“McIntire.”

She tilted her chin to look up at him. His eyebrows were arched, the stubble around his mouth a tempting sight.

“Was just thinking on my feet,” he said gently. “I wasn’t trying to corner you.”

“Yeah, no. Yes. It’s… It totally makes sense. It’s fine. And Hawaii is…fine.”

A hint of his smile returned, like he was amused at her stammering. “Hawaii is fine.”

“Totally fine.” Her brittle smile broke at the edges and she backed away from him. “Well…”

“Well.” He crossed his arms again, watching her closely.

Her forehead beaded with perspiration. Without saying another word, she turned and scuttled for her office across the hall. When she got there, she shut the door. She never shut the door, but right now, she needed to shut the door.

“Well,” she said to herself as she plunked into her chair.

That was really all there was to say.

…

Marcus watched Lily’s backside wiggle across the hall and into her office. Then he watched her shut her door and tried to remember the last time he looked across the hall and saw a panel instead of Lily’s frown of concentration while she sat at her desk.

Never.

That, as they say, was that. He’d suspected she’d show up this morning and ignore him. Get right to work. If either of them was the consummate professional, it was Lily. In this case, he was glad to be wrong. Maybe her being willing to go to Hawaii with him meant she’d reconsidered about them.

Maybe not.

Women were hard.

He faced his drawing again, deciding distraction was the best medicine. He was pretty satisfied with what he’d come up with for the salon. Of course, he’d spent the remainder of the day Saturday and all of Sunday working on it, seeing how he didn’t have a feisty, sexy redhead in his bed begging for sexual favors.

Shame.

The bright side to knuckling down all weekend, and coming in bright and early at five a.m. today was that he’d made a hell of a lot of progress. Nothing like pent-up frustration to fuel hours upon hours upon hours of work.

He should respect Lily for wanting to move forward and forget, and part of him did. The other part of him wanted to see what might come next. He’d never been so curious or intrigued by the next stage with a woman before. Even when he’d lived with Annie, the move-in had been a technicality. His lease was up, and her invitation was “You may as well.”

With Lily, one night wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy his curiosity—in bed or out. He wanted to explore whatever this was. Preferably before the RSD dinner. Them showing up with plus ones other than each other at this point would be…

Screw it. If it came to that, he’d go solo. He wasn’t going to bring a nameless chick to the dinner and flaunt her in Lily’s face. And he hoped she wouldn’t call one of her exes just to avoid showing up alone.

So all he had to do was…he didn’t know what. Killing every other guy she’d ever dated seemed extreme. Maybe he could tell her she had to be his date since she was getting half of Hawaii. He frowned. He wanted her to want to go with him. Why the hell did he want that? Getting her to comply wasn’t enough. He wanted Lily willing. Ready and willing, he thought with a lift of his brows.

“Nice.”

Marcus spun to find Clive stepping into his office, and he rerouted his thoughts away from Lily.

“Seriously,” his friend said, approaching the drafting table. “Nice work.”

Proudly, Marcus studied his drawings. “Thanks.”

“I thought these weren’t due until the fifth.”

“They aren’t. I had some time this weekend.”

Clive grunted. “Didn’t go like you wanted it to, I guess.”

But it had. And it hadn’t. Clive didn’t wait for an answer, and Marcus was grateful.

“So, before the Retail Design Dinner, Joanie would like to have you and Lily over to the house to celebrate Reginald London Superstores account.”

“Didn’t we do that at the Shot Spot?” The night he’d gotten to see Lily in a way he’d never seen her before. The night he’d made the bet that finally got her naked and underneath him.

“The Shot Spot, Joanie says, is not a proper celebration place.”

Marcus figured she had a point. “Flat beer and stale pretzels, pool and a jukebox playing seventies country hits aren’t her idea of a good time?”

Clive laughed. “Yeah. No. She is taking some French pastry class and wants to do dessert and champagne and set up the tables like some sort of patisserie.” He shook his head and plunged his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. Anyway, you have to come.”

“I do not.” An intimate evening spent with Lily in front of the friends they weren’t supposed to tell about their being together? Sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

Marcus gestured at the drawings in front of him. “I’m pretty busy with this design.”

“You’re two weeks ahead of schedule.”

“Then there’s the speech,” Marcus hedged. Not that he had to write it. It was written and rewritten. He’d cut it down, added to it, and finally arrived at something he thought he could get through without throwing up. That was the only goal at this point.

“Hey, you can’t work all the time,” Clive said, ignoring Marcus’s excuses. “Sorry, buddy, not letting you back out of this one. “Friday night, seven.”

“What if I have a date?” Marcus said in a last ditch effort to extricate himself.

“Lily’s already invited.” Clive grinned, a knowing look in his eyes.

Shit. His friend may not know what exactly happened at Willow mansion, but he knew too much already.

…

“There’s no way. I’m…I’m so behind here,” Lily threw her hands in the direction of her desk, which was covered with exactly three sheets of paper.

“Yeah,” Joanie said, disbelief lining her voice. “You look buried.” She folded her hands in front of her. “Please? I’m making croissants.”

“I’m on a low-carb diet?” Lily offered, biting her lip.

Joanie sat in the chair across from Lily’s desk. “The truth is,” she whispered, “I’m inviting Reginald, too.”

“Reginald London?” Just saying his name made her spine straighten.

Joanie nodded. “And his wife, Felicia. But don’t tell Clive. I don’t want him to be nervous.”

“Why Marcus…I mean, why us? Why do we need to be there?” Just asking “why” made her sound as uncomfortable as she felt. Normally, she’d do whatever her friend asked.

“I need buffers! Those two are intimidating. Besides, you were the designers who won this account. I want to show you off.” Joanie grinned.

Sweet, non-judgmental, clueless Joanie. How would Lily continue lying to her best friend? And who would she talk to about her confusing feelings if she couldn’t confide in Joanie? And she couldn’t. Joanie knew what happened with Emmett at Lily’s former workplace. Surely, she’d have some advice to give. And she didn’t think it’d be encouraging advice. Joanie was sweet and fun, but she was also smart and savvy. She owned this business, and her little firm had busted through a glass ceiling when Marcus won designer of the year. Lily wouldn’t risk her own reputation, but she also wouldn’t risk the reputation of her best friend’s business. Not when she and Clive had worked so hard.

“Please? Just a few hours of munching on pastries and sipping champagne.”

Lily sighed in defeat. “Can I bring anything?”

Joanie bounced up from the chair with a huge smile on her face. “Nope. Just yourself. Seven o’clock Friday, but if you want to show early you can watch me plate the food.”

“Okay.” Surely she and Marcus could coexist at a simple cocktail party.

“You’re a doll!” Joanie blew her air kisses and exited the office.

Lily sagged in her chair and tried to think about what she’d wear. Marcus would prefer a short dress, and no panties. Which meant she should probably wear her stiff pantsuit and chunky jewelry.