“Sugar is on the food pyramid.”
“It’s the smallest section on there.”
“Not on my food pyramid,” I countered.
He grinned at my reply. “Fair enough. But why don’t we get something besides sugar in your stomach?”
“Pizza?”
“Is Brusco’s still open? That used to be my favorite spot for pizza.”
“I think so. I’ve actually never eaten there though.”
“It’s the best. You’ll love it.”
“I trust you, boss.”
He winked at me and finished off his espresso. “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”
“Well, there was that one time you shoved your tongue down my throat in public.”
His eyes widened in shock. Leaning across the table, he lowered his voice to where I was the only person who could hear him. “That was before I knew we would be working together.”
“True.”
“And if I had known we were going to be coworkers, obviously, I wouldn’t have done it.”
“I know, Hunter. I’m simply giving you a hard time.”
“Is that a part of me making up for forgetting the cupcake yesterday?”
“Sure is.”
“Doesn’t today’s cupcake count at all?”
“I’m factoring it into my calculations.”
“Really?”
“Nope. I lied. You still owe me, sucker!”
I watched as he licked his lips, the expression in his green irises the mirror image of mischief. “So, Vi, what would you like me to do to make it up to you today?” he asked, grinning.
I set my chin in my palm and braced against the table. I was like a planet orbiting the sun, each revolution drawing me closer into his field of gravity. At this rate, collision was inevitable, but I had no intentions of pulling away. “What do you want to do to me?” The question slipped from my mouth before my brain had a chance to catch up. This. Man. Was. My. Boss. My life in Boston was dependent on keeping my job. So, why the hell was I all too eager to throw that away at the mere sight of him?
Personally, I blamed his smile. That thing could melt the panties off a nun.
“What?”
“What?” I lamely repeated his question in the hopes I could deflect his focus. Did I really just ask him what he wanted to do to me?
“What do I want to do to you?”
It was amazing to think of the difference a few inches could make. On the news, there were always stories of people getting shot and the bullet missing their heart or other vital organs by a few inches. As of right now, Hunter’s lips were only a few inches from mine. That miniscule amount of space was the only thing keeping the flickering flame that existed between us from transforming into a raging inferno.
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he allowed his thumb to barely graze the edge of my jaw. “You go straight for the heaviest questions, don’t you?”
“Because you weren’t thinking it?” Usually, I wasn’t so bold, but there was something about this man. He had treated me with more kindness and care in the few days I’d known him than Ted treated me in the few months we were together. And then there were the things I’d told him about my family. He listened to me and provided me with comfort when I desperately needed it. Besides Nadine and Rhonda, when was the last time someone actually cared about me?
Probably not since Mom.
Did I believe he slept around his old office? No. I’m sure he had the opportunity to, because what woman wouldn’t want to take him home and screw him into oblivion? But Hunter wasn’t a sleaze. He was a gentleman. His reputation followed him from Chicago, and I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to add more fuel to the fire. Most likely, he slept with some woman who wasn’t ready for their fun to be over, and she lashed out. That seemed like the most plausible explanation to me. I may not have known Hunter very well, but my gut was telling me the rumor about him sleeping with the wife of his former boss was simply that . . . a rumor.
“I was, but—”
“But you have a reputation to protect?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Yours.”
I took a sip of my espresso as I tried to think of the best way to reply to his statement. “Mine?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, his focus shifting to the far side of the bakery. A line of new customers stood at the counter as they looked over the amplitude of freshly made desserts waiting to be bought. “Everyone at the office knows why I left Chicago. My life is a mess, and I’d rather not be a complete piece of shit and drag you into all of that.”
“What about you?”
“My reputation is already in shambles. Nothing to really mess up there.”
His attention settled on the floor. He seemed defeated, as if he were fighting an uphill battle. I wanted to press further, to know more about all the lies and rumors that had gone down in Chicago, but I also didn’t want to push him too far. By curiosity’s standards, he could’ve forced more details out of me this morning, but he didn’t. He wanted my story, my secrets, to be revealed in a natural manner. It was only right I show him the same courtesy.
“Well, Rhonda and everyone else seem to like you. That’s what matters.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed.
When his gaze returned to me, my skin lit up like the Welcome to Vegas sign. “I wouldn’t lead you astray.”
“Definitely not.”
“So, now, Brusco’s for pizza?”
“If that’s still what you want.”
“Come on, boss, I’ll let ya buy me a slice.”
“Deal.”
We stayed at Brusco’s for over three hours, laughing and talking about all the annoying clients we’d ever had to deal with. It was fun, natural even, as if we’d hung out a thousand times before. Although I had declared I was swearing off alcohol for the evening, I did try a sip of the lager Hunter ordered. I liked that he let me sample his beer without hesitation. I’d dated a few guys in the past who guarded their food and drinks like they were the Queen of England. And that type of mentality clashed with mine. I have a ridiculous habit of sharing food with people. I’m pushy with it to the point where I’m almost force-feeding others. But I’ve done it for so long, I don’t notice anymore. When food hasn’t always been a guarantee, you want to make sure no one else has to endure that kind of struggle. If Dad wasn’t passed out in an alcohol-induced coma, he was at the liquor store. Sutton, on the other hand, bought drugs with the grocery money we rarely had. And Jasmine . . . after she hit seventeen, home was the last place she wanted to be. That left me to buy what I could from gas stations and anywhere else. At fourteen years old, I didn’t have a driver’s license, and it was hard to carry a bunch of groceries on the bus.
Nadine helped break me of a lot of the bad habits I acquired during my childhood. You’d think it’d have been harder to stop locking my bedroom door at night or waking up every hour while I slept, but once I was safe, those habits simply melted away. Instead, it was my obsessive food tendencies which lingered.
“Your face just got a really serious look to it.” Hunter’s voice cut through the silence as we walked up the sidewalk to my apartment.
“Just thinking about some things I’d forgotten.”
“I see.”
I removed my keys from my purse and unlocked the door. When I turned to face him, his hands were stuffed in his pockets. He seemed to be contemplating something. “Do you—”
“Please don’t ask me to come in,” he said, cutting me off.
His request stunned me. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re too beautiful to resist. And trust me, if I set foot in your apartment, there is nothing I’m going to be able to resist.”
“And what’s so wrong with that?”
“We both need our jobs.”
Our jobs. “Yes, we do.”
“And we both enjoy working together.”
There are other things we’d enjoy doing tog
ether.
I bit my lip as hard as I could and nodded. I sure as hell didn’t trust my mouth right now, and my brain wasn’t too far behind. Apparently, self-preservation ranked at the bottom of the list when my body was being seduced by pheromones. “I agree.”
“Thank you for letting me spend the day with you. I had a good time.”
“I should be the one thanking you.”
“Glad I could be of service.”
I smiled as I entered my apartment. “Thank you for today.”
“Anytime,” he replied. “Good night, Vi.” He waited until I was safe behind the locked door before walking away.
With a heavy sigh, I ditched my purse on the coffee table and trudged toward my bedroom. Shedding my clothes on the floor, I grabbed my favorite satin nightgown. It wasn’t like I had anyone to impress with it, but the emerald material was soft to the touch. I tugged my arms through the matching robe before making my way to the kitchen. I pulled out a single beer and carried it out to the living room.
Apparently, I needed a damn drink after all.
I was an hour into a documentary on Netflix when the doorbell rang. Pushing myself off the worn leather, I went to open the door. Figuring it was most likely Mrs. Zeke wanting to know if I could watch her cat again, I flung the door open, not even bothering to close my robe.
Boy was I wrong.
“I changed my mind.” Hunter stood on my doorstep, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. “But not in the way you think.” His gaze zeroed in on my skimpy nightgown. “I’m sorry, I should have called.”
“Don’t worry about it. What can I do for you?” I closed the ends of my robe and tied it at my waist.
“I was thinking we could talk.”
“Okay.” I ushered him inside. “What did you want to talk about?”
He locked the door behind him and leaned against it. “About what we’re doing.”
“And what are we doing?”
“I think you know.”
“Do you want to sit down?”
“Sure,” he muttered. He occupied one end of the couch while I occupied the other.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.”
I restarted the documentary to eliminate the awkward silence that had begun to fill the room around us. “So, you wanted to talk?”
“We’re both good at our jobs.”
“I think so too,” I agreed.
“I would hate for your professionalism to be called into question because of me. When I moved here, I left a lot of shit in Chicago. Shit I’d rather not revisit. Beakman gave me a second chance when a lot of people refused, and I don’t want to throw the opportunity he’s given me back in his face.”
“He’s a nice guy. I’m not surprised he gave you a second chance.”
“I just feel like it’d be wise for both of us to remain professional right now. We’re coworkers.”
While my opinion mirrored his, I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Hunter . . . was exactly what I needed. He was the kind of guy Nadine and Rhonda were both hoping I would find. And to top it off, not only did I like being around him, but he made me feel safe too. “Coworkers . . . of course. I’m the secretary and you’re the boss.”
“Well, technically speaking, you’re the boss.”
I smiled at his admission. “You learn quick.”
“I’m trying to at least.”
“I don’t think we’ll have any problems being just coworkers. What do you think?”
“I agree.”
I held out my hand to him. “Coworkers it is.”
His hand grasped mine, the heat from his flesh warming mine. “Coworkers.”
“And what about friends?”
“What do you mean?” he questioned.
“Can we be friends and coworkers?”
“Is that what you want?”
I shrugged and glanced away. “I don’t have many friends.”
“Neither do I.”
“I don’t think it can hurt,” I countered.
“I’m in if you are.”
“Okay.”
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and stood. “I should probably let you get back to watching your documentary.”
“You can stay for a bit longer if you want. You know, since we’re friends,” I whispered, moving to stand in front of him. Despite caution, and everything we’d just talked about, I still didn’t want him to leave.
The sound of someone beating on my front door broke the spell I’d been wrapped up in.
“Violet!” I jumped at the sound of his voice, terror consuming my body. “Open the door, Violet.”
Hunter’s gaze cut from me to the door in rapid succession. This hadn’t happened in almost three weeks. I wrung my hands together, wondering why tonight of all nights, Ted decided to come banging on my door.
“Two hundred feet, Ted! That is the distance you are required to keep at all times per the restraining order!” I shouted. The marks Ted had made on me may have faded, but the memory of his knuckles slamming into my cheek never would. “Now get the hell out of here before I call the cops.”
“Baby, don’t be like that.”
“I mean it, Ted!”
“You know I didn’t mean to hit you, baby.” Shock altered the features of Hunter’s face. I dropped his gaze, tears threating to pour from my eyes. Ted’s fist violently pounded the wooden door. “Open the fucking door!”
Hunter stomped toward the sound before I could hold him back. Fury wafted off him in waves. He turned the deadbolt and flung the door open so hard it crashed into the wall behind it. “I believe the lady told you to leave.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Ted asked.
Ted tried to shove his way inside, but Hunter’s hand closed around his throat. “Come here again and I’ll break your fucking neck!” Hunter’s fingers tightened painfully before tossing Ted to the ground like a rag doll. “Leave,” he seethed. “Before I change my mind and do it now.” Ted stared up at him in horror as he scrambled to his feet. I barely caught sight of him running away when Hunter slammed the door and locked it shut. Despite my efforts, tears trickled down my cheeks as he stepped toward me. “Are you okay?” I nodded my head, but quickly began shaking it instead. A pair of strong arms was the next thing my mind was able to comprehend. Those arms enveloped me, quickly halting the chill creeping up my spine. “How long?” he questioned softly.
“How long what?”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Two months,” I choked out.
He stroked my hair gently, and the gesture was the purest form of solace I’d ever experienced. “Pack a suitcase. There is no way I’m letting you stay here tonight.”
“I’m always by myself.” My tears fell in a steady stream now. “And I’m so tired of being alone.”
“You won’t be alone. You’re staying with me.”
Hunter lived on the top floor of an old industrial building on the far side of town. According to him, the one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old warehouse had been renovated and split into loft style apartments a couple years ago. The second he opened the door and motioned me inside, my jaw dropped. Exposed brick covered most of the walls, and the far right corner was made entirely of glass windows. The kitchen had granite counters and stainless steel appliances, while a nearby dining table sat beneath an iron chandelier. Behind the table stood a couple bookcases and not far from those was a leather sofa perched in front of an entertainment center. His bedroom was on the side furthest from me, next to the windows. A simple folding screen was placed next to his bed, separating it from the rest of the apartment.
“I love your place,” I said, turning to take in my surroundings.
“Thanks. I do too.” I heard him lock the metal door. When I glanced behind me, he was pressing buttons on a small console. “I set the alarm and the door is industrial grade. I promise you’ll be safe here.”
“Thank you for let
ting me stay.”
He carried my suitcase to the far side of the room and placed it on the floor next to the bed. “It’s no trouble at all.” I peeled off my leather jacket, hanging it on the edge of the folding screen. I still had on my satin nightgown, and I scooted behind the screen to remove my jeans. When I finished, I stepped closer to the windows. Lights from the city dotted the landscape in front of me, and I couldn’t help but think they looked like miniature immobile fireflies. “I’m going to take a quick shower, but make yourself at home,” Hunter said. “There is plenty of food in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
“Okay.”
While he showered, I decided to make myself a cup of hot tea. I’d just sat on top of the counter when he emerged from the bathroom. A pair of black track pants hung low around his hips as his fingers combed through his wet hair. I had a clear view of the black ink decorating his ribcage. It was a complex design of a bird and tree that continued all the way up to his left peck. The sight of it made me lick my lips. Oh the things a good looking tattoo did to me.
“Hey.”
“I just made myself a cup of tea. Would you like one?”
“I’m good, but thank you.”
I nodded and took another sip. “No problem.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, leaning against the counter.
“There isn’t much to say.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Well, what do you want to know then?”
His hands gripped the granite so hard that the color blanched from his knuckles. “H–how many times did he hurt you?”
“Just the once,” I whispered. “After it happened, I filed a restraining order and had the locks changed.” I cleared my throat, refocusing my gaze on Hunter’s face. “I promised myself a long time ago I wouldn’t let anyone touch me like that ever again.”
“Does he stop by a lot?”
“No. He’s only stopped by twice other than tonight. And he usually leaves after I threaten to call the cops.”
“Fucker,” he muttered under his breath. “Should’ve broken his jaw.”
“You did plenty.”
His stare seemed to shoot right through me. “On Monday, I’ll call the company that installed my security system and send them to your apartment. You’re not going back there without one.”
Burning Violet Page 8
