Business Casual (Lovelight, #4)

by B.K. Borison

it’s just me and Charlie and a single string of globe lights at the front of the store. I watch him watching me in the open doorway. Strong shoulders. Long legs. Loose limbs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so still. “All right,” I say, tilting my head. “You can walk me home.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” I stand and shrug on my coat, one of the sleeves twisted at my wrist. “What?” I ask, struggling harder the longer he stands there watching me. He blinks once. Slow and heavy. “What, what?” “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Like what?” Like he’s just won some argument I wasn’t aware we were having. He steps forward and wraps his hand around my forearm, lifting my sleeve and untwisting it with careful fingers. My hand pokes through, and he grabs it. His hand is so much bigger than mine, my inked fingers a sharp contrast to his unmarked skin. He presses our palms together, comparing their size, his thumb tap-tapping at the side of my palm. “I’m just looking at you.” He lets my hand go with a squeeze. “Don’t get a big head over it.” He smiles, those damn lines by his eyes crinkling, and nods his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”