Falling for the Boss

by Jean Oram

  “Tigger!” Daphne screamed, as the tree landed, shaking the ground, followed by a rain of boughs and broken branches. Other trees shuddered and dropped torn leaves and limbs as the giant thudded to the earth.

  “Tigger!”

  “She’s okay!” called Connor, his voice strong.

  Daphne scrambled toward the sound.

  Maya pushed herself onto her back, her lungs shrieking for oxygen. She stared at the sky, unable to inhale. There was a new hole in the canopy up there, where the tree had come down. Maples reached for each other across the space, like outstretched human hands in a Michelangelo fresco.

  Breathe, body, breathe.

  Slowly, as her lungs recovered from the shock of impact, she drew in slivers of air, fighting the blackness that coated her vision. She carefully tested her limbs. She was entirely numb. Where Daphne had landed on her ribs there was an odd, vague sensation that she knew would soon become a shaft of pain, a trail of fire in its wake.

  “You okay?” Shawn’s face appeared above hers and she jolted, her lungs heaving into action. She nodded, unable to speak, gasping like a stranded fish.

  “Take it easy.” Connor knelt beside her, holding her shoulders. Tears pricked her eyes, and all she wanted was for him to hold her close so she could sob against his chest. “I think you knocked the wind out of yourself. Tigger is fine.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Then, finding her voice, Maya whispered, “Thank you.”

  Connor shrugged, struggling to shake off what she could see in his eyes. He sank to the earth, drawing a trembling hand over his mouth. Then he looked at Shawn and abruptly popped to his feet.

  “You stupid idiot! You could have killed us! What were you doing up there? Do you know anything about trees? You could have killed that little girl!”

  Maya pushed herself off the ground, pain finally catching up with her and stealing her breath. She wedged herself between the two men, pressing a hand on the chest of each as she tried to focus.

  Shawn’s body was shaking under her palm. He apologized in a fluid stream, barely pausing to breathe. “It was an accident. Man, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I had all the guide ropes in place and checked twice. No wind. I cut it right. I swear. One of the ropes—something happened.”

  “I guess no charge for taking that one down, huh?” Daphne said feebly, coming around the massive fallen tree, her daughter clinging to her like a baby monkey, one of the guide ropes dangling from her waist like a belt.

  Shawn paled and stepped away from Connor, whose fists were clenched, his neck muscles straining.

  “Don’t you double check your work? Who takes down a tree around kids?” Connor snapped.

  Shawn bent over, hands on his knees. “It went over like a tipsy bridesmaid. Oh, have mercy on me. I swear I’ll never...”

  Tigger giggled at Shawn, the severity of the situation not registering, as she slipped out of her mother’s arms. “That whole tree came down!” She snuck her hand into Connor’s, her fingers vanishing in his grip. “Thank you for saving me, Mr. MacKenzie.”

  He gave a tight nod and blinked twice, his expression changing from one of rage to something else. He gave a large exhalation and, gently releasing Tigger’s hand, pivoted to move briskly down the hill and into the cottage.

  “That was exciting,” Daphne said in a low voice. Her body was shaking and she looked as though she was fighting tears.

  “I’m not allowed to touch ropes anymore,” Tigger said sadly.

  “Is the cottage okay?” Maya asked her sister. She squeezed her fingers into a fist, fingers that still pulsed from being pressed against Connor’s muscled chest.

  “Two broken windows.” Daphne tipped her chin up as though she could keep from crying if she just got her head positioned right.

  “I’ll pay for them,” Shawn said quickly.

  Maya nodded, her mind already on other things. Namely, Connor, and what was going on in that heart and mind of his.

  Connor swiped at his dry eyes as Tigger solemnly stared up at him. He stopped the hammock from moving so it wouldn’t hit her. She looked too precious and fragile in her party dress, the lace along the edge tattered from climbing trees and chasing chipmunks. There were dirt smudges from where he’d tossed her into the underbrush as the tree came crashing down behind them, sending chunks of earth, grass and leaves flying through the air as though a bomb had gone off.

  “Do you have any sugar?” the girl asked.

  Connor tried to focus on the here and now, and the fact that everyone was safe. Tigger. Him. Even the freaked-out-looking Maya. He’d never witnessed fear so raw and stark in anyone before, and Maya had been the last person he had ever expected to see it in. He’d wanted to hold her, tell her it was okay, but he feared that kind of act would have enraged her—for making it seem as though she was weak and in need of consolation.

  “Do you?” Tigger repeated.

  “Uh, no.”

  The girl’s lips curved into a frown, her chin dimpling with disappointment. Oh, no. Don’t do that to a man. His hands were still shaking from his mad dash beneath the falling tree, saving her from what would have been certain death.

  Him. Connor MacKenzie. A broken man had just saved a life. Lord have mercy on his soul, but all he wanted to do was burst into tears. There was too much aftermath clawing its way through him and he was failing at battling it back. He was too tired to be the stoic male, and too tired to deal with more female disappointment.

  “Am I supposed to have sugar?” he asked.

  “Old men always have candy.”

  Shock set him back. “I’m not an old man!”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Prove it.”

  “You move like an old man. You’re old, and old men have candies.” Tigger’s jaw was set in a way that reminded him of Maya.

  Laughing, he shook his head, unsure how to make her see his point. “But I just saved you!” he said. “I just ran across and―” he gestured wildly “―and swooped you up! Old men can’t do that.”

  “Tigger,” scolded Daphne, coming up the veranda steps.

  Birds were chirping in the background, again. It had been eerily silent after the tree had fallen. He peered around her for Shawn’s form. She was alone, which was good. He didn’t want to see Shawn until he stopped shaking and his heart rate returned to normal. Otherwise, he might find himself behind bars for manslaughter.

  Sure, it had been an accident, but Connor couldn’t help pouring all his adrenaline-fired blame on that man’s shoulders for not seeing that the girl had removed one of his most important safeties. He’d almost killed Tigger. Almost. If Connor hadn’t been there… If he’d been a moment slower…

  He needed to stop thinking.

  Connor tried to give Daphne a reassuring smile, but the truth of Tigger’s words hurt. He bowed his head, sneaking a peek at the disappointed little girl in front of him. “Sorry, kiddo.”

  Tigger thrust out her lip in a pout that instead of making him want to give her a scolding, tore at his heart. Such an obvious tactic, and yet he couldn’t believe how well it was working on him. No wonder old men carried candies; it wasn’t for low blood sugar, it was to eliminate the chance of having their heart torn from their chests by cute kids. Especially once you had realized just how fleeting life really was.

  Daphne angled toward Connor, blocking her daughter’s view as she dropped a Werther’s Original caramel in his hand. She gave him a smile, pressing warmly as she closed his fingers around the candy. “Thank you.”

  He gave a small nod, not daring to speak. When Daphne disappeared into the cottage, he opened his palm, revealing the golden wrapper to the small girl.

  Tigger’s face lit up and she bounded over, her dress flouncing as she snagged the candy.

  “Thank you!” She gave him a quick squeeze around his neck that about guaranteed he’d need to see his chiropractor when he went back to Toronto, and said, “Told you you were o
ld!”

  “Yeah, yeah, you got me.” He swung his legs up into the hammock and set about rocking it, ready for a nap like the old man he was, as he watched Tigger shuck the wrapper and pop the candy into her cheek in a second flat, making her resemble the chipmunks she was trying to tame.

  Maya came onto the veranda, her movements revealing her pain. Whatever had happened on her side of the tree hadn’t been pretty. Her forehead wrinkled as she caught sight of the candy tucked in her niece’s cheek.

  “It’s a good thing my competitors don’t know her tactics,” Connor said. “I’d be done for within a matter of minutes.”

  Wincing, Maya flopped into the chair near the hammock, setting the old wicker creaking like an arthritic in a storm. “Sugar winds her up.” Maya bent her arms, gazing at her elbows, which were a dirty, bloody mess.

  “Aw, Maya. Look at you.” Connor sat up, taking her in. Her knees were a disaster, and her chin was scraped, as well. “Are you okay?”

  Maya’s bottom lip quivered slightly before she tucked it into her mouth, pinning it under her teeth. She gave a tight chin lift in acknowledgment.

  “Have you checked the windows?” he asked.

  “No. I came to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine.” He held out his shaking hands and laughed. “Like a rock.”

  She smiled, her face pale. He reached across the space, just about falling out the hammock as he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, letting his touch linger when she blinked back tears.

  “It’s okay, Maya.”

  “I know.” She waved at the wetness in her eyes. “This is stupid.”

  He let out a low whistle as he caught sight of the torn skin on her palms. “Look at your hands! Come on, let’s clean you up.” Connor leveraged himself out of the hammock, then paused, noting his muscles were screaming in a new way—from hard use rather than fatigue. The sprint to Tigger must have built up an incredible amount of lactic acid. He paused again, then pushed himself all the way upright, ignoring the myriad of sharp muscle pains. So, he was officially on the road to recovery. How about that.

  Maya hobbled to the screen door, trying to hide her pain. But her hips still swayed in that sweet way that made him want to pull them against his, and he smiled, remembering why he’d done all those crunches, the hike, the swim. Maybe he’d even add a few more push-ups before bed.

  Connor stood at the doorway to the bathroom, watching Maya dig through a medicine cabinet.

  “Come in,” she said. “Close the door.”

  That was an offer he was willing to accept. He shut the door behind him, amazed at how well it closed, given the cottage’s age. Connor gently directed Maya to the bench under the window, cringing at the condition of her knees.

  “Where shall I start?” He looked up and spotted the wound on the underside of her chin. He bent his head, assessing the extent of the damage. “You did a real number on yourself.”

  “Better than being hit by a tree.”

  “Any day of the week.” He sorted through the first aid items. “I think we need to clean you up for starters. Do you have a facecloth?”

  Maya pointed to a basket on a shelf to his left.

  “Apparently, I am blind.” He shot her a reassuring smile, not sure his doctoring skills would be up to par. But honestly, a chance to touch her bare legs? Only a fool would turn down the opportunity to play doctor on a woman such as Maya.

  Connor filled the sink with warm water and swished the cloth around while glancing at himself in the mirror. He might be handsome again one day if he could ditch those bags under his eyes. And maybe get that greenish bruise to go away completely.

  He turned back to Maya, kneeling in front of her. “Want an aspirin or something?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He began dabbing at her knees, finding that the dirt stuck between every tiny crease in her skin. He rinsed out the cloth and tried again, using more water, letting it run down her leg and onto another cloth.

  “Sorry,” he said when she flinched. There were a few big tears in her skin, but luckily, nothing too deep. He slowly wiped her legs with the dry cloth, cleaning her down to her toes. Such lovely, gorgeous toes.

  Maya presented her palms. “These are going to be fun.”

  “Is that a rock lodged under your skin?” He removed the tiny pebble, and lowered her hands into fresh water in the sink. “Let them soak.” He brushed the hair off her face, his moves slow and gentle. “They must be numb. You didn’t even flinch.”

  He needed to add bicep dips to his repertoire tomorrow. And another swim. Maybe both. Because he swore as he brushed against Maya his body felt stronger, tighter. And he liked it. A lot. With her back against his chest, he reached around her, helping her clean her palms. It was something she could do on her own, but she didn’t seem to mind the help. He inhaled her scent, watching as she matched his breaths, leaning back against him.

  Mmm. This was good. Innocent, yet entirely erotic.

  He slowly scooped water in his palms and ran them up her forearms, letting the warm liquid spill over her bare skin. She shivered and he moved closer, his body stretched over hers like a shadow. “You cold?” he whispered in her ear.

  She shook her head and tipped it back against his shoulder. Allowing himself to cross the line, he placed a light kiss on her neck before returning his attention to her hands, hoping she felt as tempted as he did.

  When her palms were fixed up, he gently spun her to face him, her back to the sink. He let his gaze linger on hers, then slowly lifted her arms to see her elbows. Her face pinched in pain and he stopped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My ribs hurt.”

  “Ribs?” Keeping eye contact, he tenderly lifted the hem of her shirt, asking for permission.

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Connor. You’ve seen me shirtless twice.” She whipped off her top, her breath catching with the sudden movement.

  That bra was as sexy as anything he’d ever seen in a Victoria’s Secret commercial. Its satin dipped low over her curves, pushing them up in a bounty that stirred his testosterone into a whirlwind. He blinked back the need that tore through him, fighting the temptation to play doctor in an entirely different way.

  “My ribs are lower,” she said, her tone teasing.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m analyzing your assets.” He bent close as if he was going to bite her neck, and she arched her spine, pressing into him. He reached behind her and pulled the plug from the sink, draining the murky water. Then he leaned back, eyebrow raised. Her cheeks flushed as she bowed her head to check her ribs.

  He touched her skin, sending goose bumps across her midriff as he shifted her to get a better view. “Ouch,” he said. “That’s some welt. I’ll get some ice.”

  He stepped out of the bathroom, and on the other side of the door he took a moment to compose himself. He was playing a dangerous game in there. One he wouldn’t win. One that would end in his humiliation, because even as stirred up as he was, he knew he couldn’t commit to the level their bodies surely desired.

  Not yet.

  He returned with ice wrapped in a damp tea towel, unsure whether he should apply it himself or excuse himself before he got in too deep. Maya glanced up at him, and there was something in her expression that made him drop to his knees and gently press the ice pack against her red skin. She inhaled, pushing her chest out as she curved away from the cold. He’d like to watch that move again and again. He reapplied the pack, and she placed her cool hand over his, folding herself against him as he fell back onto his heels, clutching her. Within seconds his fingers were knotting in her hair, tipping her head back to gain access to her mouth, kissing her with full force, pushing every emotion roaring through him into the kiss.

  Her fingers slipped under his shirt, lifting it away from his body and over his head. He suppressed the urge to tense his muscles so he’d seem firmer under her touch. He swooped his hands around behind her head so he could tilt her back and kiss his way acro
ss her collarbone, her fingers trailing down his chest.

  “Auntie Maya?” called a sweet voice.

  Maya tipped her head up, looking dazed, her curls a riot around her perfect, flushed face. She pressed a finger to her wet lips.

  The doorknob began to turn and Connor leaped into action, his abs screaming with the effort as he unceremoniously dumped Maya on the floor. He grabbed the knob, not allowing the door to open fully. Slipping out into the hall, he smiled at Tigger.

  “Hey, kiddo. Need the facilities?”

  “The what?”

  “Bathroom? Your aunt is just finishing up.” He pointed to the heels of his hands. “She’s going to be sore for a few days.”

  “Does she need a Band-Aid? I have some princess ones in my mommy’s purse.”

  “You know, she might like that.”

  Tigger quirked her head. “Where’s your shirt?”

  “Oh…” He ran his fingers through his hair as Maya joined them.

  “Hi, Auntie Maya.” The girl danced into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

  Connor stepped to Maya, pinning her against the wall, his lips on hers. They kissed as though it would be their last, until the sound of the toilet flushing broke their embrace. Maya dropped her feet to the floor and straightened her top. Without a word, she stepped into the living room, her hips swaying as though they held the secrets of the world.

  He was a doomed man.

  10

  Where on earth had Connor gone?

  Daphne, Shawn, and Tigger had left, and the two of them finally had the island to themselves. Maya’s work was done for the day, and she wanted to dive right back into what they’d started in the bathroom. The way he’d caressed her skin when he’d dried her legs had made her want to jump in the shower so he’d have more of her to dry off.

  Where had he gone?

  Hearing footsteps on the veranda, she hurried around the corner to catch him, scaring a nuthatch off the railing. Connor looked wiped, his black swim shorts clinging to his wet legs. Not seeing her, he trudged forward, disappearing into the cottage.