and he thought she might actually turn around and run. But instead she took a deep breath like she was diving into the deep end of the pool, stuck her cute little chin in the air, and marched past him. Once she’d cleared the threshold and made it as far as the couch, she seemed to deflate a little, relaxing as she looked around the room.
“Sorry I’m late. I wanted to tuck Tyler in, and he insisted on more songs than usual. I think he was a little anxious about sleeping away from me tonight.”
Elliot had been on his way over to her, but he froze at her words. “He’s not sleeping in your room tonight? I knew your cousin was watching him, but I thought maybe she’d go to your room. I didn’t mean for him to have to sleep somewhere else.”
She put the large binder onto the coffee table and took a seat on the edge of the couch. “No. I wasn’t sure how late we’d be at this, and I didn’t want to wake everyone to pick him up.”
“Will he be okay? I mean, if he’s anxious… Will he do all right?” The last thing in the world Elliot wanted was for Tyler to be unhappy in any way. But he was a little surprised that he was worried enough that he was completely ready to send Lena on her way in order to keep Tyler happy. They could meet up another night if the kid needed his mother.
“Oh sure, he’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “It’s sweet of you to worry about him.”
Elliot shrugged. “He’s a great kid. I have fun hanging with him. It’s nice to be myself around someone,” he said with a laugh. “He’s not nearly as scary as I thought he’d be.”
Lena laughed. “No, he’s not. Don’t worry. He loves my cousin, and she’s got a little boy about his age. They played right up until it was bedtime, and they’ll be at it again at the crack of dawn. There’s always that moment, right when it’s time to sleep, that you really want to be at home surrounded by all the things and people you love. You know?”
Elliot sat next to her, draping his arm over the back of the couch. Available for cuddling, if she chose, but safely out of range if she stayed where she was, perched on the edge.
“Definitely. I love to travel, don’t get me wrong. But there’s just something about crashing in your own bed surrounded by your own things. I never sleep very well at hotels.”
“Me, either. Something in common,” she said with a hint of teasing in her voice.
“I think we’ve got a lot more in common than that.”
She looked up at him. His eyes riveted to her mouth, and flashbacks of their kiss in the hall ricocheted around in his brain. He gripped the back of the couch in an effort to keep his hand from sliding down her back or running through her hair that she’d left loose and free. When she moved, the light coconut scent of her blonde waves drifted to him, and he closed his eyes for a second, savoring it. He wondered if she always used coconut-scented shampoo or if being on the island made her feel tropical. She’d said there was coconut oil in her bite balm, so she probably used it for other things as well. He should ask her sometime.
He took a deep breath. If they were going to get any work done at all on his presentation, he was going to have to sit on the other side of the room. She was too much of a sexy little bundle of temptation. He was damn near ready to cry because he couldn’t touch her right now.
She relaxed back, her shoulder fitting snuggly under his arm. Their bodies touched all the way down, her arm rested next to his side, and their thighs pressed together. She fit against him perfectly, like she was some long-lost puzzle piece that had been made just for him.
He moved his arm so it was draped around her shoulders more than the couch. He waited for her to tense up or move away. If anything, she snuggled closer. She’d either gotten over her nerves from the hallway, or she was totally plastered.
He wasn’t quite sure what to do. She’d brought her binder, and he really did want to work on his presentation with her. But with her cuddled up to his side, the last thing in the world he wanted to do was move. Well, that wasn’t true. He wanted to move all right. Move until he was over her, inside of her…
Elliot closed his eyes again and counted to five. Make that ten.
She patted his thigh, and electricity shot from where her hand rested on his bare skin straight to his dick. He held his breath and tried to slow the blood furiously pumping from his brain to the vicinity of his shorts.
“Should we get some work done?” she asked, giving his leg a little squeeze before pushing herself off the couch so she could settle on the floor by the coffee table.
“Sure,” he said, thanking whichever patron saint who watched over horny men that his voice sounded calm and cool. Because he was so not calm.
Lena flipped her binder open. “Ready?”
“Very.”
One eyebrow quirked up, and Elliot gave her a little half grin. That faint blush crept into her cheeks, but she didn’t look away like she usually did. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and let her gaze wander from his face to rove over the rest of his body and back up again. The sight of those teeth lightly grazing the tender flesh of her lip destroyed what little progress he’d made in controlling his baser body parts.
“Good,” she said.
That one word hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He wasn’t sure what game she was playing. But he liked it. A lot.
Before he could respond, she turned her attention back to the binder.
“Do you always have that binder with you when you travel?” he asked.
She blushed. “Always. You never know when a good idea will hit. I’d hate to have an amazing idea and then forget what it is before I can jot it down.”
“Good point.”
“Okay, so here are a few things I was thinking,” she said.