Heart of Ice

by T. B. Markinson

  “No.” Laurie didn’t look up from the report she was reading.

  “Oh.” Jack’s stomach twisted in protest. “Are any of your favorite restaurants open downtown at this hour?”

  “Nope.”

  “There’s a Chinese place that delivers.” Jack suggested after seconds ticked past without any further response, during which Laurie had continued to work as if she weren’t the least bit worried about dying of starvation.

  Laurie sighed as she tore her eyes from her screen long enough to look dubiously at Jack. “Even on a Sunday?”

  “Technically, it’s Monday, but trust me. They know me by name.”

  Laurie regarded her with a steely expression. “I’ll have a veggie stir fry with the sauce on the side.”

  “Let me stop you right there.” Jack stabbed the air with an outstretched hand. “You’ll have no such thing.”

  Laurie’s head whipped back, her face wearing an expression of shock as if she’d been struck. “Excuse me?”

  Jack regarded the slender blonde. She looked healthier than she had when they’d met a few weeks before, her face a little fuller, but her weight was nowhere near sauce on the side territory. “Do you not remember the salmon poke incident?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The night we met. You ordered tasteless salmon and then ate my nachos. I didn’t know you that night, so I let you

  —”“Let me—”

  Jack made a zip-it motion with her hand, feeling suddenly bold. Maybe it was hunger, or maybe it was the peculiar intoxication that came from burning the candle at both ends, but she felt the need to set the record straight on a few points when it came to her snooty boss. “Trust me on this, Blair. I was right about ping-pong earlier today, and I’m even righter now.”

  “I don’t think that’s a word.” Laurie wasn’t angry. If anything, she seemed amused. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood for Chinese.”

  “Too late.” Jack, who had already dialed the number, stuck out her tongue. “Hello, delivery, please.” She provided the address, then rattled o her favorite order from memory.

  “Two hot and sour soups, steamed dumplings, sesame chicken, orange beef, General Tso’s chicken, fried rice, and white rice.” She mouthed anything else to Laurie, who only stared back at her, jaw slack. “Oh, those donut things. Two orders.” Jack waited a beat to give Laurie one final chance before saying, “That’s all,” and ending the call.

  “Is there another team coming in tonight that I don’t know about?” Laurie questioned once Jack had set down the

  phone. “Are we inviting your ping-pong buddies from fourteen to join us for dinner?”

  “I like variety.” Jack’s stomach let out a gurgling sound that, even from several feet away, Laurie could definitely hear. “Besides, I’m starving.”

  “I got that part when you ordered donuts on top of everything else, because who doesn’t need a few chocolate glazed atrocities after midnight?”

  “They’re Chinese donuts.”

  “Chinese donuts? I’ve never even heard of such a thing.”

  “How have you lived thirty… wait.” Jack’s face scrunched as she stopped herself on the edge of a very dangerous precipice.

  “Wait, what?” It almost sounded like a dare.

  Jack pressed her lips together, weighing exactly how narrow the line was between brave and stupid. “Well, it’s just, I was going to ask how you’d lived all these years without eating a Chinese donut, but then it occurred to me I’m not sure exactly how old you are.”

  “How old do you think?”

  Deadly game. Jack closed her eyes and made a guess.

  “Thirty-eight?”

  “I’m forty-nine.”

  “You’re almost fifty?” The air rushed from Jack’s lungs.

  She’d slept with a woman who was almost fifty?

  “I am not.” Laurie’s eyes flashed. “I turned forty-nine last summer.”

  “Right,” Jack breathed. “One year away from the big five-oh.”

  Laurie’s spine went sti . “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine,” Jack squeaked.

  Laurie’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck me.”

  “I already did.”

  “That’s the problem.” Laurie buried her head in her hands and moaned. “I thought you were at least mid-thirties.”

  “Yeah, well,” Jack’s head spun, “me too.”

  “God, that explains those meals you got.”

  Jack shot her boss a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Only someone under thirty would order that much crap.

  And so sweet! Do you prefer all your food to be candied?”

  “Candied!” Jack snorted. “I don’t understand what you have against good food.”

  “Child.”

  Incensed, Jack placed a hand to her heart. “I’m not that young.”

  “Well, I’m not that old,” Laurie spat back, turning to face her computer and bringing an abrupt end to the conversation.

  “I never said you were,” Jack muttered, but her comment got no response.

  Moments later, Jack’s phone buzzed with an incoming text alerting her the delivery person would be outside in five minutes.

  “Food’s here.” It was the first words either of them had spoken.

  “Take this.” Laurie rummaged in her pocket and tossed Jack a plastic card without looking up. At first, she thought it was a credit card and was on the verge of throwing it back.

  Jack had ordered the food, so pride demanded the meal be her treat. Then she realized it was the security pass that would let her access the express elevator reserved for executives. She tucked it in her palm and headed down.

  When Jack returned, two spaces had been prepared side by side at the co ee table, with real cloth napkins, Chinese-style spoons, and chopsticks—not the cheap bamboo kind,

  but nice ones that looked like they’d come from a high-end shop.

  “Fancy,” Jack said as she arranged the various containers on the table. Admittedly, seeing it all spread out in front of her, she’d ordered a ridiculous amount of food. They’d probably eat all of five bites of each between the two of them and have leftovers for a week. Jack would rather die than admit it. She sat on the sofa and surveyed the feast. “What’ll you have?”

  “I’ll start with the hot and sour.” Laurie pointed to one of the clear plastic containers with droplets of steam condensed on the inside of the lid. “That’s the only way to tell if a place is any good.”

  “Smart approach.”That was exactly how Jack judged a new Chinese restaurant, too. She placed one of the soups in front of her and the other in the space beside her, confident that the woman would be pleased with her o ering the second she tasted it.

  “I’ve had plenty of years to learn. Almost fifty, remember.”

  Shit. Laurie was never going to let her live down that faux pas in a million years. Jack wished she could sink into a hole and keep going until she actually reached China, like her mom used to tell her could happen when she was a kid. Even that might not be far enough to escape her embarrassment.

  Sinking down beside her on the couch, Laurie removed the lid to her soup, steam billowing out. Slowly, she lowered a spoon, getting the perfect mix of the thick broth and tofu.

  As soon as Laurie placed it into her mouth, Jack knew she’d been right. But, to hammer it home, Laurie let out a sound of such utter satisfaction that Jack’s mind flittered directly to that night they’d promise never to speak of again. Jack undid the folded aluminum on the dumpling container, welcoming

  the distraction of scorching steam against her fingertips.

  “Well?”

  “It’s not bad,” Laurie answered blandly, lifting another spoonful to her lips.

  “That’s not what that moan said just now.”

  “Please, elaborate.”

  Jack chuckled. “That was a holy fucking shit this is good moan.”

  “Is that r
ight?” Laurie half smiled, a naughty expression that made certain parts of Jack forget the recent revelation about Laurie’s age.

  What did it matter, really? Age was a number. Some women were like a fine wine, improving with every year.

  Laurie Emerson was definitely such a woman. Sexy as hell.

  “Don’t forget I’ve heard that sound before.” Jack inched closer to Laurie. “Here, try a dumpling.” She held one between her chopsticks for Laurie to take a bite.

  Laurie hesitated, perhaps considering whether or not to allow Jack to feed her. She glanced to her hand, which was occupied with a soup spoon. Giving in to expediency, she leaned over and bit into the o ering. Dumpling juice dribbled from the corner of her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut, her face transformed by an expression of sheer ecstasy.

  Exquisite.

  Jack quickly crossed her legs. The dumpling wasn’t the only thing in the room having trouble containing its juices.

  “Oh my God.” Laurie touched the tip of her tongue to her lips. Jack nearly swooned. “Half a century old and I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

  There was teasing in Laurie’s sparkling blue eyes, but heat rose to Jack’s cheeks. She spoke in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made a big deal about your age. I was just surprised.”

  “Me, too.” The teasing look was gone, replaced by a level of sincerity that threatened to turn Jack into a puddle on the couch. Was there any quality more desirable in a woman than that? Now that the initial shock had subsided, the di erence in their ages wasn’t a problem at all. So why did Laurie have to be her boss? Jack wanted to cry. Her appetite for food had disappeared, replaced by a yearning for what she couldn’t have.

  Laurie, on the other hand, seemed obsessed with the sea of white takeout containers, opening first one and then another to peer inside. “Now what?”

  Take o your blouse? Jack barely controlled the urge to say it aloud, instead suggesting, “The sesame chicken is my favorite.”

  They ate in silence, both inching closer and closer so they could eat out of the small containers. Finally, Laurie set her chopsticks down on the co ee table and leaned back on the couch. “I can’t eat anything else.”

  Jack stretched, cat-like. “That’s a shame.”

  “Playing with fire. You don’t know when to stop, do you?”

  On the receiving end of one of Laurie’s sharpest looks, Jack suddenly caught the innuendo the woman must have thought she’d intended, and Jack felt her face grow flush. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant you have to try a donut. It’s the best part of the meal. Trust—”

  “You?” There was a smile on Laurie’s lips. A full, beautiful smile. “I don’t know. I’m not big on trust.”

  Jack reached for a lump of fried dough rolled in a gritty coating of white sugar. “They were my dad’s favorite. He’d order them every time we got takeout from the local place down the street.” As they always did when she mentioned her father, Jack’s eyes started to tear up. She dabbed them quickly with her fingertips, hoping Laurie wouldn’t notice,

  but the woman was way too astute to let a detail like that escape her.

  “You okay?” Laurie’s tone was like a soft caress.

  Jack sni ed. “Yeah. Fine.”

  A warm hand pressed against Jack’s knee. “When did he die?”

  “I was thirteen, but it feels like yesterday.”

  “I understand.” Laurie turned her face away.

  “It destroyed my mother, losing him like that. Honestly, I don’t see the point.”

  “The point of what, parents?” Laurie raised an eyebrow.

  “Considering Toby’s technically my stepson, I’ll admit it’s children whose usefulness I’ve always questioned a little.”

  “No, I was talking about falling in love. It leads to loss and heartache. I had friends growing up with single mothers who were strong and capable. Not mine.” Jack brought her hand down, swatting the sofa cushion for emphasis. “She never accepted his death. She would’ve been better o never having met him.” Jack, for one, hadn’t truly been in love, not solely because of her experience with her mom, but who had the time?

  Slowly, Laurie swiveled her head to face Jack. “I know what she went through. I went through it, too. Trust me when I say I wouldn’t change a thing. Sometimes you have to trust the universe.”

  “How, though?” Jack’s gaze was held by the mesmerizing blue of Laurie’s eyes, two ponds with such depth that she could tumble into them and never stop falling.

  “By following your heart”—Laurie removed her hand from Jack’s knee and touched it to the center of her own chest—“as well as your head.”

  Jack inhaled sharply as Laurie’s hand touched the side of her head, resting gently. It calmed her, and she hated knowing that any second, Laurie would take it away. Instead,

  her hand lingered, stroking Jack’s short curls. Their heads moved closer together. After closing her eyes, Jack cupped Laurie’s hand with her own, turned it, and brought it to her lips, kissing her palm. Laurie leaned closer, until there was only a sliver of space between their lips as they gazed into the other’s eyes. All awareness of where she was, or even who she and Laurie were, retreated from Jack’s consciousness, leaving only the sensations of touch and longing.

  In the end, it was Laurie who made the move, planting her hungry mouth onto Jack’s, who met Laurie’s desire and kicked it up a notch. Soon, their hands pawed each other, Jack’s slipping under Laurie’s shirt, while she yanked Jack’s top right o and shoved the bra upward, giving Laurie access to a nipple already standing at alert status. With a frustrated growl as the bra did its best to slip back into place, Laurie stripped it o Jack, tossing it over her shoulder.

  Jack was on her back, with Laurie on top, when the faintest of alarms sounded in her head, like the clanging of a bell from miles away. Was she really about to let her boss strip her down and take her right there in the executive suite?

  Um, yes.

  Hadn’t Laurie told her to trust the universe?

  But as Jack prepared to surrender to destiny, Laurie’s body sti ened. “Wait, I can’t do this… not here.”

  “Somewhere else?” Jack asked breathlessly.

  “No.” Laurie looked around, wild-eyed as if she had no idea how any of this had happened. Jack felt the same; she’d just been much more inclined to go with it, no questions asked. “We should call it a night.”

  Jack wanted to protest or outright beg, but she had enough pride left to refrain. Besides, she knew better.

  Laurie’s suddenly closed-o expression made it clear things

  had gone too far. Jack should get dressed and go home, but there was a small problem. “The train stopped running ages ago. If you really want me to leave, I’m afraid you’ll have to give me a ride.”

  Laurie’s shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh. “Can’t. I had my driver bring me in, and I’d already planned to stay overnight. Can’t you call Uber?”

  “At this time of night?” Jack glanced down, noticing her bare breasts, and grabbed for her shirt. “Do you want me to get murdered?”

  “Fine. You can sleep at your desk.”

  “Are you insane?” Jack stomped her foot on the floor.

  “That chair’s not comfortable, and the floor is as hard as a rock.”

  “I guess you can stay in here, but this couch is mine.”

  Laurie pointed to the smaller love seat that jutted out from the one they were on to form an L. “You can have that one.”

  “Whatever.” Jack hoisted herself o the couch and curled up on the love seat. “I’ll be back at my desk as soon as the sun’s up.”

  C H A P T E R E L E V E N

  THE FIRST RAYS OF MORNING SUNLIGHT SPLASHED ONTO LAURIE’S

  face, gently rousing her from her slumber. She turned to her side, and a stabbing pain in her lower back jolted her fully awake. She lifted her head from… not her pillow.

  Where am I?

  Laurie�
��s eyes flew open, her vision as blurred as her memory. After blinking rapidly several times, the world shifted more or less into focus, and her surroundings started to sink in. She was in her o ce. She recalled a late night at work, after which she’d fallen asleep on one of the couches.

  Alone?

  Her eyes darted to where Jack was curled up on the other couch, a stunning specimen with soft curves and luscious, creamy skin. Though her eyes were closed in slumber, Laurie could still recall the inquisitiveness they had held, the look of kindness and humor that drew her in each time the woman entered the room. That searing expression that never failed to make Laurie want her.

  Too much.

  Laurie, always able to sideline any and all emotions to keep the eye on the prize, had nearly lost control the night before. She had no excuses this time. She’d been completely sober and hadn’t had the allure of a one-night stand—

  naughty but so very fleeting—to hide behind. She’d had knowledge going in. She knew how Jack tasted, what her skin felt like, and the sounds she made when about to come.

  Knowledge had proven to be an even more powerful aphrodisiac than the call of the unknown.

  Wanting to be close to another person was normal.

  Necessary, even. For those who couldn’t keep themselves in check. But Laurie the Hatchet wasn’t weak like that, was she? She’d let her guard down with Bonnie, but that had been di erent. They’d been married, in love. Jack was nothing more than a diversion.

  Her mind played Devil’s advocate. But if she was merely a diversion, what was the harm? Would it have been terrible to sleep with Jack one more time?

  Yes, her rational voice screamed inside her head, with a volume that suggested it feared being ignored. And why would it have been so bad? Because of what else Laurie knew, which she hadn’t known that night in the hotel.

  Jack was young, much more her junior than Laurie had guessed, though that alone might not have been a deal breaker. Laurie understood that age wasn’t everything.

  There’d been a significant age gap between Bonnie and her, but they’d been perfectly matched. Except when she’d started dating Bonnie, Laurie had worked for another firm.