Best Laid Plans. Rebecca Hunter
about fun.
And she certainly did let go and have fun with Cameron. Now why the hell couldn’t she just move on and stop drooling every time he was in sight?
Still, it wasn’t his fault that she was temperamentally incapable of just having a fling. They were working together. She had to stop snapping at him.
Jackson took a deep breath. “Look, this has all been a bit much for me. We made a mistake, and there’s nothing to do about it but move on.” She gave him a smile she hoped looked confident. “I’ll be fine at dinner.”
The corners of his mouth tipped down, but he didn’t say anything.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
They headed out of the lobby and onto the street. As the warm air hit her, some of the tension eased. While New York was cold and gray in November, Sydney’s summer was just coming into full swing. They came to the street corner, and a warm, gentle breeze blew from the direction of the water.
“The restaurant’s not too far,” said Cameron. “You okay walking?”
“Of course,” she said and stepped off the curb to cross.
A large, warm arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back just as a car swerved around the corner. Her breath caught in her throat. The driver honked his horn, and Cameron gave the guy the finger. He held her against the hard muscles of his chest for an extra beat.
“Look right, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “We drive on the other side of the road down here, remember?”
Right. She had managed to make it through the previous twenty-four hours without stepping in front of a car, but with a giant distraction named Cameron Blackmore standing next to her, her brain was apparently having trouble multitasking.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. “Maybe you should lead.”
He chuckled and released her. She straightened up. Get it together, girl. She was about to meet Cameron’s team. She gave herself a little shake and tried to focus on the scenery.
Like in New York, tall glass facades mingled with older stone and brick buildings, but the Sydney streets felt cleaner. The whole city felt cleaner and brighter. It was rush hour, and a steady flow of people poured out of the offices and stores onto stone-laid sidewalks. Wow. She was actually in Australia.
Thank God she hadn’t worn heels. Even flats were pressing on her toes. “Not too far” clearly meant something entirely different in Australian. Or maybe it was the fact that she took two steps for every one of Cameron’s.
Jackson slowed when the harbor came into view.
“This is Circular Quay,” Cameron said, pointing at the ferry terminal. “We’re going to meet the team at a place out along the water.”
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