The Boss and His Cowgirl

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The Boss and His Cowgirl Page 9

by Silver James


  “You’re thinking too loudly.”

  Georgie startled and flipped over to stare at Clay. His warm brown eyes appeared sleepy and amused. And there was something she couldn’t quite identify lurking in his gaze—something that flushed her skin and made her want to snuggle up with him under the covers.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  His mouth quirked into a smile and she really wanted to lean up to kiss his lips. Before she could act on the urge, Clay cupped her cheek and tugged her closer. Their lips met, his nibbling hers before he swiped his tongue over them, teasing until she opened her mouth. His tongue dipped between her lips to taste her and Georgie almost choked. Mortified, she pulled away and put her hand over her mouth.

  Clay stared at her, clearly confused. “Sweet pea?”

  “Um...mrmingbrth.”

  “What?”

  She ducked her head and tried not to exhale when she spoke. “Morning breath.”

  His eyes widened slightly and then he guffawed. “Honey, I haven’t exactly brushed my teeth, either.” Still laughing, Clay rolled over, pinning her to the bed and kissing her soundly. Breathless, and far more aroused than she should be, Georgie pushed against his chest—ineffectually. He held her close until her arms crept around his neck and she arched closer.

  Long minutes later he raised his head. “I think we need a shower. And a toothbrush.” He winked and laughed at her outraged expression before kissing her again. “C’mon. Then I’ll buy you coffee.”

  Georgie groaned. Coffee. Up until now she hadn’t necessarily believed there could be life before coffee. Clay had definitely disproved that theory. “Yes. Caffeine. I needs it, my preciousssss.”

  Clay insisted his shower was big enough for two, and darn if it wasn’t. That built-in bench had uses Georgie had never considered. Leaving her almost too boneless to wash her hair after making love to her, Clay stepped out while she finished. It wasn’t until she was out of the shower and wearing an oversize terry-cloth robe that Georgie panicked. She peeked out the door.

  “Clay?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I don’t have any clothes here. Well...except for my formal.”

  He flashed a grin so wicked her knees threatened to buckle. “Damn. That’s too bad, sweet pea. Guess we need to head back to bed then.”

  “Clay!”

  “Mmm?”

  She threw up her hands. “Argh!”

  Laughing, he disappeared into his walk-in closet. A few moments later he reappeared wearing jeans slung low on his hips and carrying something. “You’ll probably have to roll up the sweatpants, but they should fit well enough. The shirt will swamp you but with one of my jackets over it, no one will notice.”

  “Um, can’t we just go to my place so I can change?”

  He waggled his brows. “You gonna wear my robe?”

  “Oh. Yeah. No.”

  “Get dressed, Georgie.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  She snagged her panties off the floor and ducked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Sinking onto the toilet, she fought the urge to put her head between her knees. No panicking. Yes, he was her boss. Bosses dated employees all the time. But he was a senator. And she was a senior member of his staff and...and...

  Georgie gave up when she stopped breathing. Dropping her head, she forced air into her lungs. She didn’t hear the door open and didn’t realize Clay was there until he was kneeling in front of her.

  “Sweet pea, what’s wrong?”

  “I...we...can’t...”

  “Shhh. Yes, we can. Trust me. I’ve had this argument for months now. We’re both adults. We’re both professional.” He took one of her hands in his big one and cupped her cheek with his other. “I’m going to be honest here, Georgie. I don’t do commitment.”

  Her heart sank.

  “Giselle was...convenient.”

  Georgie pressed her lips together so Clay couldn’t see them tremble and buried her free hand in the fluffy robe for the same reason.

  “You aren’t.”

  “I’m not?”

  “No. You aren’t convenient at all.”

  “Oh.” This conversation was going downhill quickly.

  “I want to be honest with you, Georgie.”

  “Ohh...kay.”

  “I can’t promise forever. Not right now. But I’d sure like to give this a try, see what happens. I...” He rocked back to sit on his heels and removed his palm from her cheek to rub it through his messy hair. “I want to see if maybe there’s a future for us. You make me want all sorts of things. I want to take care of you. Make you smile. And I damn sure want to make love to you again.”

  He gave her hand a little squeeze and waited for her to respond. She just sat there, staring. He wanted to date her? Her inner fangirl squeed and bounced in excitement before her brain caught up. This was wrong on so many levels, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to take care of her. To explore the feelings blossoming between them. That was the message she received from his words, from the expression on his face—a face she knew so intimately because she’d studied it, working with him to add nuance to the words she wrote for him. The man was a spectacular speaker, but this was no act. Please, she whispered up to the universe. Let it be real. Let this...us...be real.

  “Okay.”

  He arched a brow at her. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he replied drily.

  Before she stopped to think about it, she cupped his face in her palms, leaned forward and kissed him. She focused all her feelings, all the pent-up hopes and dreams of a nerdy young woman yearning for something—someone—she never thought she’d have a chance with.

  When they finally broke the breathless kiss, Clay laughed softly. “Yeah, that’s more like it. Now get dressed. I need coffee.”

  He rose and backed out, shutting the door. Georgie found her panties and pulled them on before yanking on the sweats. She had to roll the waist of the pants after tying the drawstring as tight as she could. The thing still rode low on her generous hips, but she was pretty sure they wouldn’t fall off. The long-sleeved henley covered the jerry-rigged waistline.

  It wasn’t until she walked out that another thought hit. “Shoes.” With a disgruntled curl of her lip, she added, “I can’t very well wear my heels to the local coffee shop.”

  “Yeah, I can see how wearing those with sweats might not go over with the fashion police.”

  Georgie stared at him then blinked several times. “Fashion police?”

  Glancing toward the ceiling, Clay exhaled deeply. “I spent way too much time around Giselle. Then again, she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing my sweats.”

  Georgie cringed at his words and hunched her shoulders.

  “Which is stupid because I think it’s sexy as hell.”

  Well, didn’t that just perk her right up. She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. “Well, I spend most of my life in fashion jail but I’m revolting simply because those suckers hurt my feet.”

  Clay ducked out, calling over his shoulder, “Wait...”

  Following him out, Georgie watched him trot downstairs and heard him rummaging around. He reappeared with a pair of rain boots in his hands.

  “Aha! I thought I remembered you’d left these over here. I’ll get socks for you to wear.” He climbed the steps, tossed her the boots and headed into the bedroom.

  She followed, her brows knit in consternation. “Are you sure these are mine? I don’t remember leaving them here.” In fact, she didn’t remember the boots at all.

  He peered at her from the closet. “Pretty sure those are yours. The only other woman who’s been over here is Giselle and she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing those.”

  Georgie’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?
” She caught the pair of socks he threw with one hand. “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “Too practical. And they don’t carry a designer label.”

  Clay studied her expression for a long moment then strode across the room, a second pair of socks in his hand. He dropped the socks into one of the boots and cupped his fingers over her shoulders. “Let me explain, sweet pea. Giselle is a sports car—built for speed and high maintenance. You? You’re a Ford pickup, built for comfort and long distance.” He kissed her before she could protest. “And trust me, this Oklahoma boy will come home to comfort every time. Now put your boots on. I want coffee and food. You wore me out last night.”

  He disappeared downstairs before she could process what he’d said. A truck? He compared her to a truck? And called her...comfortable. Georgie sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on his socks. He’d been smart to give her two pairs of socks. The galoshes were made to be worn over shoes. She needed the extra padding. Clomping down the stairs, she found Clay standing by the front door, holding up a jacket. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and was surprised when he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  “I meant that as a compliment, sweet pea.” He murmured the words, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him. “Don’t get bent out of shape. Yes, Giselle is beautiful in her way but when it comes down to what’s important? I’m picking you.”

  “You are?”

  “I am.” He turned her, his hands rubbing up and down her arms as he gazed at her. His expression was both bemused and sincere. “You’ve been here right under my nose and I’ve been too stupid to recognize what I had. Have. Because you’re here. I have you. And I want to keep you.”

  “You do?”

  Clay threw his head back and laughed. “For a woman who makes her living with words, you’ve become rather...reticent.”

  “I have?”

  He kissed her forehead, turned her toward the door and gave her a nudge. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m a bit blown away by this turn of events, too.”

  “You are?”

  “You’re repeating yourself, sweet pea.”

  Georgie planted her feet and twisted her head to look at him. “Clay, I need to be honest here.”

  His eyes shuttered but he didn’t interrupt her.

  “I’m...this...us...” She inhaled, held her breath and exhaled, but her hands still shook as she turned and reached out to touch his chest. “I’ve had a crush...”

  “I know, Georgie.”

  “You do?”

  “Well, I know now. I guess Boone saw it all along. He was just waiting for me to pull my head out and realize what a treasure you are. Professionally, yes, I knew that, but I have the feeling that—” He snapped his jaw shut and his eyes cut away from her.

  “What feeling, Clay?”

  “You’re real, Georgie. And I find myself needing a whole lot of that—of you—in my life. Is this forever? I don’t know. We’ve just started this—” He gestured between them with his hand. “Whatever this is. I care about you. As a friend and now as something...more. I can’t make promises to you. Not yet. But damn if I don’t want to give this my best shot.”

  Everything she’d wished for and then some was standing right here in front of her. All she had to do was acknowledge her feelings. She stretched up on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Me, too.”

  Clay exhaled on a relieved laugh. “Can we go eat now?”

  Feeling lighter and happier than she had in ages, she preceded him out the door. As they exited the security gate separating his yard from the sidewalk, Georgie looked up and recoiled, stumbling backward. Clay caught her in his arms and held her steady.

  “Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

  Ten

  They’d been ambushed by Parker Grace. With a catty smile, the reporter drawled, “Fancy meeting the two of you coming out of the senator’s home the morning after you appear together at a state dinner. Lovely sweats you have on, Georgeanne, but then you’ve never been known for your fashion sense.”

  Georgie needed to remember to be careful what she wished for. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. Caught red-handed by the one woman who could create a maelstrom in the press and more problems for Clay’s upcoming presidential bid than Georgie could shake a stick at. Her mind spun like slick tires in a mud pit. She had no response, no story spin to give the nosy reporter to make this look like something other than it was. Before her brain could engage, Clay squeezed her arm.

  “Reduced to skulking now, Parker?”

  The woman glared at him, a portrait of righteous indignation. “No. I just happened to be walking past.”

  Her excuse was flimsy and they all knew it. Georgie opened her mouth to explain away her presence, but Clay’s hand gripped her shoulder. “Well, I’ll make it easy for you, Parker. Georgie and I are headed to the Daily Grind for coffee and muffins. No, you aren’t invited to join us. But if you hurry, you might be able to get a cameraman over there to catch two colleagues sipping coffee and stuffing blueberry muffins into our mouths.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Clay urged Georgie away, hand now on her back. At the end of the block, Georgie glanced over her shoulder. Parker, cell phone glued to her ear, stared after them.

  “You shouldn’t encourage her.”

  “Probably not.” Clay pulled her to a stop and gazed at her. She blinked up at him owlishly. “Where are your glasses?”

  She shrugged and dug the toe of her boot into the sidewalk. “I didn’t have room for them in this.” She pulled out the ridiculously small beaded bag Jen had loaned her.

  “Can you see anything?”

  “Sure.” Her gaze shifted sideways. “Well, sort of. Up close anyway.”

  “Good. You’ll have to rely on me.” He didn’t even try to hide the pleased grin. “Now, about Parker. It’s rather fun to jerk her chain.”

  “She’s a shark, Clay.”

  “Not even close. A barracuda maybe. A small one.” He started walking and tugged Georgie along with him. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  Now it was her turn to stop and tug him back. “Are you serious? I’d think it was the other way around!”

  He arched a brow, daring her to continue. She sputtered for a moment, flustered.

  “I am serious, Georgie. I thought I’d made myself clear on this point. I want to date you.”

  Her face blanched and she gulped in air.

  “Breathe, Georgie. I don’t have a paper bag.”

  “Will. Not. Hyperventilate.”

  “Good. Look, I don’t want to stress you out, but you know me. Once I make up my mind, I don’t do things halfway.” Her snorting giggle brought him up short.

  “Clay, other than Giselle, you’ve never dated the same woman longer than a month.”

  “Well, that’s true. But none of them were you.”

  He wanted to laugh when she sucked in a breath, beyond flustered now. Instead, he pulled her against his chest and rubbed his hands down her back. “As far as you and I are concerned, my name is officially out of the dating pool, Georgie. At least while we are committed to this relationship. We’ll take things a day at a time.”

  “But...the campaign. And...and...”

  “And what? You are an intelligent, articulate and very sexy woman.” That statement got another giggle and snort as she pushed away and glanced down at her baggy sweats. His baggy sweats, and didn’t it just turn him on that she was wearing his clothes? Maybe he should call to have food delivered so he could take Georgie back to bed. Then his stomach rumbled. He would ensure his fridge and cabinets were stocked from now on, though, so every morning they woke up at his place, they could have breakfast in bed.

  They continued walking for a couple of blo
cks, neither speaking. On the sidewalk outside the coffee shop, Clay halted and faced Georgie. “We’ll work around things if someone discovers we have a relationship beyond work. Okay?”

  Her eyes glittered as she nodded slowly. “Are you sure? I mean, plausible deniability—”

  Clay silenced her with a finger over her lips. “Stop. Right there. If this leaks, I don’t want to hide you, Georgie. That’s not who I am.” He dropped his hand and waited. This was make-or-break for him. If their relationship became common knowledge, he refused to skulk in shadows. In his position, hiding anything from the press or the public was a bad idea. Part of him wanted to throw caution to the wind, but the practical, political side counseled discretion. As Georgie had said, “Plausible deniability.”

  “Are you with me, Georgie?”

  A smile struggled to form on her face as she squared her shoulders. “Yes, Clay.”

  “Good. Now I’m starved and if my brain doesn’t get caffeine soon, it’s going on strike.” He pulled the heavy glass door open and ushered her into the softly lit shop.

  Once they were seated at a table for two near the front windows, Clay studied her, noting how she fidgeted and looked everywhere but at him. If he had less ego, he might be worried, but he had two advantages. He was a Barron and he knew Georgie. She edged toward reticence but she wasn’t afraid to speak up in defense of an idea. They’d had some passionate debates over the years and to see her flustered was a real treat. This meant he’d gotten to her. He still had some reservations, despite Boone’s pushing, yet sitting here with Georgie felt right.

  As a rule, he considered the consequences before making a move, and this whole thing felt reckless. Yet after spending the night with Georgie, he wondered why it had taken him so long to realize what Boone had known all along. Georgie was perfect for him. Smart, politically savvy, sweet in a charmingly real way and fantastic in bed. Oh, yes, they were definitely compatible in that regard. He should have guessed given her fire when they discussed the issues.

  As he watched, she pulled out her phone and read the screen. Her thumbs flew as she texted back. A stab of jealousy twisted in his gut. The ping of his own phone distracted him. He tapped the accept call button and put the phone to his ear.

 

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