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P.S. You're Intolerable (The Harder They Fall, #3)(58)

Author:Julia Wolf

We rode the elevator to the observation deck, accompanied by the project manager and lead designer. Elliot and I separated when he went to speak with them and the head contractor, so I wandered, checking out the view.

I leaned over the clear Lucite barrier, peering down at the ground below, and my stomach dropped like a lead balloon. Backing up, I pressed my hand to my middle and took a deep breath.

A deep chuckle sent me whirling around and heat shot to my cheeks when I realized I’d been watched. A man in a hard hat, crisp button-down shirt, and charcoal pants stood behind me, his crooked grin bringing crinkles around his eyes in a flattering way.

“Heights not your thing?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine with heights. I probably shouldn’t have leaned over the edge, though.”

“Those intrusive thoughts getting to you?”

I burst out laughing. “I wasn’t tempted to jump. It was a wave of vertigo that got to me.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “If you thought I was going to jump, you probably should have tried to stop me instead of laughing.”

He walked closer, still grinning. “I was pretty sure you weren’t gonna go for it. Plus, I’d been enjoying the view too much to be a hero.”

It took me a second to understand what he meant—and he wasn’t talking about the skyline. This man meant he’d been checking out my ass.

My hands flew to my flaming cheeks. “You said the quiet part out loud, sir.”

He held his hand out. “I’m Gavin, and I’m all about saying the quiet part out loud.”

I shook his hand. “Kit. And I regularly burst into flames when I’m embarrassed, so maybe cool it with the bluntness.”

“All right, kitten. You’re too pretty to burn to ashes, so I’ll try to rein myself in, but I make no promises.”

This man was blatantly, unmistakably flirting with me, and I barely knew what to do with myself. It had been ages since anyone had come on to me. Massively pregnant, then lugging around a baby in a car seat could be quite the deterrent.

I wasn’t in the market to date, but I wasn’t opposed to being flirted with, especially now when I didn’t really love the way I looked.

“Thank you. Also, it’s just Kit, Gavinator.”

His eyes flared with amusement. “Would you believe Gavinator was my frat nickname?”

“I would absolutely believe that. Did you sneak into this building as a hazing prank?”

He smoothed a hand down his flat stomach and chuckled. “I’m so fucking flattered you believe I could still be in a frat. That was ten years ago, but I’m gonna be flying high on that all day.”

“Then I won’t tell you I was joking.”

“Good. I’d rather live in denial.” He leaned on the railing beside me, the tips of his toes touching mine. “To answer your question, no, I didn’t sneak in. My company will be taking over two floors in this building. I have an appointment to sign on the dotted line, but I’m early, so I thought I’d take myself on a tour to kill some time. What about you? Sorority prank gone wrong? Or really, really right?”

“I was never cut out for the sorority life.” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m here with my boss while he checks on some things.”

“Ah. Nice of him to let you run loose.”

“Should I be leashed?”

His brow winged. “I don’t know, would you like that?”

I pressed my lips together. “In some circumstances, sure. That could be fun, in the way waterboarding is.”

“Ah, Kit. I knew I made the right decision coming to talk to you.” He studied my face for a beat. “You’re not originally from Denver, are you?”

“How’d you guess?”

“I went to college in Pennsylvania, and I’m pretty sure I recognize a faint Philly accent.”

I covered my mouth. “No. Shoot me. I don’t have an accent. I haven’t lived there in so long.”

“It was ‘water’ that gave you away.”

I groaned. “Dammit. How will I ever have a career as a news anchor if I don’t perfect my nonregional dialect?”

He snorted a choking laugh. “I’m officially in love. Tell me you’re single.”

Oh boy. This was what I got for flirting back. A little bit of an ego boost, and now I was going to have to let him down gently.

“That’s classified information,” I quipped.

“What do I have to do to make it unclassified?”

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