One Good Reason (A Boston Love Story Book 3) by Julie Johnson Page A

my proximity.”
    “Get over yourself.”
    “You’re afraid, my sweet snookums, that one more minute in my presence will make you fall head over heels—”
    “If you stop talking right now and don’t say another word until we get the flash drive, I’ll go with you.”
    His lips slam shut and his eyes crinkle in an undeniable smile. He’s clearly pleased with himself.
    “Great.” I try to tug my hand from his grip, but he’s still holding tight. With a sigh of resignation, I give up and use our linked arms to gesture at the elevator. “Lead the way, man-child.”
    He squeezes my hand before we start walking.

6
The Tipping Point
    I should’ve known Parker wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for more than twenty-five seconds. We’re barely inside the elevator when he starts up again.
    “So, I know we’re going to get the flash drive, but what are your thoughts about stopping for thai food on the way?”
    My jaw clenches and I glare over at him. “Do you know the definition of silence ? Also known as quiet ? Noiseless? Mute?”
    “Would you believe it — none of those sound familiar.”
    “I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”
    He gasps dramatically and drops his voice low. “You wound me!”
    “Fatally?” I ask hopefully.
    “I’ll recover.” He grins and swings our interlocked hands in the space between us. “You know, you should be nicer to me.”
    “I don’t do things that make me want to stab my eyes out.” I bury a laugh beneath a bitchy tone. “As a general rule.”
    “You didn’t want to stab my eyes out last night.”
    He moves closer.
    I shuffle away as far as his arm will allow.
    How many more floors until we reach the fucking ground and I can put some much-needed distance between us?
    Parker’s voice goes husky. “Last night… You wanted to do something entirely different with me.”
    I swallow and ignore the burst of warmth in my stomach. “Push you off a cliff?”
    “No, not that.” He takes a stride into my space.
    I side-step until my hip presses against the elevator wall, refusing to look at him. “Run you down with my car?”
    “Nope.” He leans closer and his palm tightens against mine.
    “Set your clothes on fire?”
    “Well, maybe, but only because you want to see what I look like naked underneath them.”
    I whip my head around to snap something snarky at him and practically butt noses with the man. He’s close — dangerously close — and his eyes are locked on my mouth. Whatever I was about to say evaporates in an instant.
    “No snappy retort?” he murmurs.
    I try to summon words, but nothing comes out. He’s invaded all my senses like some kind of plague and completely disabled my ability to speak.
    His face tilts closer. “No sassy comeback?”
    I tell myself to move out of his path.
    My feet don’t seem to cooperate.
    He leans in so close I know he’s about to kiss me… And, god help me, I’m about to let him. I’m a statue, waiting for that last shred of distance to disintegrate, waiting to be consumed once more by the passion that filled my veins last night, the desire that still laces my blood like a deadly neurotoxin…
    “No witty insult?” he whispers, his mouth practically on mine.
    I lick my lips.
    And then the elevator jolts to a stop.
    There’s a chime and a metallic hum as the doors slide open, snapping me out of my daze. I pull away from Parker so fast he loses his grip on my hand and is left clutching only air as I practically race from the elevator, whirling around to glare at him as soon as there’s some distance between us.
    “You!” I bark. “Stop doing that.”
    “Doing what?” he asks innocently, a heated look in his eyes.
    “You know what.” I’m breathing hard; it takes effort to get my pulse under control.
    “I really don’t,” he says, following me into the lobby.
    It’s odd to see such a busy office hub totally empty — I guess he wasn’t kidding about sending everyone home early. I have a