Awkward Encounter #1

My heart stops.

It's him. McSexy from the bar. The man who...

Oh God.

Heat floods my face as memories from last night rush back. His hands on my skin. The taste of his lips. The way he—

No. Stop it. We're at work. This is not the time or place for a pheromone-induced meltdown.

I force myself to breathe, to look at him properly. He's even more gorgeous in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the office. Tall, broad-shouldered, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes that seem to see right through me.

"What are you doing here?" The words come out sharper than I intend, edged with panic. Did I fuck a stalker in a public bathroom?

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have an appointment."

Right.

Of course he does.

Because the universe hates me.

I clear my throat, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "Right. Of course. You must be..."

I trail off, realizing I don't know his name. Last night, in the heat of the moment, names hadn't seemed important. I try to give my calendar a discreet glance, but he chuckles.

"Logan," he supplies, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "Logan Everett."

Logan. It suits him. Rough, masculine, sexy as fuck.

I stand, smoothing down my skirt with trembling hands. "Nicole d'Armand. Anti-Magic Security. You're here for a consult, aren't you?"

"Indeed." His lips quirk, and my eyes are drawn to his mouth, remembering how delightful they felt against my skin. "Nicole. It's a pleasure to meet you. Officially."

The way he says my name, like he's savoring it, makes my knees weak. I grip the edge of my desk, steadying myself as he holds a hand out to me.

Right. A handshake.

Professional.

This is my job.

I can do this.

Fuck, this is awkward.

"Likewise," I manage, proud that my voice doesn't waver and my hand doesn't tremble as I shake his. "Shall we head to the conference room?"

Logan nods, gesturing for me to lead the way. As I pass him, I catch a whiff of his scent—a heady mix of pine and something wild that makes my head spin. Doesn't smell like a city guy. Smells like someone I'd imagine is from the free plains of Montana. Or the deep isolation of Alaska.

Basically, someone who hunts. Not someone who navigates rush-hour traffic in the middle of one of the biggest cities in America.

Focus, Nicole. You're a professional. Act like it.

We walk in silence, the tension between us hot and heavy. Is it just me, or are his pheromones secreting in my direction?

My insides are doing a happy dance because he's here, even as my brain is screaming that this is insane.

Shit, what if Scott comes by? I wonder if my shower last night was enough to get Logan's scent off me. Not that I give a shit, but—well, I can only imagine the shit Scott will give me if he finds out I slept with another man. Probably try to twist it like I was sleeping with people on the side, too.

The conference room is mercifully empty when we arrive. I close the door behind us, acutely aware of how small the space suddenly feels with Logan in it.

"Please, have a seat," I say, gesturing to the chairs around the table. I move to the opposite side, putting as much distance between us as possible.

Logan sits, his movements fluid and graceful. He leans back, regarding me with intense green eyes, and I swear he seems amused at my attempt to put a little distance between us.

"Not to be rude, but…" I tap my nose, feeling my cheeks heat. "Your pheromones are radiating. Think you could reign them in?"

"They are? Shit." Logan's affable grin and mild demeanor has me wondering if I'm imagining them. "Sorry, ma'am. I'll stop." There's that slight hint of a drawl again.

But there's no way. I'm trained in pheromone detection.

"Thank you, Mr. Everett."

I open my binder, flipping through the pages to find Logan's inquiry details. The rustle of paper fills the silence between us, a welcome distraction from the tension crackling in the air.

Logan leans forward, his elbows on the table. "About that application..."

I look up, meeting those intense green eyes.

"It's all bogus."

My eyebrow arches of its own accord. "Excuse me?"

Goosebumps prickle my skin, and a chill rushes down my spine. Was I right? Is he actually some kind of stalker? Did I seriously hook up with a psycho in a bar bathroom?

Logan's lips quirk into a half-smile that does nothing to ease my nerves. "Sorry. We needed to keep this information in as few hands as possible."

I snap the binder shut, clasping my hands on top of it. My knuckles whiten with the force of my grip. "Alright, Mr. Everett. What exactly do you need? I'll make sure you're connected to the right person."

His smile widens, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I think I'm definitely connected to the right person."

Heat blooms in my belly, desire stirring despite my better judgment. Damn it. His pheromones are thick in the air. I narrow my eyes, studying him. "Are you still secreting?"

Logan chuckles, a rich sound that sends shivers through me. "My deepest apologies. It's a problem I've never had before."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. "Really? Because I'm picking up some pretty powerful signals here."

"I assure you, it's not intentional." He mirrors my posture, leaning back. "Perhaps it's just... natural chemistry."

I snort, hating how good it sounds to hear that. But right now, we aren't two strangers in a bar. He's in my workplace, and I have a job to do. "Natural chemistry. Right. Look, Mr. Everett—"

"Logan, please."

"Fine. Logan. Whatever game you're playing, I'm not interested. I take my job seriously, and I don't appreciate being jerked around."

His expression sobers. "I apologize if I've given you that impression. That wasn't my intent."

"Then what is your intent?" I lean forward, planting my elbows on the table. "Because right now, all I'm seeing is a waste of my time."