The Nice Boxset

by Jasinda Wilder

  “Yes you can. I’ve got a sweater on, I’m fine.” He seemed totally unaffected by the bitter cold, and Holly was too cold, too tired, and honestly, too grateful to argue.

  She shoved her frozen, numb, burning hands into the deep pockets of the coat and inhaled the potent male scent that clung to the dark blue wool.

  Holly felt something tighten in her throat. She’d never had anyone to rely on. Even before Nick left five years ago, she’d never been able to count on him. He’d been either at work, at the bar, or off with his flavor of the week. He’d stuck around through her first pregnancy—cheating on her the entire time—but when she came up pregnant again a little over a year later, he’d split without a backward glance. The state couldn’t find him once he left, so she’d never gotten a single dime of child support from him. Holly’s mom watched the kids while she worked, but that was the extent of the help she could expect, and thank god for that much, since there was no way Holly could afford day care or a babysitter. She barely managed as it was.

  Declan reached past her and retrieved the keys from her car, tossed them in her purse, and pointed at his car, idling a few spaces away. “Come on, Holly. My car is right over here, and it’s already warm.”

  She let him lead her to his car, a low-slung black two-door BMW coupe. He opened the passenger door and held her hand until she slid in, then closed the door after her. He opened the door for me, Holly thought. No one opens doors for women anymore.

  Declan circled the car and filled the driver’s side with his presence. Standing a few inches over six feet, Declan was a tall man, but his muscular physique was where his real size came from. He was swathed in a thick wool sweater at the moment, but Holly had seen him around the office frequently enough to know how he was built. He dressed casually most of the time, jeans and button-down shirts. His jeans were always tight enough to accentuate his trim waist and cupped his firm ass, and his thick arms and heavy chest bulged the fabric of his shirts.

  He flustered her, frankly. He was sexy and intense. Already a shy and somewhat introverted person, whenever Declan was around she grew tongue-tied and had a tendency to blush furiously. Maybe it was his eyes, dark and searing as if he could see into her heart.

  Now, with the BMW’s engine purring and the heater pouring out warmth, she felt the same rush of nerves. He was just sitting there, huge and beautiful, tugging his gloves off, and she felt flustered and flushed, blushing. She was still shivering and chattering, but her cheeks burned. It was an odd, confusing sensation.

  “So, Holly Wright. Where are we going?”

  “What? Oh. Um. Seven-six-seven Desmond, apartment B.” Holly focused on not letting her teeth chatter rather than look at Declan with his curious gaze and that strong jawline and those lips quirked up in an amused grin.

  “Alright then,” Declan said. “Um, should I GPS it, or can you give me directions?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, Mister Montrose.” She glanced around to get her bearings, and her nerves, shifting on the leather seat, which was starting to get hot under her bottom. “Um, turn right.”

  Declan laughed, a gravelly chuckle. “Alright, a couple things. One, call me Dec. Two, we’re still in the parking spot. If I turn right, we’ll end up inside the building.”

  Holly smiled, a tiny tilt of her lips. “You know what I meant. Turn right on the main road.”

  Declan put the car in gear and pulled out onto the main road, his back end fishtailing in the fresh snow. He smoothly compensated, righting the vehicle. “So, Holly. What’s wrong with your car?”

  Holly dared a glance at him. “Um, the alternator? Must be, since I just got a new battery put in it.”

  “Ugh. That’s not good. Alternators can be pricey.” Declan drove slowly, glancing at the intersections before going through them. “So where do I turn next?”

  Holly fidgeted with the zipper of her coat. “Left at the next light.”

  There was a long, awkward silence, broken by Holly’s stomach growling.

  Declan glanced at her as he navigated the turn. “Hungry? There’s an all-night diner just ahead. Care to grab a bite with me?”

  Holly did want to, desperately, but she couldn’t afford it, and there was no way she’d let Declan buy for her. “I’m fine. I’ll eat at home.”

  Her stomach growled again, louder than the first time.

  “Come on, Holly. I don’t bite.” His voice held a note of amusement.

  Staring out the window at the preternaturally bright city, the snow reflecting the ambient light, Holly fought to remember why she had to get him take her directly home.

  She hit on the first plausible excuse. “It’s…not that. My mom watches my kids for me after they get back from school. She’s been there for hours, so I have to get back.”

  Holly’s hand with the hurt finger was resting on the console between them, and Declan absently reached out rested his hand on hers. She winced and jerked her hand away, flexing her pinky.

  “What’d you do to your hand?” Declan asked.

  “Nothing. Just hurt the finger. I’m fine.”

  Declan sighed and took her hand in his. “You’re a stubborn one, you know that? Let me see.”

  Holly tried to pull her hand back, but he wouldn’t let her. “I said I’m fine. I’m not stubborn.”

  Declan shook his head. “You say you’re fine a lot, but so far, you don’t seem to be. You’re probably gonna catch a cold, you’re starving, you have a possibly broken finger, a dead car, a cracked cell phone screen—”

  Holly jerked her hand away. “Yeah, well, I’m fine.”

  Declan just laughed. “I think it might be safe to say you are very much not fine. You’re having an awful day. Just accept it. It’s okay to be not fine.”

  He pulled the car into a parking lot in front of a small diner, the lot empty but for a couple cars in the corner. Declan slid out of the car, letting in a blast of cold air, and circled around to open the door for Holly.

  “Come on, now. No sense arguing with me,” he said with a smile. “I’m your boss. Let’s consider this overtime, huh? Which would make this a business lunch, of sorts. You can let me pay for it without getting huffy, which I can see you working up to.”

  “I’m f—”

  “If you say you’re fine one more time, you’re going to seriously irritate me.” He took her uninjured hand and pulled her out of the car. “Quit being stubborn and let me be nice to you, Holly.”

  Holly swallowed the rest of her objections and let him lead her into the warm, bright diner. After they’d ordered, Declan took her hurt hand in his again and examined it, wiggling the finger and probing as she winced and held back whimpers of pain.

  “Well, it’s not broken, just out of socket.” He glanced at her face, concern on his handsome features. “I can reset it for you and it’ll be fine—actually fine, this time. It’ll hurt though.”

  Holly shrugged and looked away, trying not to enjoy the rough, scratchy heat of his large hand holding her small, soft one. “It already hurts like a bitch, so if you can fix it, go for it. Just do it, though, don’t count.”

  Declan took her finger in one hand and her palm in other, looked at her briefly, then back to her hand. “Ready? One, two—“

  A rush of irritation hit her. “I said don’t—”

  At that moment, he tugged her finger straight out, and a blaze of pain shot through her, followed by a wave of relief. “You did that on purpose,” she said, once the pain had subsided.

  “Did what?” He asked.

  He hadn’t let go of her hand, and didn’t seem inclined to. Holly knew she should take her hand back, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. His hand was gently cradling hers, his thumb rubbing in small circles. It was an intimate, familiar gesture that sent a pang of loneliness and longing through Holly’s heart.

  Frustrated with her own hopeless and probably fruitless desire for her boss, Holly tugged her hand free and fixed her gaze out the window. She reminded herself to not ge
t her hopes up. He was wealthy, successful, sexy as hell, and compassionate on top of all that. No way he’d go for a tired, over-thirty, single mother of two. Just no way.

  When she withdrew her hand, though, a frown crossed Declan’s handsome face, before he turned to focus on the food the waitress had dropped off.

  “So, Holly. What are your Christmas plans?” He asked.

  She shrugged. “I’ll give the kids their presents from me on Christmas Eve, and my mom will come over Christmas day and the kids will open theirs from her. That’s about it.”

  “You have two kids, right? A girl and a boy.”

  Holly hesitated; she hadn’t realized he knew that much about her. “ Yeah. Jodi is eight and Michael is six.”

  “And it’s just you and them and your mom?” He was watching her carefully.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Their dad took off when I found out I was pregnant with Michael, and my dad has never been around. It was just me and Mom when I was a kid, and now...well it still is.”

  Declan’s face darkened. “He left you while you were pregnant?”

  “Yeah. I told him when I was...eight weeks? He left the next day. I got back from work and he was just gone. Took my savings, too. Jodi was a year old.”

  “What an asshole.” Declan shook his head. “Seriously. I mean, I’m sorry if that’s over-stepping my bounds here, but for real. What a dickbag.”

  Holly laughed. “Yeah, you have no idea. I’m better off without him.” She met Declan’s eyes, and felt a flush spreading through her at the heat in his gaze, the blatant interest. “What about you? What are your plans for the holidays?”

  Declan glanced at his plate and shrugged. “The office party is the day before Christmas. After that? Not much.”

  “Not much? What’s that mean?” Holly sensed an evasion.

  He shrugged. “It means I’ll stay home, watch the parade and then some football, and probably drink too much spiked eggnog.” He waved his hand vaguely.

  “Alone?” Holly winced internally at how sympathetic and soft her voice sounded.

  “My dad died a few years ago. Mom lives in Scotland with her new husband, and he and I don’t exactly get along. I don’t have any siblings, so…yeah. Alone.”

  Holly felt sharp bite of sympathy for him. “God, that’s awful. I’m sorry. You don’t have a wife or girlfriend? No one?”

  Declan’s expression closed up. “Nope. I was with someone for awhile, but that—it didn’t work out.”

  Holly slid her hand across the table. “I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t have much by way of family, but at least I have Mom and my kids. I don’t know what I’d do without them. I’d go crazy with loneliness.” She watched with almost detached interest as her hand laid across his. “It’s not the same, though, you know? At the end of the day, parents and kids? They’re not—”

  “Not a companion,” Declan interjected, softly. “I know what you mean. All too well.”

  Their eyes met, dark brown and bright green, and for the first time since he knocked on her car window, Holly met his gaze without looking away first or blushing. Declan was the first to break eye contact.

  “You’re gonna let me pay, right?” he said.

  “Would it do any good to argue?”

  “Nope,” Declan said, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of her hand.

  “Then yes. And thank you.” She smiled at him, and the grin he flashed back at her made something in her belly flutter.

  “My pleasure.” He glanced at the bill, and then back at her. “Twenty-six-fifty is a small price to pay for the pleasure of your company.”

  Holly blushed. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Nope. I came up with that one just now. You’re the first. Did it work?”

  Holly tilted her head back and forth. “Depends on what you were trying to accomplish.”

  “Cheer you up, at the very least. And just possibly be a little charming.” His brown eyes were locked on hers, bright with humor and interest, and maybe even a hint of something like desire.

  Holly’s stomach flip-flopped. “Um.” She felt her face burning, and she had to look away from his dark eyes. “I’m cheered up. Yep. Definitely worked.”

  He leaned forward so their faces were mere inches apart. “What about the other part?”

  Holly batted her eyelashes. “Whatever do you mean?”

  He chuckled and slid out of the booth to pay the bill. “Hmmm. Guess I’ll have to work on my irresistible charm.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s working just fine.” Holly moved to stand next to him at the cash register, her heart pitter-pattering, her stomach feeling weightless.

  Declan Montrose was flirting with her? Could it be real? Could she be misinterpreting the situation? Holly bit her lip and glanced sideways at him as he counted out cash. He had his thick Navy Pea coat draped over one arm, his broad shoulders and thick arms stretching the sleeves of his pale orange Henley. His eyes looked tired, the black stubble on his jaw thick and rough, as he hadn’t shaved in at least two or three days. God, he was sexy. She wanted to run her palm over the rough stubble, wanted to feel the sandpaper-scrape as she kissed his jaw, his upper lip…she wanted to feel the scratch and the heat on the insides of her thighs as he lapped at her….

  Holy crap. Where the hell had that come from?

  Declan caught her staring. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

  Holly laughed, a light tinkling in the quiet, deserted diner. “No, I—no, sorry.” The heated interest in his gaze sent another rush of flames heating her cheeks.

  Declan’s fingers reached out and brushed her cheeks, a hesitant touch. “You blush more than anyone I’ve ever met before, you know that?” He swiped her other cheek with his thumb. “Do I make you nervous, Holly?”

  She was frozen stiff, staring up at him, barely breathing, the image her runaway imagination had conjured flashing through her mind over and over: his face bathed in soft light, his black hair messy from the wild grip of her fingers.

  She could barely breathe, couldn’t think straight.“I—yes. No. I don’t know.”

  He smirked, as if he could read the naught images in her mind. “Well, that was a helpful answer.”

  “Sorry. Yes, you do make me nervous.” She picked at the peeling Formica countertop, refusing to meet his amused smirk. “I don’t usually blush this much, and I’m not always this tongue-tied. You fluster me.”

  “I fluster you?” He reached out and twirled the end of a stray tendril of her long auburn hair between his finger and thumb. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  Holly shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a thing.”

  “Just a thing, huh?” Declan slid his hand into hers, as if they’d always tangled fingers. “Well don’t let me fluster you, Holly. I’m just a guy, you know?” He led her out to his car, opening the passenger door and closing it behind her with practiced familiarity.

  The gesture had Holly’s heart beating oddly, because it seemed to be second nature to Declan, whereas no guy she’d ever dated—and there hadn’t been all that many—had ever treated her the way Declan did.

  “Just a guy, huh? Okay, sure,” she said, sarcasm tingeing her voice.

  “Why do you sound so skeptical?”

  “It means you’re a talented, successful businessman, a great boss, and now you’re turning out to be genuinely kind, on top of being sex on toast.”

  Declan laughed out loud. “Sex on toast? What does that even mean?”

  Holly buried her face in her hands. “God, I can’t believe I just said that to you. I am Holly’s extreme embarrassment.”

  “Fight Club references? Oh my. Now there’s a turn-on.” He pulled the BMW onto the road, and then glanced at Holly with a wide grin on his face. “Seriously though, what does ‘sex on toast’ even mean?”

  Holly shook her head and stared resolutely out the window. “Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. Forget it.”

  “O
h come on. You can’t clam up on me after a comment like that.”

  “You’re my boss. I shouldn’t be flirting with you.” Holly shoved her hands in her coat pockets to hide their trembling. She could not believe she’d just said that to her boss. Her sexy, intriguing boss, who seemed to be interested in her, against all likelihood.

  “Hey, I flirted first. And since I wrote the rulebook, I’m pretty sure there’s not a no-fraternization policy at Montrose Logistics. I can flirt with you if I want.” Declan’s serious gaze pinned her to the window, even though she wasn’t looking at him; she could feel his eyes on her.

  “Yeah, ‘cause you don’t risk anything,” she said, her voice hard, now. “I do.”

  “Oh, I see.” His voice betrayed hurt and anger. “So that’s how it is.”

  Holly finally turned to look at him. “Yeah, that’s how it is. I’m a single mom with two kids,” she explained, her voice softening. “I’m broke. I have a broken-down piece of shit car, a broken phone, Christmas is around the corner and I can’t afford presents for my kids.”

  “What does that have to do with flirting with me?” Declan demanded.

  “I just can’t afford to risk my job, Declan. It’s a good job, it pays well, and I like working for you. I don’t want to have to find a new one because I went and made things awkward with my boss.” She looked away from the compassion in his eyes. “It’s nothing personal. I like you, I just—”

  “You’re afraid,” Declan said, his eyes piercing hers.

  “I am not!” Holly lied. “I’m just—“

  “Playing it safe. Look, I get it. I do. But sometimes you have to take risks.”

  Holly gave him an irritated glance. “I can’t afford risks, Declan. I’m a mother. If I take risks that don’t pan out, it’s not just me that suffers, it’s my kids. If something were to—I don’t know…if something were to happen between you and me, and it didn’t work out…where would that leave me? It’s a small company, Declan. It’s not like we can just avoid each other to get away from the awkwardness. Plus, getting involved with someone doesn’t just involve me. It involves my kids. If they get attached to someone and it doesn’t work out, they’re more hurt than I am, and I’m not willing to put them through that.” She indicated the coming intersection. “Turn left here.”