The next day you stood in front of the Hawkeye International building and shielded your eyes as you gazed up at it. You'd been here before with Wanda, but this was the first time visiting on your own. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and stepped through the door. After giving your eyes a minute to adjust, you made your way to the front desk to get a visitor's badge.

Once you showed your ID, the rest of the process was hassle free as you were on the permanent access list. Clint had seen to that after the third time you'd shown up with Wanda unexpectedly and they'd had to track him down to get permission for you to visit. You smiled at the memory as you clipped the badge they gave you to your clothes. Clint had gone off on an absolute tirade. It had been clear that he understood the need for security but didn't care for the process behind it much.

According to Wanda, her dad was still very much the soldier with an idea and some well-connected friends, as opposed to the typical CEO. Clint Barton had served in the special forces and had been a member of the US archery team. His brilliant mind had combined the two into a business. His company specialized in survival gear. A collapsible bow had been their first product and from there they'd just continued to grow.

You also knew that Hawkeye had collaborated with Stark Industries to create a line of prosthetics aimed at soldiers and athletes that enabled them to continue their active lifestyles with little change. That was due to Bucky Barnes, who had served with Clint and lost an arm. Wanda said he did everything with his new arm he could do with the old. Sometimes more.

Lost in your thoughts, you arrived at the top floor quickly and had to reach out a hand to stop the door of the elevator from closing on you. You shook your head and walked down the hall to Clint's office. You'd been awake half the night going over everything you knew about Clint and his company. He had to be offering you a job, right? Why else would he want to see you? Of course, if you didn't have a giant crush on the man in question, you probably wouldn't be so nervous.

His assistant Wade ran his eyes over you as you approached and gave you a tight smile when you stopped in front of his desk. "Can I help you?" It didn't matter how many times you came here, this man always acted like he'd never seen you before.

"I'm here to see Clint Barton." Of course, you are. This is his office. Get yourself together. "He's expecting me."

He blinked and kept that fake smile plastered to his face. "I am aware." He picked up his phone and pressed a button, keeping his eyes locked on you the entire time. "Boss, your guest is here. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir."

The yes, sirs continued as the office door opened. Clint looked between you and Wade with a frown. "Wade. I'm not even on the phone anymore. What the hell are you doing?"

He hung up the phone and laced his fingers together while keeping that stupid expression on his face. "Nothing, boss."

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Clint closed his eyes and shook his head. "Go to lunch, Wade."

"It's only 11:00."

"Lunch, Wilson." Clint's voice was little more than a growl.

"I think I'll just go to lunch."

You and Clint watched Wade disappear down the hall. When you turned back toward him, you found Clint fighting a grin. He stepped back and opened the door wide. "Come on in, sweetheart."

Your cheeks heated with the endearment which was stupid but you couldn't help it apparently. He closed the office door behind you and steered you to a chair with a hand on your back. His thumb rubbed lightly back and forth which only served to make your face heat more. Once you were both settled in your seats, Clint laced his hands together on his desk and looked you over.

Honestly, it had been awhile since you'd seen him for more than a few minutes at a time so you took the opportunity to look him over as well. You were used to seeing him in jeans and t-shirts or dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he seemed out of place in the suit to you. But damn did he wear it well. Realizing you'd been staring for perhaps a beat too long, you tore your gaze from him to look out the window.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "I assume you're wondering why I told Wanda to have you come see me."

"A bit, yeah. I mean I assume it has something to do with everything going on right now." You met his eyes briefly before looking down. "I wish she hadn't told you about that."

"What? Why?" He seemed genuinely confused but you still couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

You didn't answer and it wasn't long before a pair of well-dressed legs and designer shoes filled your vision as Clint came around the desk to stand in front of you. Now you were even more embarrassed than you had been before. Him crouching in front of you and placing a hand under your chin to lift your head didn't help that any. His clear blue-green eyes searched yours. "Talk to me."

It wasn't a request. You wiped a hand down the top part of your face and huffed out a breath. "It's just embarrassing."

He straightened and leaned against the front of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and you couldn't help but notice the way the fabric of his coat pulled tight across his shoulders. You bit your lip and looked away from him. "What on earth do you have to be embarrassed about? None of this is your fault."

You let out a laugh. "Try telling that to my father. He'd say this is entirely my fault."

Clint arched a brow and pursed his lips. "Yeah, well... It's probably best if we leave my opinion of your father out of the conversation."

You hummed in agreement and left it at that. "So, why did you wish to see me, Mr. Barton?"

His eyes seemed to darken as they ran over you again and his tongue darted out to trace his bottom lip. Finally, he cleared his throat. "You haven't called me anything but Clint for years." His voice was low, rough.

It was true, you hadn't. Why it slipped out now, you had no idea. Well, maybe you had a bit of one. The corner of your mouth kicked up in a grin and you hoped he didn't notice the way your cheeks heated. "It's the suit."

He glanced down in surprise as if just realizing what he was wearing. When he looked back up, he was grinning. "This is a bit different than what you usually see me in." He tilted his head. "Does it meet with your approval?"

You sucked in a breath as your eyes widened. Why would he ask you that? Why would he care what your opinion was? Your gaze ran over him of its own accord before you met his eyes again. "It's nice. Not my favorite look on you, but it holds its own."

His brows lifted. "And what exactly might your favorite look be?"

You knew the moment the words left your mouth they were a mistake. You shook your head instead of answering. "Why am I here, Clint?"

His lips twitched and he glanced down briefly. When he looked back to you, you saw a spark of something in his eye you couldn't identify. "I have a proposition for you."

You brushed aside his odd wording. "Like a job?"

"Not remotely."

Your brow furrowed. "Then what?"

He sighed. "I am about to tell you some things that I prefer you not repeat to anyone, including Wanda. Normally I'd have you sign something before we had this conversation, but I'll accept your word."

"I won't say anything," you replied with no hesitation.

"I haven't dated anyone in years," he started.

You frowned. That wasn't true at all. You'd seen some of the women he dated, compared yourself to them. Each and every one of them had been gorgeous.

Clint chuckled at your expression. "Never play poker. Your emotions are written all over your face."

You barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "All right. If you know what I'm thinking then explain."

"I had agreements with those women. Contracts."

It must have been obvious that you were confused as hell because he looked at you and sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, look... Do you remember when you and Wanda were in high school and that kid Joel found out Rumlow was your dad?"

Your lip curled in disgust automatically at the memory. "He tormented me from the day he met me and all of a sudden he wanted to date me. Asshole."

He smirked. "Exactly. Now imagine that same scenario only you are well past marriageable age and everyone knows precisely who you are and can estimate how much money you have. You know I made my fortune. I didn't grow up with money. There was a time I didn't understand the lengths people will go to get it. I was naïve about a woman once. I won't let it happen again."

By the end of his little spiel, his smile had faded entirely and his words were clipped. Whatever had happened to him must have been brutal. You wondered if Wanda even knew. If she did, she'd never mentioned anything about it. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"I recently terminated my contract with Sharon. I need a new companion and I am offering that position to you."

You blinked several times then licked your lips. You should refuse outright, but you always were too curious for your own good. "And what does that mean exactly?"

Despite the fact that he was the one offering you the position, Clint seemed slightly stunned that you hadn't just turned him down. "You accompany me to events. We go on dates. Spend time together if we choose. As far as everyone else is concerned, we are dating and I am unavailable. In return, I take care of you."

"Take care of me?"

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "I will pay for all your living expenses, including school. You would need to leave your job at the diner. School will take up enough of your time without adding a job to the mix. If you still want to work, I can find you something here so you can be off when I need you to be."

You hopped to your feet and paced the floor, glancing at him occasionally as you processed what he'd just said to you. It couldn't be that simple. "I feel like there's a catch I'm missing."

Clint shook his head. "No catch. It's a business arrangement. Nothing more."

Coming to a stop in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest. "Okay. Then why me? Is this a pity thing?"

His brow furrowed. "Pity?"

You shrugged. "I've seen the women you go out with. They're gorgeous. Sophisticated. I'm just...not. Yes, things kind of suck for me right now, but I can deal with it. I don't need your charity, Clint Barton."

He reached out and grasped your waist to pull you closer. One hand stayed settled on your hip while the other pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You ignored the tremor that ran up your spine at his touch. "First of all, you are stunning and any man would be proud to have you on his arm. Second, if any pity is involved, it would be you taking pity on me. The women I have had arrangements with in the past have all been beautiful, that's true. They've also been bitchy, shallow, and, in the case of one, just plain stupid. It would be a pleasant change to actually enjoy spending time with the person that's supposed to my girlfriend."

"So, we wouldn't be dating but would appear to be for all intents and purposes?"

"Exactly." His hand cupped the side of your neck then his thumb ran across your jawline. "We would simply be two adults that enjoy one another's company spending time together."

Your heart raced in your chest and it became slightly harder to take a deep breath. "And no sex?"

Pink dusted his cheeks even though he smirked at the question. "If it happens, it happens but it is not a requirement, no. The only place you'll find it mentioned in the contract is in the non-disclosure portion."

You licked your lips as your eyes locked on his. "And PDA?"

He nodded slightly. "We do have to be a believable couple but we're talking hand holding and the occasional kiss. We don't need to have a full make out session in public." Laughter colored his words.

Your gaze darted up to meet his. "I'm glad you find me so amusing."

Both of his hands shifted so he was cradling your face. "I'm not amused. I'm fucking thrilled you're even considering this."

And you shouldn't be. God, you should have run in the opposite direction the moment the conversation started. But now all you could think about was the warmth of his hands. Or what his lips would feel like against yours. Could you really pass up the opportunity to spend time with him? Kiss him? You sucked in a breath for fortification then leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

There was no hesitation on his part, no question lingering on those sweet, soft lips. He used his hands to tilt your head to the perfect angle and traced your bottom lip with his tongue. When you gasped, he seized the moment to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced around each other, easily finding a rhythm. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed yourself against his front. His fingers slid back to tangle themselves in your hair and hold you in place.

He grew hard against you while you grew warm in all the right places. You'd never had a kiss like this. One that you felt through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You'd imagined kissing this man dozens of times but never had your brain even come close to this. There was no way you could pass this up. Even if it wasn't real, you wanted it for however long you could hold on to it.

Finally, you pulled away, tracing your tingling lips with your tongue as you studied his expression. He looked just as dazed as you felt. "Wow."

"Wow, indeed." He kissed you again, softer and less needy this time. It lasted only a few seconds which wasn't nearly long enough in your opinion. "I guess that answers the question of chemistry."

You laughed at that and pulled away from him completely, praying your legs remained steady long enough for you to leave his office with your dignity intact. "Get me the contract, Clint. I'll read it and let you know."

You felt his eyes on you as you left his office and you glanced back just before you passed through the door. His dark gaze burned as he watched you, and the smile he graced you with was downright sinful. Damn.

This was either going to be the best decision you ever made or the worst.

****

Clint's gaze followed you until you disappeared through the door. That kiss still played in his mind. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a kiss like that with someone. Had he ever? He reached over to pick up his phone and pressed one of the speed dial buttons.

"Odinsons Attorneys at Law," a soft voice answered.

"This is Clint Barton. I need to speak to one of the brothers, please."

"Of course, sir."

Soft music played as he was placed on hold. Thor and Loki Odinson had taken over the firm built by their father decades ago. Their sister Hela was the third partner but her specialty was criminal law so Clint had rarely interacted with her. The brothers, however, handled all his personal issues and headed the legal team if his company was ever taken to court. Hawkeye International had inhouse attorneys though they mainly read forms and wrote press releases.

"Clint, what can I do for you?" The smooth voice of Loki came over the phone.

"I'm going to need another copy of the usual contract. I'll send you the pertinent details."

"Finished with Sharon already?" The brothers weren't only his attorneys, they were his friends.

"She was a bit much."

Loki hummed in what Clint assumed was agreement. "And the rest?" the attorney asked.

Clint pursed his lips in thought. The usual package wasn't quite right for you. "Get her a card, of course. No limits. Sell the current apartment. I'll need a new one near the art institute. I'll send what I'm looking for in the email."

There was a stretch of silence. "Are you certain it's wise to give her free rein on your account?"

"Believe it or not, I actually found one I trust."

"And the apartment? You've had it for years. Do you really want to sell it? Perhaps we should hold onto it. We can always obtain the new one for you as well. Rent this one out in the meantime."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I hate that apartment, Loki. Just sell it and whatever is left there. I'll send you that email. Let me know what you find ASAP, please."

He hung up without waiting for a response. His eyes found the door again as he thought of you and that kiss. That was a hell of a kiss. And you'd initiated it. He'd wondered for a long time what your lips would feel like on his and he sure as hell wasn't disappointed. Even now, he wanted more.

This was either going to be the best idea he'd ever had or the worst.