His Curvy Boss: Biker Brothers of Winter Town - Book Two

by King, Sadie

  His Curvy Boss

  Biker Brothers of Winter Town - Book Two

  Sadie King

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  William

  When I escape for some air before the most important business call of my life, I don’t expect to find a woman dancing barefoot in my Zen Garden.

  The last two years of my life have been spent working toward this business deal. But now, all I can think about is her.

  Ariel

  Dad’s drinking is getting worse, and it’s starting to lose him clients. So I step in and take over the gardening business. But who knew our most profitable client was such a silver fox?

  He’s older than me, confident and handsome. The kind of man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to take it. And I think what he wants is me…

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  Copyright © 2020 by Sadie King.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover designed by Designrans.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, companies, locales or persons living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  www.authorsadieking.com

  His Curvy Boss

  Joe

  I’ve been working at Ballyholme Furnishings for ten years; I know the company like the back of my hand. So when I get passed over for a promotion, I’m fuming.

  Then I meet my new boss. She’s gorgeous, smart, confident, and an older woman. Will she think I’m an immature, bumbling fool, or can I win over my curvy new boss?

  Madison

  I need a fresh start and taking a job in a new town proves the perfect escape. But with a sleazy CEO and a dark secret, I’m not sure how long I can stay.

  But the hot, young sales star on his motorbike makes me want to stick around. I know I shouldn’t. I’m his boss and he’s younger than me, but I’m irresistibly drawn to him. If only the past doesn’t catch up with me first.

  His Curvy Boss is a small-town office romance featuring an alpha male biker and an older woman.

  Book Two in the Biker Brothers of Winter Town series. Short, sweet tales of men who ride and the curvy women who claim their hearts.

  Each book in the series is a stand-alone. No cliffhangers.

  Contents

  1. Madison

  2. Joe

  3. Madison

  4. Joe

  5. Madison

  6. Madison

  7. Joe

  Epilogue

  Get your insta-love fix!

  1

  Madison

  “You got this, Madison,” I mutter under my breath as I pull into the parking lot.

  “Ballyholme Furnishings” is emblazoned in red lettering on the side of the building.

  It’s crammed with cars already, and it takes me a while to find a parking spot. I check my phone. I’m still twenty minutes early. Enough time to get another coffee. I grab my flask and my bag and get out of the car.

  I’m on an industrial estate with light factories and run-down-looking office buildings. I’m wondering where I can find a decent coffee when the roar of a motorbike makes me jump. I drop my flask and the lid pops off, spilling the last few drops from my first cup.

  My hands are shaking as I pick it up. I take a few deep breaths and say the mantra in my head that my therapist taught me. I am safe and secure. I am safe and secure.

  By the time I straighten up, my heart’s almost beating normally and my hands are steady.

  The man on the bike has parked, and he’s pulling off his helmet as he comes over to me.

  I catch my breath. He’s gorgeous. Tall and broad shouldered, the kind of big man I like, big enough to make me feel normal. His curly dark hair is all messed up from the helmet. He’s wearing smart suit pants which contrast with the leather jacket and bike helmet.

  “You okay?” he asks. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t scare me,” I lie. “I tripped over my shoe.”

  He looks down at my low-heeled boots and back up at me. I get the feeling he’s not buying it.

  “I’m sorry you spilled your coffee. Let me buy you another one.”

  “It’s okay. It was already empty.”

  “I insist.”

  He’s looking at me all expectant and hopeful, and so I shrug my shoulders.

  “Sure, why not?”

  His face lights up in a wide grin and I’m struck by how good looking he is, although he’s got to be at least five years younger than me. I sigh inwardly. All the good looking guys are far too young for me.

  “There’s a coffee place just next door,” he says, leading me out of the parking lot. “But the coffee’s shit.”

  “Oh.”

  He looks at me abashed. “Sorry for swearing, but it really is that bad. If you want good coffee, it’s worth going a little further up the road to Charlie’s.” We keep walking as he talks. “I’m Joe, by the way.” He extends a meaty hand and I shake it.

  “Madison.”

  “Madison.” He repeats the name. “Do people call you Maddy?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Okay.” He pretends to put on a serious face. “Madison it is.” I laugh, and he smiles that gorgeous smile again. “What are you doing visiting Ballyholme Furnishings?”

  “I’m starting a new job. It’s my first day.”

  His face lights up. “That’s great. We’ll be colleagues then. It’s a great place to work.” He frowns. “Well, as far as workplaces go. The people are nice.”

  We stop in front of a grimy looking street cart with Charlie’s written in neon lights flashing above it.

  “It doesn’t look like much, but Charlie makes a mean cup of coffee.”

  “Morning, Charlie.” He smiles at the man behind the counter.

  “Morning, Joe. Your usual?”

  “Sounds good and...” He turns to me. “What are you having?”

  “I’ll have a cappuccino.” I hand over my flask to the man behind the counter and fish my purse out of my bag. Joe’s already handing over a ten-dollar bill.

  “I’ll get my own,” I say putting some money on the counter.

  “No, I insist.”

  Joe’s hand comes down on mine, pinning it to the counter. There’s an instant rush of heat that travels up my arm and makes the skin on the back of my neck prickle. For a moment neither of us moves, and I wonder if he feels it too.

  Then Charlie plonks the coffees down, and Joe lifts his hand off mine. I tuck my money away quickly and mumble a thank you. Feeling confused, I take my coffee and turn away.

  Joe looks at his watch.

  “Shit.” He looks at me quickly. “Oops, sorry, bad language again. I’m late for a meeting. I have to run. Do you know where you need to go?”

  “I guess to reception.”

  “Yeah, of course. Good luck on your first day. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  He bounds off like a big ball of energy. I sip my coffee as I watch him go, wondering if all the men at Ballyholme Furnishings are that hot.

  2

  Joe

  I’m late f
or my meeting, but I don’t care. My blood is pumping in my veins. I’ve just met the hottest woman I’ve ever seen: confident, smartly dressed, tall and curvy. And I was a total idiot. A nervous, blabbering fool.

  She looked like she was a few years older than me, and she was so poised and calm. She must think I’m an immature idiot.

  I feel both elated that I’ve met someone hot and anxious that I just made a fool of myself.

  These thoughts are racing through my head as I dump my helmet on my desk and head for the meeting room.

  Tim, my manager, is already in there as well as Michelle from HR.

  “Sorry I’m late.” I sit down opposite them. “I almost hit someone in the parking lot. Had to buy them a coffee.”

  Tim eyes the coffee cup in my hand. “I see you had time to get one for yourself.”

  I chuckle, and he smiles thinly. He’s twisting his wedding ring on his finger, and suddenly I’m nervous. A knot starts to form in the pit of my stomach.

  “We’ve considered your application,” says Tim. “But we, ah...we’ve decided to give the position to someone else.”

  I look from him to Michelle. “But I’ve been with Ballyholme for nearly ten years.”

  “We appreciate your service,” says Michelle.

  “Like hell you do. I thought company policy was to promote from within?”

  “It is, and you have been promoted throughout your career from designer to sales, but we just don’t think this is the right position for you.”

  “What do you mean? I’ve been top salesperson for the last several months. Regional Sales Manager is the next obvious move.”

  Tim looks awkward, as well he should. We’ve been friends since I started as a sixteen-year-old straight out of school. He looks to Michelle.

  “Your experience in sales is exceptional, but you lack the management skills needed for this type of role.”

  “How am I supposed to get that experience if I’m not given a chance? I can do training courses; I can learn how to manage.”

  “We know you’re upset,” says Michelle patiently. “But the sooner you accept this decision the sooner we can all move on.”

  I slump back in my chair. “Who did you give it to? There’s no one else here who was in the running.”

  “We’ve brought in someone new, someone with vast amounts of experience across the region.”

  I roll my eyes. “But they’ve got no experience at Ballyholme. Come on, Tim. I know this place inside out.”

  He holds out his hands palms down in a placating manner. “I know you’ve got a lot of knowledge about Ballyholme. There’s no disputing that.”

  Michelle cuts in. “That’s why we’re hoping you’ll show the new Regional Sales Manager the ropes. Work with them over the next few weeks to bring them up to speed.”

  “You got to be kidding me.” My mouth drops open.

  “We thought you’d like the chance to show off your knowledge,” says Tim meekly.

  “No way,” I say. “It’s bad enough that I’ve been overlooked for the promotion. I’m not going to do half their job for them.”

  “She will be your new boss,” says Michelle, her tone turning serious and reminding me that she is in HR and is probably going to put a note on my file after this about how uncooperative I’m being.

  “I don’t give a fuck who she is. If she’s so much better than me, she can figure out the job without my help.” I stand up and point a finger at Michelle. “And you can put that on my file.”

  I catch her confused look as I leave the room and instantly regret my harsh tone. Michelle’s not a bad person. I’ll have to buy her a drink at the next work night out. It’s Tim I feel betrayed by.

  I stride past my desk, ignoring my colleagues’ questioning glances.

  “Joe,” calls one of them behind me. I ignore them and keep walking; I need to get out and get some air.

  “Joe.” This time I recognize the voice and I stop. It’s Martin Ballyholme, CEO, son of the owner of the company and prize jerk. Meaning it’s a voice I can’t ignore. I turn around.

  My heart jumps in my throat. He’s standing with Madison, the hot woman I met earlier. He’s got his hand on her arm and is standing a little too close for my liking. There’s a smirk on his face that must be as big as my scowl, and I wonder what he’s up to.

  “Have you met Madison yet?” His smirk widens. It’s just like him to take a personal interest in every new female that starts in the office.

  “We already met,” I say.

  “Madison is the new Regional Sales Manager.” His smile widens as the news sets in. “She’ll be your new boss.”

  I stare at her for a moment, noticing her perfect full lips and the way her intelligent eyes watch me curiously.

  I give her a quick nod. Then I turn, and with all the calm I can muster head down the stairs and outside for some fresh air.

  3

  Madison

  I pour myself a large glass of wine and collapse onto the sofa. It’s been a hard first day thanks to the sleazy CEO and the hot sales star who refused to talk to me for the rest of the day.

  I rub my temples with my fingers and try to dissipate the headache that’s been forming for most of the afternoon.

  Out of habit I check my social media accounts. I haven’t posted on them in months, but that’s not why I check. I’ve had no messages and no posts that could give away my new location. I’ve thought about closing them down, but I still like to scroll through and see what everyone is up to even if I can’t participate.

  I do a search on the case to see if there’s any further news. But there’s nothing since the sentencing three months ago.

  I know I should relax, let it go, but I wonder if I’ll ever feel truly safe again.

  I sip my wine and open my laptop. I may as well look over the sales figures for the region. It’s time to do what I always do when things get tough: bury myself in my work.

  The next morning I take a detour to Charlie’s for some good coffee before heading into the office. I pick up one for Joe.

  When I get to the office, he’s already there concentrating on his computer. I put the coffee on the desk.

  “Black Americano, right?” He looks at me suspiciously. “It’s a peace offering.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Tim told me you applied for this position.” He eyes me warily. “It must be hard to have me in the office. But we have to work together, and I’d appreciate it if we could do that in a civil manner.”

  His lips turn up in a small smile. “In a civil manner? That’s probably the poshest thing anyone’s ever said in this office.”

  Damn, he’s good looking. I feel a blush rising up my neck, and I have to turn away. “Tim said you’d be coming on the road with me this week to meet some of our big clients.”

  “Sure,” he says. “But it’s going to take more than a cup of coffee to win me over, you know.”

  I walk over to my desk, the blush rising up my cheeks. Does he mean win him over in a work sense, or can he tell I think he’s hot?

  I turn on my laptop and busy myself with my work. I can’t let myself get distracted by the office hottie. I pull up the list of top clients and try to concentrate, but I’m too aware of the man sitting a few desks away.

  Three days later we’re sitting together at the diner in a roadside motel having the most awkward meal ever. We’ve spent the day visiting clients and have a few more meetings booked tomorrow.

  I can tell Joe is still pissed with me. He didn’t talk to me much in the car, but his good nature seems to be winning out.

  He takes a sip of his beer and eyes me across the table.

  “What brings a girl like you to Winter Town?” he asks.

  My heart races, and I tell myself to be calm. He can’t know anything. It’s just a standard polite question. “I wanted a fresh start, and that’s where the job came up.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “East,” I say vaguely. “How abo
ut you?”

  “I grew up here. Lived here my whole life.”

  “Seems like a nice spot.”

  “It is.”

  The food arrives and we eat in silence for a while.

  “How long have you been at Ballyholme Furnishings?” I ask.

  “I started in the workshop when I was sixteen. I spent the summer working, and I loved it so much that I didn’t go back to school.

  “You started making the furniture and now you’re selling it? How did that happen?”

  “I loved the workshop.” He puts down his knife and fork. “I used to come in early and stay late, work on the weekend. I worked my way up until I was designing my own products.”

  “You designed the furniture?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice. It’s not usual for someone in sales to start that way.

  “I did. Woodwork was my specialty. Tables and chairs. We did a whole range from reclaimed wood. Each slightly different and unique.” He trails off.

  “What happened?”

  “It wasn’t commercial enough. Clients loved it, but it wasn’t viable for a business this size.”

  “Why did you move to sales?”

  He picks up his cutlery again and starts eating, and I wonder if he heard me.

  “I got frustrated,” he says after a while. “I had a vision that was different than what the company requires.”

  “Go on.”

  “Ballyholme makes furniture for commercial spaces. There’s little leeway to be creative on meeting room tables and reception couches. Our clients want to buy something out of a catalogue. They want something stylish so they can impress their clients, but nothing too different because they don’t want to stand out too much. There’s just not much room for creativity.”