Read Online Shut Out (Just This Once #2) by Cee Smith - Free Book Online

made things easier on myself by not actually speaking with him, but I wanted to hear his voice. I missed it, like I missed him, and the video was a poor substitute.
    “It seems I finally got your attention,” Joel said in answering.
    “You could say that. Although, that seemed kind of the point.”
    “It was a hard one to make, but desperate times. You don’t make it easy on a guy, Blaire. I’ve never felt so…rejected before.”
    “Well there’s a first for everything. Look, I’ll meet you, but that’s it. I’m not promising you anything.”
    “Great. Where would you like to meet? We can go anywhere you want.”
    “Have you ever been to that Mexican place off Charleston? You know the one by Smith’s?”
    “No, but I know what you’re talking about.”
    “Meet me there. Tomorrow at one. This is it, Joel. If for some reason you don’t show up—”
    “I’ll be there. I promise. I’ll be there.”
    “Goodnight, Joel.”
    “Goodnight, Blaire.”
    I may have watched the video once or twice more before I went to bed that night.
     

Chapter Seven
     
    The same white Mercedes that was waiting outside my home over a week ago was now sitting in the parking lot of Ernesto’s. Ernesto’s was off the beaten path, a place not usually frequented by corporate workers with only an hour for lunch. Aside from us, only three other cars were parked just outside the restaurant. That didn’t stop me from inspecting the surrounding area. Not that I was going incognito or anything, but if anything felt off then I was definitely going to be skipping lunch.
    My fingernails tapped against the steering wheel while I second-guessed again what I was actually doing meeting Joel—out in public, no less. Finally resolving to exit the vehicle, I got out and made my way to the entrance. Just inside the door to the right was the hostess stand, with rows of tables and booths behind the woman who stood at the podium ready to seat me. A bar on the left hid a few high-top tables.
    “How many?” the young woman asked. She looked barely old enough to be out of high school.
    “Oh, I’m here meeting someone.”
    I barely got the last word out before I felt him. Joel lingered there in the archway of the bar section. After motioning to Joel, the young woman put down the menu she’d gathered and smiled at me as I made my way over to the bar.
    “I’m not drinking with you.”
    “Is it because you can’t control yourself around me or because you have to get back to work?”
    I passed him to sit at the table, where there were already two glasses of water resting. Joel’s hand found its way to my lower back, shocking me with the warmth his body always seemed to possess. This is just lunch. Joel guided me until we both took our seats, and I immediately took a sip from my glass, eager to shake off the few degrees my body temp climbed just at the sight of him.
    He wasn’t going down without a fight. That much was obvious by his choice of clothing. When we had spent that week together and even in the pictures I’d seen of Joel, he always looked super casual, very comfortable—oftentimes wearing board shorts and a tank top. He looked like a California surfer boy, except buffer. But now, the man who sat in front of me was anything but surfer boy. This was CEO extraordinaire. This was Edward Trevaunt’s son. He looked every bit the multi-millionaire he was.
    I busied my mouth, sucking back water like a warthog at a watering hole, all while drinking in the sight of the man in front of me. Joel wore a light blue and green striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up, displaying those forearms that were almost as big as my calves. A quick glance at his watch told me he was wearing the price of my Honda on his wrist. And then I remembered his tan pants and the way they hugged his thighs and the quick glimpse of his ass I’d captured before he led me to our seat. How am I supposed to make it through this meal? Especially knowing what is under all of