He stacked the papers on top of his notebook and slid them into his bag, threw his carpenter pencil in.

“She’s tired and weak but upbeat, all things considered.”

“Any idea when she might get to go home?”

“Maybe this weekend. Depends.”

“And she’s still in ICU?”

“Until tomorrow.”

“Are you in a hurry?” she asked, eyeing him as he stood there while she still sat across the table from him.

“Ready to get started on the day’s work is all.”

“Cole.” She shot out of her chair and came around the table.

He crossed his arms and leaned his butt on the table, which put him closer to eye level with her but also added a little extra space between them. Much-needed space, because her feminine fragrance filled the air, and it was nearly impossible for him not to be affected by it, not to let it take him back to holding her in his arms as they danced, close enough for her wisps of hair to tickle his cheek, her breath to flutter over his ear when she spoke.

He’d told himself he’d be back to strictly professional today, that he’d shove Saturday night aside by now, but that was turning out to be a monumental struggle.

She blew out a frustrated breath. “This is dumb.”

“What’s dumb?” As if he didn’t know.

“This. Us. Acting like we barely know each other.”

“Just keeping it professional.” Or trying.

Failing, if you counted his thoughts or his body’s reaction to her being so close.

“You’re guarded. Uptight.” Standing face-to-face with him, she reached over and squeezed both of his shoulders, as if to check how tense they were.

“Monday morning. Back to boss-employee,” he managed to say in a mostly matter-of-fact voice, even though it was turning out to be a lie. “Fake date,” he continued. “You said it yourself.”

She snapped her gaze to his, narrowed her eyes, studied him. He tried to keep his expression blank.

“It was supposed to be a fake date,” she said pensively. She pressed her lips together as she continued to size him up. “And by saying that Saturday night, I was trying to keep things straight in my head, trying to justify going against my own policy of not getting involved with anyone at work. But that made it seem like I didn’t want to be with you, huh?”

“You were keeping boundaries in place. I got that.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she shoved her hands in her back pants pockets. “That was the goal. Boundaries. But after everything that happened, those boundaries are history.”