Change in Strategy: An Office Romance (Change of Hearts Book 2)

Home > Other > Change in Strategy: An Office Romance (Change of Hearts Book 2) > Page 6
Change in Strategy: An Office Romance (Change of Hearts Book 2) Page 6

by Sierra Hill


  Our current seating arrangement is far too intimate for a boss and his employee, but right now, I relish in the way it feels to be tucked up against his warm, bare chest. There is no mistaking the hard ridge of his dick underneath the thin nylon hiking shorts. I shift on his lap, which produces a cough from his chest.

  I move off his lap and down to the small patch of grass before turning to look up into his face. I notice his eyes are locked on my lips, as if remembering what it was like to kiss them. How it felt when our mouths were joined, as we sucked and nibbled each other with both gentle and frantic pace.

  Does he remember that or is it just me and my imagination?

  Brody clears his throat and his gaze moves to his dog who is wedged between us, his big snout replacing my head on Brody’s lap.

  “Are you okay with him like this? If not, I can have him move. He just has a natural instinct to administer support when it’s needed.”

  Bracing with a palm on the ground to prop myself up, I smile and pet the soft fur on top of the dog’s head as he shifts and nuzzles against my leg.

  “He’s an adorable dog. What’s his name?” I know he said it earlier when giving the dog a command, but I was in such disarray that I don’t recall.

  “His name is Boss. Because he is the boss of me. Aren’t you buddy?”

  I think my insides flail and float at the sweetness of their exchange, as both Brody and Boss stare at each other with what can only be described as pure love. There’s an obvious bond between man and dog, and it fills my heart with the feeling of ten thousand butterflies flapping in flight before landing gracefully in sync.

  “Boss is a pretty badass name for a dog. Especially for one his size.” I rub behind one of his ears and he lets out a long, satisfied groan. “You’re a pretty handsome boy. I’ve never had a dog. Well, my stepdad had one for a while when I was a kid, but he ran away. Or at least, that’s what they told me. How long have you had Boss?”

  I turn to the side and glance over my shoulder at Brody, whose face is just inches from mine in our position on the ground. Up this close and personal, and from this proximity, I can see a small scar the size of a dime, underneath his chin and I want to know all the whys and how’s and the story behind them.

  He bends his torso over the dog and touches my shin, just above the wound. The contact makes me flinch. But only because it feels incredible – not because it’s painful. The second we connect, he jerks his hand back, as if suddenly remembering who I am.

  I’m his intern and untouchable.

  But that doesn’t stop the sound of the wisp of air I hear as it leaves his lungs.

  “I picked out Boss from a litter of six puppies two years ago. And ever since, he’s been my –constant companion and best buddy.”

  The dog, as if knowing what Brody means, barks once in agreement and I laugh, grinning at the sweet exchange.

  “Does he ever come into the office with you? I’ve seen a few other dogs in the office this week, which I assume means it’s a dog-friendly work environment.”

  I met Gerilyn from Accounts Receivable who had a tiny lap dog named Fredo and a guy from Shipping & Receiving whose name I can’t remember, but who had a lab mix named Reddy.

  Brody shakes his head but grins. “I don’t, not often. Let’s just say his coat can make it snow indoors, if you know what I mean. Not great when you run a clothing design company to have white fur all over the fabric and merchandise. But I do allow the staff to bring in their pets, as long as they are contained and have good manners.”

  I snort at this. “Good point about the hair, though. He is a bit hairy. But he must get awfully lonely at home when you’re working such long hours or have to travel.”

  “Nah,” he mutters, recapping the bottle of water and sliding it in his pack. “He’s a chill guy and sleeps most the day. Some days I take him to doggy daycare, but he likes to be at home. Speaking of which, we should probably…”

  “Oh geez. Of course. You obviously have other things you need to do today other than babysit my clumsy ass.”

  Brody places a palm on my lower backside, as we stand up in tandem. The minute we’re on our feet, his hands move to my waist to support me and keep me from pitching forward. Once I regain my balance, I place my foot down to take a step forward.

  “Shit,” I swear, immediately pulling my leg back up and hopping on my good leg.

  Pain rips through me and I grit my teeth in agony to keep myself from shouting out any more unladylike curses in front of my new boss. I stumble in an awkward dance, grabbing underneath my knee to keep my leg off the ground.

  One minute I’m jumping around like an idiot, and the next I’m being cradled like a baby in Brody’s cut biceps, as he begins to carry me down the trailhead in which we came up.

  And all I can think about the entire way back down is how am I ever going to live with the memory of Brody’ solid, manly arms holding me tight as he whisks me away with the strength of a Superhero.

  The answer to that?

  I’ll never forget it as long as I live.

  Chapter 10

  Brody

  Peyton doesn’t stop complaining the entire way back to the trailhead, constantly concerned that she’s too heavy or that I’ll throw out my back or overexert myself. The woman weighs next to nothing and is as slight as they come.

  “Peyton, with all due respect, will you shut the hell up already? I’m fine and you’re light as a feather. Just hang on so you don’t fall. You seem to make a habit of that.”

  She opens her mouth to retort in outrage but snaps it closed again when I glare at her. She uses her fingers to make an animated zipper gesture over her lips, seemingly acquiescing, which brings a grin to my mouth. This woman is as obstinate as they come. I’ve now seen her exude inexperience and innocence in a sexual context, her creativity and flare for design in the workplace, and now her flash of a stubborn streak when she’s faced with being pushed to her limits. It makes for a deadly recipe in a woman but a terrific asset for her future career in business.

  I hike her up in my arms and encourage her to wrap her hand around my neck, her body balanced in my hold as I trudge down the mountain path, Boss lumbering behind us along the rocky pathway.

  This is definitely the oddest encounter I think I’ve ever had with any employee outside the workplace. In fact, everything about our interactions can be classified as highly unusual and completely unconventional. From the moment we met just over a week ago, when she left me high and dry with an erection as hard as a math problem, she’s occupied my every waking moment.

  And to make matters worse, she ends up being my newest employee. An intern who is completely off limits, but one that pushes those limits in every way possible. I’ve never quite experienced this weird set of emotions and contradictions before meeting Peyton.

  My fingers tingle at every point of contact I have with her body. Her skin is flushed and warm against me, and it makes me imagine if she’s just as hot between her legs.

  Fuck, I need to stop thinking like this.

  My strides increase in speed in an unconscious effort to reach the bottom of the canyon as quickly as possible, but in doing so, I stumble a little as we both wobble and her fingers grasp the nape of my neck tighter.

  “Are you okay? I’m so sorry I’m putting you through this.”

  I give her a stern look. “Shush. I’m fine.”

  My words come out choppy, but not from exertion or because she’s heavy or that carrying her is difficult. It’s only for the sheer fact that having Peyton’s body this close to mine fills me with an insatiable amount of lust and drives a dark desire down to my aching cock. And that makes for a very uncomfortable situation below my waist.

  “I am so embarrassed and humiliated that you found me this way. I hope you can forget that all of this happened before we return to work on Monday.”

  My response is a result of too much testosterone running through my veins. It’s sharp and aggressive. “You mean like
how I forgot about that kiss last weekend?”

  She goes still in my arms and I lower my head to see what her expression is and if I affect her as much as she does me.

  “That’s right, Peyton. I haven’t forgotten any of it. Not your taste, or your scent or the fucking sound – that tiny breathy gasp – you made when I kissed you.”

  Peyton lifts her eyes to me, the bill of her cap shadowing most of her face, but not her cheeks which flush a pretty pink color, the blush even coloring the tips of her ears. She sucks her full bottom lip between her teeth, and I notice that she’s missing the bright red lipstick I’ve seen her wear before. Today they are a natural gloss and she smells like fresh cucumber. Light, crisp and mouth-wateringly fragrant. And I want nothing more than to set her down and kiss the ever-loving-fuck out of her.

  Something spikes in my blood born out of adrenaline and protectiveness, and frustration because I know that nothing can ever happen again between us. Not now or ever.

  I change the topic quickly, transforming my sexual angst into ire over our situation.

  “Peyton, if I hadn’t been here, what would you have done? You were reckless coming out here alone. Did anyone even know where you were in the event something like this occurred? Jesus Christ, you need to be more careful.”

  She bristles at my reprimand. “I’m quite capable of calling for help if I need it. I’m not some dumb, incompetent girl waiting on a rescue. I would’ve figured it out.”

  “I’m sure you would’ve eventually. But the sun sets fast in the canyons and you could’ve been stuck here overnight. Jesus, I shudder to think what would have…“ I can’t finish that statement. “Just please, if you go on any more hiking adventures, ask someone to come along with you.”

  “Gee dad, thanks. I would if I knew anyone in L.A.,” she retorts with a sassy side eyed glance. “But I may have mentioned I’m not from around here and I don’t know anyone yet. At least not people I could invite.”

  Shit, that’s right. She’s not local. I forgot about that piece of information.

  “You can invite me.” Fucking hell, why did I say that?

  “And Boss,” I amend, continuing our pace down the hill.

  Her grip tightens, the light brush of her fingers and scrape of her fingernails shooting a thrill down my spine and then shrugs.

  “That would be weird, don’t you think?”

  “Fair point,” I concede, still irritated with everything. “Maybe use the Fun Board at work in the break room to find a hiking partner while you’re here. You return to school in September for your final semester, right?”

  She hesitates before answering. “Yeah. I’m a little behind. I should’ve graduated this spring, but last year…I had to take a semester off to take care of a family member.”

  The way her voice dips into a near whisper suggests this might be a sensitive subject, so I tread carefully with my response.

  “That was good of you to be there for them. That’s a heavy responsibility to take on. It must be someone close to you for you to rearrange your life to be their caretaker.”

  Peyton’s quiet for a moment, as if considering whether to share her story with me. Whether I’m worthy enough to let me in on her personal life. She nibbles the inside of her lip again, my lids lowering to watch her covertly.

  Finally, she offers a quiet explanation. “It was my mom. She was hospitalized after an accident and needed my help to recover. But she’s doing so much better now.”

  Reading between the lines, I get the sense she’s leaving something out, but I won’t pry. If she doesn’t want me to know the details, that’s her right. Maybe at some point she’ll feel comfortable opening up. Or maybe not.

  I’m her boss, for fuck’s sake. Why in the world would she be compelled to share anything about her personal life with me? She owes me nothing except the work she produces in the workplace. Nothing more. And I can’t expect any more than that.

  We’ve made it back down to the bottom of the trail and I reluctantly place her down next to a bench where she takes a seat. A reluctance to let her go unfurls inside my chest, as I kneel down in front of her to inspect her leg. I slip a palm around the back of her kneecap and raise her leg gently, placing the heel of her hiking boot on my thigh so I can examine the area.

  “It looks like it’s stopped bleeding, but you might need stitches.”

  Peyton leans forward and unties the makeshift bandage, gingerly unwrapping and uncovering the wound. It looks nasty, caked on blood and mangled flesh.

  “Are you going to be alright on your own? Would you like me to take you to an Urgent Care?”

  “Brody, you’ve seriously done enough already. Thank you. I’ll be fine. I’ll get home and clean it out and put some ointment on it.” She stares down at the bloody shirt in her hands and frowns, her tone filled with remorse. “God, I’m sorry I ruined your shirt. I promise to buy you a replacement as soon as I get my first paycheck. Or, you can just deduct it right from my pay.”

  “Peyton, you might not know this, but I own a men’s clothing company. I think I have a pretty good idea where I can find a new shirt.”

  The sweet sound of her laughter is a good sign that she’ll let that ridiculous thought go. Peyton places a small hand on my bicep.

  “Thank you for everything, Brody. I’m not sure how I can repay you for your help. Although I’m fairly certain I would’ve been perfectly fine figuring it out on my own. But I promise you the next time I go hiking, I’ll be more careful.”

  I point a finger and wiggle it at her. “And you’ll be safe and ask someone to go with you.”

  She just lifts her shoulder in another noncommittal shrug.

  “You know,” I say, realizing immediately that it’s a piss poor idea, but unable to stop myself from suggesting it. “I take Boss on a hike every Saturday. You’re welcome to join us any time you’d like. There are a ton of great spots up in the canyons.”

  “That sounds…” I wait for her to shoot it down because it’s a bad idea. But she doesn’t. “Fun. I’ll think about it.”

  An eager hum whirs inside my chest, crackling with electricity, making me feel like I’m a live wire at the slight chance this will happen again.

  “In the meantime, let’s get you to your car and on your way home.”

  I reach for her hand to help her up and the touch zaps me in my sternum like an MMA fighter just punched me in the throat. My eyes zero in on hers, her blue gaze wide with alarm, meaning she felt it too.

  Dangerous thoughts race through my head and I intentionally shake them off.

  No. This will not happen between us. I’m just being friendly and helping my new intern get acquainted with Los Angeles.

  I am not crossing that line like my father did in the past.

  I am not that kind of man and I do not take advantage of young women.

  That’s his M.O., not mine.

  Chapter 11

  Peyton

  When we make it to my car at the bottom of the paved parking lot, things grow even more awkward.

  After being held in his arms for the entire descent down the canyon, this new distance between us feels unbearable. I want the return of the warmth of his skin on mine, slathered on me like oil in the sun. I already miss the manly scent of his perspiration mingled with spicy aftershave in every breath I take.

  It’s ridiculously stupid to think Brody was being such a chivalrous gentleman for any other reason than he’s just kind. I’m sure he would have done the same for anyone else. I just happen to be the one who fell and cut her leg open, and the one lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time for Brody’s heroic intervention.

  “This is me,” I say, pointing to the red two-door hatchback parked in between a Tesla and a BMW. My old, beat-up Honda looks like a relic next to the expensive luxury cars probably owned by some Hollywood executives.

  I unlock and open the door, yanking on the handle harder than necessary because it sticks five out of six times. The door hi
nge squawks and groans loudly like a creaking noise in a horror movie soundtrack.

  Brody and Boss hover behind me, Boss moving in to nudge my thigh with his nose and I bend down to scratch him behind his ears.

  “It was good to meet you, Boss, even under the circumstances.” My eyes remain on the dog, head down so the bill of my cap covers the flush on my cheeks, still hot with humiliation over this encounter.

  “You’ll make a friend for life if you continue to do that, but you may never be able to leave,” Brody jokes with a light-hearted chuckle.

  I lift my head, chancing a look at my handsome boss and see the laugh line creases around his mouth, as I zero in on his perfect lips and smile.

  “I love dogs but until I’m done with school and have a fulltime job, I’ll have to wait. My mom always complained that dogs took too much time and money.”

  Brody’s hand lands on the dog’s rump, so now Boss is getting massaged on both ends, which makes him wiggle with excitement.

  “Well, your mom was right. They do take a lot of money and time, but I love having him to come home to. Nothing worse than coming home to an empty house.”

  “I know what you mean,” I agree, loving the feel of Boss’s soft white coat sifting through my fingers. It’s soothing and feels nice to give that pleasure. I wonder what it would feel like to give a guy pleasure with my fingers. Specifically, Brody.

  “This is the first time I’ve had an apartment all to myself. Now that you mention it, it is kind of sad coming home to an empty apartment.” I give him a dramatic frown.

  Brody turns to me with an odd look across his face, his eyes squinting at me in question.

  “This might be a bit presumptuous of me, and probably way out of line, so feel free to say no. But I hate that you’re all alone out here. Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I’m not a great cook, but I’ve earned a very high customer reputation from ordering through Door Dash.”

  His invitation and the sweet, hopeful look in his expression makes me want to accept without hesitation. But I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place, uncertainty weighing heavily on whether I should accept or decline the invitation.

 

‹ Prev