In Good Company: Chapter 20

This is torture.

I’ve already been struggling to fight my attraction to Lucy, and being around her all day in a bikini might be one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had.

And I never have bad ideas. I have great judgment. It’s the reason I thrive at my job and the reason I’m able to not only uphold but catapult my family’s legacy with Hastings Inc.

But inviting Lucy over was a terrible idea.

She wears a baby pink bikini that I can’t stop staring at. I’ve never been a fan of pink before, but it might now be my favorite color.

The two little pink ties at her waist.

The tiny triangles that hide parts of her I’m suddenly desperate to see.

The color her cheeks turn from the little comments I make.

I squeeze my eyes shut as she walks in front of me, deep in conversation with Camille about something. I need to look away from her.

I need to not be attracted to her.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Ryker asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

I jolt, pushing my body up in my chair and turning my attention to him. “No. Sorry, I was thinking about work. What were you saying?”

Ryker lifts a sandy-brown eyebrow at me before rolling his eyes. “By work, do you mean you were thinking about the woman who works for you?”

My jaw flexes at the way he blatantly calls me out. Apparently, my attraction to Lucy has been a little more obvious than I thought. “What were you saying again?” I press, not wanting to discuss Lucy with Ryker.

I don’t want to discuss her with anyone.

I’ve never seen the point in fighting my attraction. I haven’t had to. It’s hard to catch my attention, and every time a woman has, I haven’t had a reason to fight it. I get what I want.

But I haven’t been in a situation like I am right now. I haven’t ever been attracted to an employee of mine. It’s wrong, I understand that, but the more I deny it, the deeper the attraction gets.

Ryker laughs at my change of subject, but he lets me do it. “What I was saying is I’ve got to find a way to ditch Camille. My dad won’t let up. I already agreed to fly under the radar here over the summer. I don’t know why he’s so insistent she be a part of it.”

My eyes pull to where Camille and Lucy speak. I tell myself the only reason I’m looking over there again is because we’re talking about Camille, but that would be a lie. I want a glimpse of Lucy again.

I’ve noticed over the past few weeks that if she’s not right next to me, giving me the soft smile I’m so fond of, I miss her presence. I’m getting far too used to the way she blushes when she talks back to me or the way conversation is so easy with her.

“Camille really doesn’t seem that bad,” I offer. As much shit as I give him for being assigned a babysitter for the summer, I definitely think things could be worse for him.

Ryker scoffs dramatically. I look away from where Lucy and Camille continue to talk about something and focus on my friend. “Not that bad? She’s horrible. I have no peace. She follows me around like a damn dog. But at least dogs are cute and lovable. Camille is the complete opposite.”

I sigh before pressing the tip of my beer bottle to my lips and taking a drink. “She’s just doing her job, Ryker. And as much as it bothers you, you can’t blame her for it. You fucked up, her dad’s PR firm had to get involved, now you’re suffering the consequences.”

Ryker scrubs his hands over his face as he lets out a long groan. “She drives me fucking crazy. I won’t survive this summer if I have to spend it with her.”

I roll my eyes at his theatrics. “It isn’t that bad.”

I miss whatever he says because I notice that Lucy has moved from her conversation with Camille and is walking toward the pool house with a stack of bowls.

“One second,” I tell Ryker, standing up and heading in the same direction as Lucy.

She’s busy dumping out the remnants of the snacks in the trash can when I open the door to the pool house.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, closing the door behind me.

Lucy jumps a little as her wide eyes meet mine. “Nothing,” she answers, her tone guilty.

I take a step closer to her, trying not to think about the fact she’s wearing nothing but a bikini. “Today’s your day off,” I remind her, taking another step forward. My heart thumps erratically inside my chest at being alone in here with her, which is odd because I’ve been alone with her plenty of times. It’s just that those times, we weren’t wearing next to nothing.

Lucy sets the bowls on the small kitchenette counter and lifts her hands in the air, her palms facing me. “I’m not working. I just thought that while I had some downtime, I could clear out some of the empty snack bowls.”

I cross my arms over my chest as I come to a stop on the other side of the counter from her. My head feels fuzzy, and I’m wanting to make terrible decisions now that I’m alone with her, so I keep my distance, knowing that’s the safest choice for both of us. “That sounds an awful lot like work.”

Lucy rolls her eyes at me. It’s adorable. “Says the man who is always working.”

Her sass makes me smile. She has a point. “We’re not talking about me right now. I invited you over today as a friend, not as an employee. I don’t want to see you working.”

The word “friend” sounds odd coming out of my mouth, but I don’t know what else to call her. Friend seems like a safe word, even though the thoughts running through my mind right now are not ones I’m used to having about my friends.

“Callahan Hastings…my friend…those are words I never thought I’d say,” she jokes. She props her hip against the counter and watches me with a smile.

I stare at her for a moment. The air in this pool house feels thick. It feels small and cramped despite the open floor plan. Neither one of us speaks. Each second that passes by makes the surrounding air seem even more electrified.

What would happen if I just closed the distance between us? If I kissed her, would I regret it? I doubt it, but I keep my feet planted so I don’t risk it. I should leave, but I don’t want to. I’ve had to share her with everyone else since the charity golf event, and although I shouldn’t, I want her to myself, if only just for a few minutes.

I sigh, pulling my gaze from Lucy’s for a moment, needing a second to gather my thoughts. There’s one thing that’s been on my mind a lot. I just haven’t known if I should ask her or not. “As your friend, can I ask you a question that’s been on my mind lately?”

Lucy shifts on her feet, her fingers running up and down her arms.

Is she cold? Surely not. It feels like a furnace in here—or maybe it’s just me. Maybe my deep attraction to her is burning through my veins, making me feel far warmer than I should.

“You can ask me anything.” Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.

I know I shouldn’t, but I round the kitchen counter and stop a few feet away from her. I’m still going to keep a bit of distance and not do anything that’d make her uncomfortable, but I want to be as close to her as possible when I ask her the question that’s been plaguing my mind for weeks so I can read her every reaction.

“Why haven’t you posted a cooking video on your account? You’ve uploaded photos and recipes but still no videos, even after our last discussion about it.” I swallow, remembering the jealousy that ripped through me at the thought of her asking anyone to help her with the videos. Every time I’ve gone to her profile, I’ve braced myself to find a video of Jude or someone else on there with her.

Lucy’s eyes go wide before she turns to face the sink. With her back now to me, my stomach sinks. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked the question.

I close the distance between us. Worry sets deep in my bones that I’ve upset her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I begin, reaching out to comfort her. I let my hand drop before our skin connects.

Lucy shakes her head. The ends of her wet hair dance across her lower back with the movement. “It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask, and I guess I got embarrassed. I didn’t know you paid enough attention to my account to know.”

I grimace, realizing that my question gave away how often I’m checking her account. It’s been every day. I can’t help it. I’ve been waiting to see who she posts her first video with. I want to hear her explain her recipes and see the passion in her eyes when she does something she loves.

“Did you not like my idea?” I ask, wishing she’d turn around and look at me.

“I haven’t had the courage to ask anyone to help,” she whispers. Her voice comes out a little shaky, making me feel guilty for asking in the first place.

I run my hand over my mouth. This is probably another one of my terrible ideas. The last thing I need to do is find ways to get myself alone with her even more, but the next words come out of my mouth anyway.

“Teach me, then.”