“I see.”
“I’m glad, because Wendy deserves this, more than you or Jay. You’ll just have to overcome your male ego to accept that.”
Luke shook his head. “My ego has nothing to do with this, and yours shouldn’t either.”
Resting her palms on the arms of the chair, she pinned him with a cold stare. “Watch what you say to me. In my eyes, men like you are easily dispensable, and your golf buddies on the board will back me if I make enough noise. Are we clear?”
As a frickin’ bell. Luke nodded. “Are we done with this conversation? I still have a few things I’d like to wrap up before I leave and really don’t have time for all this…chitchat.”
She cocked a brow as she stood, then moved toward the door. “I’m out of town most of next week, but I’m sure I’ll see you at Peter’s cocktail party next Saturday,” she said over her shoulder pads. “I know you wouldn’t want to miss any brown-nosing opportunities.”
Luke let her have the final word. He wanted her out of his office, needed to think, to process all the bullshit she’d dropped on him.
Running a hand his through hair, he swiveled his chair and stared out the window. At the ugly dumpster and the stupid bus stop. So much for that plush office on the thirtieth floor, the country club membership, bonus and pay hike. If he remained stuck in this position, he couldn’t afford to keep his condo now that he’d committed to purchasing Darci’s house. That sucked. His condo was paid for and he’d already found someone to lease the damned thing. The rent money would have gone toward the remodeling the old Victorian home needed, new furniture, and the overhaul he’d been putting off for his boat.
“Damn it,” he muttered, spun the chair toward the desk, and accidentally knocked the file he’d been reviewing. The papers scattered and a few dropped to the floor. Swearing, he picked them up, then a name, scrawled in the middle of one of the pages captured his attention. With a frown he stood, then spread the other papers across his desk.
He shook his head. “No way.”
“No way, what?” Jay asked as he stepped into the office.
Luke sifted through the file until he found what he was looking for, the Benson company organizational chart from four years ago. “Take a look at this and this,” he said without looking up, and slid the papers to the center of the desk.
Jay stood next to him, then immediately pointed a finger at one of the pages. “That’s Wendy’s signature.” He picked up the chart. “I didn’t know she used to work for Benson Steel & Fabricating.”
“Neither did I,” Luke said, then released a frustrated sigh.
“She was in charge of inventory,” Jay said as he set the chart on the desk. “Why wouldn’t she have mentioned this? She knew you were working the Benson account and could’ve offered some input.”
Luke began stacking the papers. “Because I have a feeling she’s the reason over three hundred thousand dollars is unaccounted for.”
“But Benson’s CFO would have caught her mistake.”
“Unless he just signed off on it without checking her work, which would be plain stupid. Wendy had to have been fresh out of college when she took the position with Benson.”
Jay adjusted his glasses. “What are you going to do?”
“Review this again, and if I’m right, I’ll have to tell Margie Benson. She’ll need to know her CFO isn’t as thorough as he needs to be. His and Wendy’s errors might mean Benson will have to file a reinstatement, which could potentially cause a problem with the company’s shareholders.”
“What about Gwen?” Jay darted his eyes to the door. “Wendy’s her golden child.”
After the way Gwen had told him Wendy would obtain the promotion he’d deserved, he wanted nothing more than to rub this bit of info into her smug face. Doing so might not only end up making him look like a disgruntled bastard, but making this huge, monetary mistake known might also sully Wendy’s reputation within the firm.
“Like I said, I need to make sure I’m right on this. Wendy was green when she’d worked for Benson and if she did make these mistakes, I put the majority of the blame on Margie’s CFO.”
As Luke reached under the desk for his briefcase, Jay said, “If word about this leaked to the board, there’s no way Wendy will be offered any promotion. Not at this point, anyway.”
He knew that. Wendy would be screwed and her work scrutinized. “Let’s keep this between us. I need to be one hundred percent right before I do anything.”
“You got it,” Jay said and headed for the door. He paused and turned. “Now I know why Wendy’s not going to Peter’s party.”
Luke frowned. “You think she’s realized her mistakes and is afraid of seeing Margie again?”
“Makes sense,” he said with a shrug. “You coming in tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, I’ll need to. I won’t be able to take a look at the Benson file tonight.”
“Another hot date?” Jay asked with a grin.
Luke shoved his laptop into the briefcase. After last night, he had no idea where he stood with Jenna, or how she’d react to him today. His stomach knotted, while the beginnings of a headache pierced his temples with a slow, dull pound.
He could deal with losing the promotion. There were a multitude of other opportunities at Dryscal & Myers, or maybe he’d even entertain a position elsewhere.
But he couldn’t deal with losing Jenna. Not when he’d just found her.
Grabbing the handles of the briefcase, Luke turned to Jay. “I hope so.”
Chapter 6
Tool box in hand and his stomach twisting in knots, Luke approached Jenna’s front porch. While the Benson account, Wendy, and his chance of losing the promotion had him on edge, the thought of losing Jenna was worse than any of those things. If she kicked his ass straight to the curb, it would hurt like hell. He loved her. Her blunt attitude, how she saw things in black and white, but struggled with the grays. He loved her faults, loved that she accepted his. But most of all, he loved that she was his friend…his best friend.
Nate had always had his back, but what he shared with Jenna was different. He could reveal private things guys just didn’t share with other guys. He liked that — scratch that — he loved that. Being able to, for the first time in his life, open up and share all the bullshit festering inside of him without having to worry about losing face, gave him security and confidence.
Too bad he lacked that security and confidence right not. Not knowing how she’d react to seeing him had his heart stuttering, his head pounding, and sweat dripping down his back.
Drawing in a deep breath, he tightened his hand around the metal handle of the tool box, then knocked on the door.
Within seconds, the door opened and he had to mask his surprise. Jenna had done a complete three-sixty compared to last night. Not an ounce of make-up covered her face. Not one curl bobbed in her straight ponytail. She looked gorgeous, natural and breathtaking, even in a t-shirt and running shorts. She’d looked just as beautiful last night, dressed for seduction, but right now, at this moment, she was more alluring.This was the real Jenna…the woman he’d fallen in love with.
“Hi,” she said, and locked her eyes on his. They weren’t gold or bronze, but twinkled with an unusual shade of olive green, and an emotion he couldn’t name.
“How are you?” he replied, but didn’t move through the door. At this point he didn’t know what to say or how to act. Should he pretend as if nothing had happened last night? Or should he bring up the whole thing?
She rested her back against the door. “I promise I won’t bite.” She sent him a teasing smile. “Come on in, did you get my text?”
After he’d left the office, he’d stopped by his condo to change into a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, and gather what he needed to repair Jenna’s curtain rods. While he stuffed a change of clothes into a gym bag, with the hope that she’d still let him take her out tonight, Jenna had sent him a text message letting him know she owned a ladder. “Yeah, if you
’ll tell me where it is, I can —”
“It’s in the bedroom.”
“I could’ve carried it into —”
“No big deal,” she interrupted him again. “How do you think I managed to hang those things in the first place?”
Point taken, he stepped into the house and let her lead him to the bedroom.
“See,” she said and waved her arm toward the ladder. “I set it up for you. I figured the quicker you took care of this mess, the sooner we could head out. How long do you think this will take?”
Relief settled his queasy stomach. With the way she’d dressed, he’d worried she wouldn’t want to follow through with their plans for tonight.
Setting the tool box near the ladder he said, “No more than thirty minutes or so.” He eyed the silver duct tape. “Did you take some of the tape off?”
“Well, I thought I’d help you out a bit. And you know,” she said, and looked at the window. “You were right. I didn’t need all those layers. It stayed secure with only two.” She glanced at him with a hint of apology and maybe regret.
No doubt she referred to what he’d said last night. At the time, he hadn’t been sure if she’d caught his play on words, but knew now that she had. “Jenna —”
“I’ll let you get at it. I need to go online and pay a few bills.” She paused at the door. “Can I bring you something, a beer, water, soda?”
Why did she keep interrupting him? Was she afraid he’d bring up last night? He would, eventually. But he’d planned on taking baby steps. “A beer would be great.” A beer would be fantastic after the day he’d had.
“Comin’ right up,” she said with a smile, then left the room.
Once she walked out the door, he went to work. The sooner he finished the repairs he needed to make, the sooner they could head for dinner and the comedy club.
While he removed the remainder of the tape, then pried the nails still secured at the other end of the curtain rod, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. About last night or about what had happened today at the office.
After removing the curtain rod from the wall, he grabbed the level, then climbed the ladder, wondering again how one day he could feel on top of the world, and the next like mildew at the bottom of a toilet bowl. He’d finally found a woman he could love, and now had no idea where he stood with her. He’d thought he had the promotion to partnership in the bag, and now there was a chance he could lose the opportunity. On top of it all, he quite possibly held Wendy’s reputation and career in his hands.
The thought of losing Jenna upset him the most. He could find a new job, and keep silent about Wendy, but he couldn’t let Jenna walk out of his life. Not without telling her how he felt, or having the opportunity to explore how far things between them could go if she’d just give him the chance. Man, the places he’d love to explore. Those long legs…he’d caressed them the day they were on the boat, swore he could still taste her on his tongue. But he wanted more. Wanted those legs wrapped around his back. Wanted to bury himself between her thighs until —
What the hell was wrong with him? He should be focusing on how to fix their relationship, not fantasizing about every which way he wanted her, especially when sex had become the obvious source of their issues.
“Damn,” he muttered and held the level against the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked as she sauntered into the bedroom carrying a beer.
His arousal twitched at the sound of her voice. “Nothing, I have everything under control,” he said, then looked down at his jeans. He had nothing under control, there was no hiding his body’s reaction to her, and he moved to make sure he and his tenting jeans faced the window.
“If you say so.”
He looked over his shoulder and caught her smile. He loved that smile, how sexy she looked leaning against the door frame holding a beer. Something inside him flared and burned. Made him want to jump off the ladder and strip her out of her t-shirt and running shorts.
Palms sweaty, he forced his gaze back to the plaster wall and tightened his grip on the level. As he tried to concentrate, he caught a whiff of her wildflower scent. He looked down, and somehow managed to hold the level steady. She’d moved next to the ladder. Stood too close, the side of her face, especially her lips, inches from his groin.
“Hmmm,” she hummed as she set the beer on the nightstand. “That’s an interesting tool. I’m assuming you know what to do with it.”
Even though he knew she referred to the level and nothis “tool,” with her mouth inches away from fulfilling what could have happened last night, blood surged to his cock. He tore the pencil from his mouth and marked several lines above the level. “Trust me,” he said. “I know exactly how to handle my tool.” He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, but he questioned her motives, and now questioned his own.
With the way she looked at him, a hint of gold twinkling in her eyes, he knew in his gut she was trying to seduce him again. Everything he’d said last night had meant nothing to her, and while knowing that tore him in two, a part of him no longer gave a rat’s ass. If she didn’t feel anything more for him other than a friend she’d like to fuck, what did he care? He’d had plenty of meaningless sex and could do it again. Take her against the wall. Wrap her legs around his waist and pound into her until he satisfied his lust without an ounce of guilt.
Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew sex with Jenna wouldn’t be meaningless, it would be making love.
“Oh.” She blew her bangs from her face, tightened her slack pony tail, then tossed it over her shoulder. The movement forced her breasts to thrust forward, and her elbow brushed his thigh. “I never used one of those before.” She sent him a quick smile. “Need any help?”
He needed one thing and one thing alone. Help with the frickin’ curtain rod wasn’t it. He laid the level on the top rack of the ladder then wiped his palms on his jeans. “You could hand me that drill.” He nodded to the Black & Decker on the floor.
As she bent at the waist, the wide neck of her loose t-shirt gaped open and rewarded him a mouthwatering view. Black lace covered her breasts and had him dying to know if her panties matched.
She caught his gaze as she raised the drill to him and cocked a brow. Her lips curved in a sensual smile that had him convinced the casual clothes, and lack of make-up, were all a ploy. A ruse to lull him into thinking what he’d said last night had actually registered. Yeah, he was on to her. But did he have enough willpower to deny his own hunger?
“Is something wrong?” she asked. “You seem…crabby.”
“I’m not crabby. I’m frustrated.” Sexually frustrated. He’d remained celibate for nearly five months and had a gorgeous seductress standing in front of him. “I had a shit day at work.”
Widening her eyes, she looked to the floor, then drew circles in the carpet with her bare toes, painted fire engine red and sexy as hell. “Is that all your frustrated about?”
He couldn’t do this, talk about last night, or even work for that matter. Pissed and feeling like everyone around him was yanking his chain, he worried if he broached the subject he’d say all the wrong things.
“Yep,” he said and placed the tip of the drill to the mark he’d made on the wall. He braced the bit then pressed the trigger. The drill came alive, humming and spiraling. Satisfied with the hole he’d made, he brushed off the dust then looked to Jenna. A cute little L puckered between her eyebrows as she stared at the wall.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She shrugged and shook her head. “I’m just wondering why you’re going through all that? Just nail the sucker up there. That’s what I did.”
“Which is why your curtains are more lopsided than a three legged dog.”
Her raspy laugh sent shock waves straight to his cock. “You got me there,” she said and moved closer.
Another inch and she could yank down his zipper with her teeth. The quick image caused blood to drain from his head and travel south. He willed his
dick to behave, cleared his throat and placed the tip of the drill bit to the plaster wall.
As he pulled the trigger, he tried to think about something, anything to keep the fly of his jeans from bursting. From letting her know she had him harder than the nails he’d pulled out of the wall. He couldn’t give in to her, not after all he’d said last night.
Except all he could think about was her mouth, the hot drag of her tongue, the way she’d taken him between her lips. His cock grew harder. Even with the AC, and the ceiling fan on high, sweat moistened his forehead. She’d said she wouldn’t bite, but he knew otherwise. Loved the way she’d nipped at his lips. Had almost lost it last night when she’d tugged at his boxers with her teeth.
“Could you please hand me those brackets?” he asked and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
She moved toward the corner of the room where he’d left the hardware for the curtain rod. “These over here?”
He nodded and released a heavy sigh. Thankful her tempting mouth was no longer inches from his crotch.
With her back to him, she bent at the waist again. Her shorts hitched, giving him a fantastic view of her tight ass. Remembering how her bottom felt nestled against him last night as they’d stood in front of the mirror, how firm and sexy it looked in a bikini, had him pressing on his arousal before she turned.
“Here you go,” she said and held his hand as she poured the hardware into his palm.
If anyone else had been watching, they’d think nothing of the way she’d given him the brackets. But he knew otherwise. She held his hand longer than necessary, wrapped her palm underneath, then slid her fingers over his wrist and forearm in a light caress. Calculated seduction at its best and he refused to fall for it. He couldn’t. If he gave in, everything he’d said last night would be meaningless.
Brackets and screws in hand, he clenched his jaw and went back to work. From his peripheral vision, he caught her watching. She’d moved back to where she stood before — right in front of his crotch — and that little L creased her brow again.
“Okay, I get it,” she said and placed her hands on her hips. “This explains why the one rod in my living room keeps sagging, too. I shouldn’t have just nailed it, huh?”
Kiss Me Page 8
