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“Wait, how do you know her?” I tugged at the ribbon of fabric again, already getting sweaty from social panic.

“She’s on the agency website.” Cal considered me with a tilt of his head. His hands were in the pockets of his dark gray dress pants, and he wore a white button-down and solid black tie. “You need some help?”

“No,” I replied tersely, tugging again on the fabric before fumbling with the drawer to open it. But the fabric had wedged the damn thing closed. “What are you doing here?”

Cal pushed away from the door frame, sliding his hands out of his pockets and approaching me with measured steps and a pressed mouth that looked like it was fighting a smile. “I hadn’t heard from my wife in three days. What else would you have me do?”

The way he said “wife” made my stomach do a cartwheel. With a furtive glance around, I muttered, “Not like I’m actually your wife.”

“What was that?” Cal asked loudly, and his grin crackedacross his face as he traversed the small space and reached me. “Did you say something, sweetie?”

My entire face went July sun hot, and I gave up trying to free my shirt from the drawer to reluctantly angle a look his way. Green eyes, sweeping, dark copper hair, and a handsome smile met my look. I regretted facing him, like I’d decided to look straight into a solar eclipse and would probably go blind for my efforts. I pushed my glasses up my nose in a nervous gesture. “Stop teasing.”

Cal came to stand close to me, swirling me in the scent of coconut and sunscreen and warming the air around me. He reached for the drawer, and with one firm tug, had it open. But he didn’t step away. Instead, he brought his long, lean body a breath from mine, and with deft fingers retied the bow at my collar. “Just doing my part, Dr. Coldwell.”

I stared up at him in a stupefied trance. “Right.”

He tugged the ribbons into a neat bow, grazing my throat with his knuckles. “We had a change of plans. I wanted to run them by you.”

“Oh?” I felt a bizarre mix of relief and disappointment at the prospect that we might not be going on a date tonight after all.

Cal let his hands drop and slid them back into his pockets. “My parents got reservations at a seaside restaurant they’ve been wanting to visit for a while. But it’s in Newport.”

I let that information settle in my brain. “Oh, so it’s like two hours away?”

“Right. I got us a hotel room in case dinner runs late, but youdon’t have to use it if you don’t want to. And obviously, if that’s too far, that’s fine, too.” He watched me with quiet stillness, like he genuinely didn’t mind either way. I’d never felt less pressured by the prospect of a date in my life.

“Um,” I cleared my throat, running my fingers over the bow he’d tied. “I mean, that’s fine. I’ll just have to leave work a little early.”

Cal looked around my postage stamp-sized office. “Gosh. Whatever will your clients do without you?”

I tightened my mouth derisively. “Very droll.”

Cal chuckled, stepping away. “You’re such a nerd, Coldwell. ‘Droll,’” he mocked quietly. “Where’s your boss? I need to say hello and save your job.”

“Nope.” I darted forward, going around my desk and putting my arms out wide to block the direction of his path to the door. “Absolutely not.”

“Don’t be silly.” He scooped up both my wrists in his one hand easily, twirling me out of the way and then plastering me to his side like we were a couple on a romantic stroll. “We have to make this worth the effort, right? Let’s see. I’ll bet her office has the most windows.” Cal had one arm around my shoulders and the other pinned my wrists between my breasts as he led us out the doorway.

“Cal,” I gritted out, fighting his hold. I would have had better luck defying gravity. “She’s going to know.”

Cal clicked his tongue. “Only if you wiggle around like that. Relax, wifey. We got this.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned. He adjusted his grip on me, dropping my wrists and settling his arm around my shoulders with a relaxed, firm hold as we walked through the hallways.

“Do you need relationship lessons, Shortstop? Lesson one: Chill the fuck out.” He squeezed my shoulders pointedly.

“This is not going to go well,” I whispered harshly. “I’m not a relationship person.”

“Everyone is a relationship person; they just need the right relationship.” He bounced his eyebrows. “Just play along.”

I made a high-pitched, skeptical sound, but soon we were standing in front of the executive office, and if the size and windows didn’t give it away, the nameplate on the door certainly did. It read “Janice Kopernick, CEO” in bold black and white lettering.

The door was already open, and Janice looked up from where she stood at her ergonomic desk near the window. Today she had on brightly patterned boho pants that tinkled with beads when she moved, and her blue and purple shawl fell around her shoulders and white blouse in elegant disarray. “Dr. Coldwell, come in.”

“Thanks, er,” I gestured to Cal at my side. He rubbed my arm up and down in a soothing gesture that nearly sent my thoughts scattering in the wind. “Just… Cal came to visit, so…” I trailed off.You are so fucking awkward, Ruth. Jesus Christ.

“Hey,” Cal said with a wave of his free hand. “I’m Cal.”