by Candis Terry
The more the conversation with Ryan went on, the more Dec believed going home was the right thing to do. Even if that meant spending fifteen hours in a car, elbow-to-elbow with his smoking hot, sweet smelling assistant.
Before he’d ended the call, he’d casually asked if Ryan thought bringing Brooke along with him on a thousand-mile road trip would be throwing himself into the fires of hell. His big brother had laughed then hesitated before giving Dec an unexpected response.
Little brother, I’ve seen your assistant. And believe me, the trip to hell would be worth it.
In the morning light, Declan wasn’t so sure.
After losing an internal all-night debate about canceling the trip, he pulled up in front of Brooke’s address in a suburb of Orange County. He noted the simplicity of the home, the well-trimmed lawn, and the huge black truck parked in the driveway next to Brooke’s Honda.
Stupid shit.
He’d conveniently dismissed the reality that Brooke could very well be involved with someone who wouldn’t appreciate her taking off with another man. Her employer at that. No question his initial reaction to the idea blurred the line between business and pleasure. And no matter what his brother thought, Brooke was a valuable employee.
Period. End of story.
He sat in the car and contemplated all the reasons this was a bad idea, but the wheel was already in motion. He needed to get back to his family. Decisions needed to be made. Puzzles needed to be solved. Business needed to move forward. And for that he needed his assistant. Having her travel with him wouldn’t be any different than any other day at the office. He could maintain control of his thoughts. He could keep his desire for her at bay. No matter how good she looked, how wonderful she might smell, or how delicious she might taste.
Fifteen hours was a drop in the bucket.
He could do this.
Before he went all Hulk Hogan and started grunting, he walked to the front door and rang the bell. When a man opened the door he wasn’t surprised.
The guy on the opposite side of the threshold equaled Dec’s six-foot-three height, was clean-cut, in good physical shape, and obviously annoyed.
For a second he and the man stood there, sizing each other up before Dec introduced himself. The lack of a reciprocating introduction was definitely intentional and Dec didn’t blame the man for the snub. If someone like him had shown up to take his woman on a long road trip to another state, he’d have something to say about it.
Like a big hell no.
“Brooke sweetie, your boss is here,” the other man said as if he could reach into Dec’s mind and grab hold of the not-so-professional thoughts hovering there.
Yep. That clinched it.
Dec pulled down his imaginary professional hat and waited for Brooke to come to the door. Without a word to Dec, the guy disappeared somewhere in the house. When Brooke appeared, Dec had to take a step back and hold on tight to his good intentions.
For four years Brooke had shown up at the office with a professionalism that matched her straight skirts and button-down blouses. This morning, however, she looked like something straight out of a country music video. Her honey blond hair looked freshly washed and tousled so that it hung down her back in long sexy waves instead of the sleek straight look she usually wore during business hours. A snug white tank top accentuated her perfect breasts. Around her narrow waist she’d tied the sleeves of a red plaid shirt. Her long tanned legs were topped off with a pair of short cutoff jeans. And her feet were covered with gray-and-blue sneakers.
If he was her boyfriend he’d never let her out the door looking like that. Not that he had a problem with the way she dressed or would ever have the right to tell her what to wear, he’d just be too busy taking off her clothes, hauling her into the bedroom, and making love to her until the sun went down. Yet the man in the house remained glaringly absent as his sexy-as-sin girlfriend tossed Dec a smile that flashed her dimples.
“Hey. Look at you.” Her dark eyes moved appreciatively over his body. “I’ve never seen you in anything other than a suit and tie. Jeans and a T-shirt look good on you. I’m glad I suggested we go casual for the drive.”
He was glad too. But for completely different reasons.
“Come on in.” She waved him into the house. “I just have to grab my stuff and I’m ready to go.”
Dec stepped inside of a house furnished nice and neat without looking antiseptic. A few real houseplants were placed on shelves and some nice black-and-white photography decorated the walls. Basic black leather furniture had been strategically positioned for the best viewing of the large flat-screen TV. And with a smattering of decorator pieces, the place didn’t look overly feminine or masculine. More like a combination of the two.
Still, the boyfriend remained MIA.
“Let me help you with your bag,” Dec said, wondering why the boyfriend wasn’t offering to help his woman.
“Awww. You’re sweet. But I can get it.”
Sweet?
He’d never been called that in his life.
Pensive, determined, private, and successful? Yes. But sweet? Nope.
He watched her hips gently sway as she walked down the hall.
Yeah, she might be taken, and he might be her boss, but damned if he didn’t look anyway.
Moments later she came back down the hall with a bright orange tote bag slung over one shoulder, pulling a red suitcase, and cradling a little tri-colored dog. A real dog that looked at him with utter surprise in its bright blue eyes. Not a stuffed animal like something she might cuddle at night. Well, maybe she cuddled something but he definitely wasn’t going to allow his imagination to go there. Especially not now when he knew she had a boyfriend. Even if the unnamed idiot couldn’t seem to come out of hiding to say goodbye when she called out that she was leaving.
Amid her protests, Dec took her suitcase and tote bag, leaving her to carry the dog, who had something big, fuzzy, gray, and slobbery hanging from its mouth.
“Who do you have there?” he asked with a tilt of his head toward the canine. “And what is that?”
“This . . .” She chuckled then gave the dog a kiss on the head. “Is Moochie. She’s a mini Australian shepherd who disregards the ‘mini’ moniker when there’s a cat on the fence. And that is her favorite toy. It used to be an elephant before she pulled out the squeaker and all the stuffing.”
Eyes wary, the dog looked up at him.
“She looks a little freaked out.” Dec put Brooke’s suitcase next to his in the trunk of his red convertible Infiniti Q60.
“It’s the bright color of her eyes that makes her appear that way.” Brooke resettled the little dog on her hip. “I hope you don’t mind if I bring her along. I don’t have anyone to watch her while I’m gone and I don’t have the heart to put her in a kennel.”
“What about your boyfriend?”
“My . . .” She glanced back at the house. “Kyle?”
Dec shrugged. “He didn’t introduce himself.”
“Kyle is my best friend and roommate. He’s not my boyfriend. In fact, he’s engaged to be married.” She chuckled. “To Marc.”
“Marc?” Dec’s head snapped up. “I didn’t get that vibe from him. The glare he gave me seemed more of a protective one for you.”
“He quit throwing out the vibe when he met Marc. They’re a great couple,” she said as he tossed her tote bag into the backseat. “And he’s not overly protective of me because he knows I can pretty much hold my own.”
Dec thought of her Fearless bracelet and wondered if there was a connection. However, when she leaned into the car, all thought stopped and his attention immediately shot to the rear view of her Daisy Dukes.
“Tough girl, huh?”
She scooted inside the car and looked up at him. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Apparently.
“By the way, the answer is no.”
“No?”
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend. Just in case
you were wondering.”
Of course he’d wondered. He wasn’t dead for God’s sake.
“So . . .” She tucked her enormous purse by her feet. “Are we officially on the clock right now? Do you want me to pull out my laptop and get to work? Wi-Fi might be spotty but I have other things I can accomplish.”
“Too distracting for me.” Like he wasn’t already on overload? “I need to focus on the traffic.”
“Sweet. So I don’t have to act all professional and boring until we get there?”
Since when had she ever been boring?
And what exactly did she have in mind?
“You’re free to sit back and relax.”
“I can relax when I’m asleep.” She threw him a grin. “Right now I want to have fun.”
Well, that didn’t bode well for the control he expected to maintain.
“I thought maybe before we jumped on the freeway we could stop for something to drink and some travel snacks,” she added.
“Like water and protein bars?”
“I was thinking more like caffeine and pork cracklings.”
“I don’t even know what the hell those are.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing, boss man.”
“Clogged arteries?”
The wind blew through her hair as she tipped her head back and laughed. “I never knew you’ve been so sheltered. Guess there’s a lot I have to learn about you.”
Before his mind traveled to dangerous places, he spotted a Starbucks and pulled into the drive-thru. Along with a plain black coffee for himself, he ordered her usual latte.
“What if I wanted something different?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Do you?”
“No.” She settled deeper into the passenger seat. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m one of those girls.”
He pulled up to the drive-thru window and handed the server his credit card. Distracted by something the woman at the window was saying, he asked, “What kind is that?”
“You know . . . predictable and boring.”
Heaven help him.
“I like predictability,” he said, veering into safer waters.
She glanced at him across her bare shoulder. “Do you also like boring?”
He paused a second too long and she pounced.
“I didn’t think so. I may not know what you do in your off hours, but you don’t seem like the type to sit at home and watch reruns of Two and a Half Men.”
“Two and a half what?”
She laughed. “Do you watch TV at all?”
“Of course.”
“Let me guess.” Playfully she turned in the seat to face him. “Once Upon a Time, Game of Thrones, and Dancing with the Stars?”
“More like CNN, Bulls & Bears, and Face the Nation.”
“Boring.”
“TV should only be used as an opportunity for expanding views or education.”
“I promise I won’t tell all the porn stars you said that. Then again . . .” She crooked a brow. “Is that what kind of education you mean?”
Before he could respond she added, “Kidding! Please tell me that you at least channel surf once in a while and secretly end up watching Naked and Afraid.”
Naked and afraid. In his mind, two words that didn’t belong together.
“I’m actually familiar with that one. It’s one of Parker’s favorites.”
“Parker being brother number . . .”
“Four.”
“Ah. Well, at least he gets it.”
Oh Dec got it all right. Watching shows with naked people struggling to stay alive was supposed to broaden your horizons. But if Dec wanted to see someone naked he wanted to be the one to dirty her up. And since that thought led right to his traveling companion he allowed himself to be dragged into the subject matter. He had to. Otherwise the drive was going to be a hell of a lot longer than he needed.
“Does your choice of TV viewing have anything to do with the Fearless bracelet you wear?” he asked, handing her the caramel brûlée latte.
“Ha!” She let out a deliciously devious laugh that stirred everything behind the zipper of his jeans. “You have no idea.”
Maybe not.
But he certainly couldn’t wait to find out.
In a strictly professional sense, of course.
Brooke had to take a deep breath before she sipped her latte. Not because of the heat of the drink. Not because yesterday she thought she’d be fired. But because today she was sitting in the front seat of her incredibly gorgeous boss’s sexy convertible thinking very unbosslike things about him. Like how the sunshine gleamed in his nearly black hair. Or how the Ray-Ban sunglasses he wore made him look lickably hot. Or how nice the snug baby blue T-shirt lay across his wide shoulders and broad chest, and how the fabric rippled smoothly over what she suspected was at least a six-pack of sexy abs. Or how flawlessly the short sleeves hugged his defined biceps. Or how the well-fit jeans cupped him in places that ignited her imagination and curiosity. Or how she’d like to remove each one of those clothing items to see if beneath he wore boxers, briefs, or nothing at all.
She knew he was a runner from the countless charity marathons in which he participated. And even though he was long and lean, he didn’t have that skinny look that some runners developed. He didn’t look like a gym rat, either. So curiosity sparked at exactly how Dec developed and maintained all those finger-tempting, mouthwatering muscles.
But she digressed.
She really needed to focus on being the ever helpful assistant so that he could focus on the important things. Just because he’d given her a once-over a couple of times didn’t mean anything more than a man looking at a woman. No big deal on the grand scale of things. All those wayward thoughts in her head needed to stop.
Needed to, but most likely wouldn’t.
There was just something about him she couldn’t leave alone. Not that she expected anything from him—a raise, romance, or anything else—she just wanted to see him smile. Laugh. And learn to let go of those reins he kept so tight in his hands. She wanted his life to be enjoyable as well as successful.
She’d spent far too many years trapped in a world where a smile was perceived as a sin. To know that Dec may be caught in that same whirlpool broke her heart.
When they stopped at a gas station near the freeway, Brooke tried to sober up and cut out all the goofing off. But the utter dismay on Dec’s face made her do a complete three-sixty and end up right back where she’d started.
Determined to make him smile.
Furthering his education in the finer things of life in the snacking world was currently up at bat.
The moment they walked inside the convenience mart, Dec’s eyes went wide and Brooke quickly assumed he’d never gone farther than the gas pumps. She imagined his cupboards and refrigerator filled with healthy, boring items like kale, brown rice, and tasteless protein powder.
Time to turn things upside down.
“I can see you’re a virgin,” she said without cracking a smile.
His head snapped around and he looked at her like she was wrapped up in silly string. “Excuse me?”
“Relax, boss man. I’ve seen enough of the women you date to know you’re not that kind of virgin. I meant that you’re a convenience mart virgin.”
He looked around at the rows and rows of sinful snacks as if someone had dropped him in a galaxy far, far away. “I’ve never had a reason—or a desire—to venture inside before.”
“Yeah. I figured. No worries. I’ve got your back.”
“Really.”
“Would I steer you down the wrong path?”
His scowl told her he thought it was a definite possibility. One he didn’t want to encounter.
He was right, of course.
“First . . .” She cut her eyes across the store. “I need to mention that while those sub sandwiches in the cooler over there look innocent enough, make sure you always read the expiration date before you i
ndulge.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Don’t ask.” She waved her hand. “Shall we?”
“I think I hear your dog barking.”
“You drive a convertible, you’re parked out front, and I can see her from here. She’s not barking. And if you’ll stop dragging your feet, this will only take a minute.”
“Said the executioner to the dead man walking.”
“Ha. Good one.” She made an arc with her hands. “Did you know you can create an entire food pyramid meal in here?”
“Hard to imagine.”
“It’s true.” She led him down the closest aisle. “You can start here with the bread group. Rice Krispies treats, donuts, granola bars.”
“I don’t think granola bars drenched in chocolate count.”
“Anything drenched in chocolate counts.” She expected resistance, so to avoid losing momentum, she took off toward the next aisle. “Down this aisle we have the vegetable and meat groups.”
“Potato chips and beef jerky?”
“And don’t forget the corn nuts.” She grinned despite his persistent frown. “Over here we have the dairy section.”
Clearly ready to bolt for the door, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Let me guess, smoothies?”
“Don’t be silly. Chocolate milk and ice cream.”
“I don’t see any eggs.”
She grabbed an egg and cheese burrito from the freezer and held it up. “Voila.”
“Dangerous. And fruit?”
“I recommend you bypass the nutritious bananas at the checkout stand and go directly for the glazed apple pies.”
“You’ve really got this all figured out. Do you dine here frequently?”
“In moments of sheer desperation. At my house dining alone is an all-too-frequent matter. And cooking for one just isn’t much fun.”
“You cook?”
She shrugged. “I can hold my own with a frying pan.”
“Now there’s a chilling thought.”
“Are you always this—”
“Cautious?”
“Reluctant.”
