Stolen Kisses with Her Boss

by Susan Carlisle

  Sean picked up a tomato. Placing it on the board, he sliced it. He wasn’t about to let on that he didn’t know what he was doing. Cynthia opened the oven and the aroma made his stomach growl. The sooner he had this salad finished, the sooner they could eat. As he continued to chop she set the table.

  “Here’s a bowl for that.” Cynthia set a glass one on the counter next to him, then she flitted away again.

  “Thanks.” Sean continued to chop. He felt surprisingly comfortable spending time on something as domestic as preparing a meal. It had been so long since he’d been in a home where that was done. Really since he had left his parents as an eighteen-year-old. For some reason he was thinking of them far more often after meeting Cynthia and her brothers.

  A few minutes later she asked, “Are you about done there?”

  “I didn’t know I had a time limit. Damn!” Sean jerked his hand back. Looking down, he saw blood dripping from the end of his thumb.

  Cynthia was at his side instantly. “What’ve you done? Let me see.” She snatched a dish towel off a hook attached to the cabinet. Wrapping her hand around his wrist, she raised it above his heart and covered his thumb with the towel.

  His finger throbbed with every beat of his heart and his stomach roiled. This sort of cut was far worse pain-wise than the type he made in surgery.

  “You look a little green,” Cynthia said. “Come over here and sit down.” She led him to a chair at the table, still holding his hand in the air.

  Sean gladly sat.

  “Mark,” Cynthia called, urgency evident in her voice.

  Seconds later there was the sound of feet hurrying down the hall. Mark came into the kitchen.

  “Get me the first-aid kit out from under the sink in my bath,” she instructed.

  “What happened?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  She lifted the towel and looked at the thumb. “Sean cut himself. Now go.”

  Mark left.

  Cynthia turned back to Sean. “I need to look at this and see how bad it is. You may need stitches.”

  Sean winced as she finished removing the rag and air hit the wound. He watched her face as she studied his thumb. Her nose wrinkled up and her lips drew into a tight line. “Who would have thought a surgeon wouldn’t be able to handle a knife?” There was a note of humor in her tone but she said it with a straight face.

  That remark didn’t make him feel any better. “Is that your best bedside manner?”

  She recovered his finger and looked at him, saying sweetly, “I’m sorry. Does it hurt terribly?”

  His look met hers. “Actually, at the risk of sounding less than manly, it does.”

  “I’m sorry.” Compassion covered her face and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get you cleaned up and you should be fine. It’s not too deep or long.” Her attention turned to Mark as he put the first-aid box on the table then left. “Thanks,” she called. To Sean she said, “I want you to apply pressure here while I wet some gauze to clean you up.”

  “You do realize I’m a doctor, don’t you?” At least with her so close he was starting to think about other things than the throbbing of his thumb.

  “Right now you’re my patient.” She opened the box and pulled out a couple of packages of square gauze. Tearing the paper, she removed them, dropping the covering on the table. “Come over to the sink.” She moved there and ran water over the gauze. He joined her. She handed him the square that had been folded in half. “You hold this.”

  Sean took it and watched as she removed the towel. Carefully she cleaned around the injury.

  “At least it doesn’t require stitches.” She sounded satisfied. “I’ll disinfect it and bandage it well. You should be fine.” Cynthia met his look. “This won’t prevent you from doing surgery, will it?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m not scheduled until the day after tomorrow and it should be healing well by then.”

  “Good.” She truly seemed relieved. “I’d hate for you to have to move your surgery schedule around because I had you making a salad. Put that gauze over the opening and go back to the table. I’m going to get the roast out so we don’t have a fire on top of a cut hand. I’ll cover that in just a sec.”

  Sean returned to his chair, glad his stomach had settled. He was embarrassed enough; if he’d passed out it would’ve been worse. He didn’t mind other people’s blood but had never liked the sight of his own.

  Cynthia was beside him seconds later. Using a Betadine swab, she cleaned around the cut, applied an antibacterial ointment and placed a clean gauze pad over the area and taped it.

  Impressed, he remarked, “You’re really quite good at this. When do you plan to return to school? Good nurses are always needed.”

  “I’ve got to see the boys get through school and are on their way.” She didn’t slow down as she spoke.

  Sean looked at the top of her head in disbelief. “Boys? They’re young men, you know. I think you underestimate them.”

  “You don’t understand.” By her tone she was firmly dismissing the subject.

  He didn’t understand. It was as if she was hiding behind her brothers. Didn’t want to move on. Wasn’t accepting her parents had died. That her brothers were growing out of needing her attention all the time. That she had a life too that she should be living.

  Cynthia cleaned up the first-aid kit and pushed it aside. She smiled at him. “Now, if you’re through creating pre-dinner drama I’ll get our food on the table.”

  Sean smiled weakly. “Please don’t let me stand in the way. I’m hungry and that roast smells wonderful. I’ll finish the salad.”

  She put a hand on his shoulder when he started to stand. “You stay right there. I’ll do it. By the way, I saw that green look on your face. Was that the look of a surgeon who doesn’t like the sight of blood?”

  “Thanks for making an already embarrassing situation even more so,” he grumbled. “Actually other people’s blood doesn’t bother me, just my own.”

  She grinned. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Cyn, when are we going to eat?” Rick asked from the doorway.

  “In just a few minutes. Help me get everything on the table,” Cynthia said without slowing her movements.

  Just minutes later Mark joined them. “How’s the finger?”

  “I’ll live,” Sean said as he turned in his chair and put his leg beneath the table. He wouldn’t admit that it was still throbbing.

  Rick came to sit beside him. Mark helped put bowls of food on the table and took a chair, leaving the one closest to Sean for Cynthia. Soon she slipped into it.

  Sean didn’t want to count the number of years it had been since he’d sat at a kitchen table and had a family meal. Cynthia said a short prayer then said to him, “Hand me your plate and I’ll serve you. It’s too hot and heavy to pass.”

  Cynthia filled his plate with meat, potatoes, carrots and onions and handed the plate back to him. She did the same for her brothers.

  “Rick, pass that corn around.” She picked up the rolls and offered them to Sean.

  He took one and passed the dish along. Not until everyone had a full plate did Cynthia pick up her fork and start eating. Was she always seeing about everyone else? Sean had never seen a less self-centered person.

  Sean couldn’t believe how wonderful the tender roast tasted as well as the other food. Despite his earlier stomach distress, he loved the meal. He’d been missing a part of life he hadn’t realized he’d lost. “Mmm. This is the best.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you think so.” Cynthia smiled at him. “The meat came from an internet mail-order company. I think it’s excellent quality. I have a friend who sells it. She wants me to join the company. To make money or get free products all I have to do is to get others to join. That shouldn’t be too hard
. The product sells itself.”

  Sean flinched and almost choked on his food. Where had he heard those words before? They sounded suspiciously like something his parents would be involved in. Just another get-rich-quick scheme. He didn’t want to have anything to do with that type of thing. Or someone who was doing it. He worked to keep his voice even. How was he going to comment? He couldn’t say: why would you want to do that? He settled on, “I’m not a fan of those types of deals.”

  Cynthia gave him an inquiring look. “Why’s that?”

  “Because they often don’t pan out as advertised. It also takes time to get people to join. I would think you have enough going on.”

  “If the money was good I would make time. I think it’d be easy enough to sell. The food is good.” Cynthia took a forkful of corn. “Would you like to be my first customer?” She looked at him. “Sign up under me?”

  How was he going to answer that question nicely? There was no way he would get involved even for her. “No, thank you. I don’t eat at home enough to make it worth my while.”

  “I guess your lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to cooking much.”

  Somehow that made him sound sort of sad. “Maybe what I need to do is just come here more often.” Sean smiled at her, then her brothers.

  She looked directly at him. “Maybe we can work something out.”

  Sean glanced at her brothers to find them grinning and elbowing each other. They were enjoying his and Cynthia’s exchange. “So, Rick, how’s the basketball going?”

  The teen almost choked on his drink he had just picked up. “Pretty good. I think we have a real chance to make the playoffs this year.”

  “That sounds great. And have you seen Ann Marie?” Sean asked.

  Rick’s face took on a red tint before he looked down at his plate.

  “Isn’t that the girl that got hurt at your birthday party?” Mark asked, looking to all of them for an answer.

  “Yes. But she isn’t just some girl,” Rick said, pointing his fork at his brother.

  Mark gave him a teasing look and said in a singsong voice, “Rick’s got a girlfriend.”

  “Shut up, Mark. You’re just jealous no one’ll look at your ugly mug,” Rick snapped back.

  “Boys, that’s enough. Sean doesn’t want to hear all that,” Cynthia said, as if she refereed regularly.

  Cynthia really did act as if she were the boys’ parent instead of their sister. Couldn’t she see they were all grown up? Or was she afraid to let go? Sean said, “I don’t mind. My older brother treated me the same way.”

  They all quieted as they continued eating their meal. Mark’s phone rang and he picked it up.

  “You know there are no phones at meals,” Cynthia said as he touched the screen to answer.

  “I need to get this. It might be about a new job I applied for today.” He slid out of the chair.

  Cynthia didn’t look pleased as she watched Mark leave the room.

  Minutes later he returned with excitement written all over his face and pumping the air. “I got the job. I got the job.” He slid into the chair again, almost vibrating with excitement. “It’s full time. I’m going to be working at Action Auto.”

  “That’s great, but won’t that be hard to handle with school?” Cynthia asked.

  Sean gave her a speculative look. Wasn’t she glad he had gotten a job? It looked as if she would appreciate his help with the finances. Sean had been brought up in a household where anyone who had a steady job was unusual. Except for him. He’d handled work and school. Had been the first to take on a job when he’d been old enough. It was something that his parents couldn’t do. Cynthia should be proud of Mark.

  “I told you I wasn’t going back to school next semester,” Mark almost snarled.

  “Mama and Daddy wanted you to go to school,” Cynthia insisted.

  Mark leaned across the table. “They’re not here. And they wanted you to go too.”

  Cynthia appeared stricken. “We should honor their wishes. You know I plan to go back.”

  “Then you go instead of me. For right now I’m going to work.” Mark pushed his chair back and stood. “I’ve got to get things together for tomorrow. Thanks for dinner.”

  Sean hurt for Cynthia, could see her unhappiness. As if her world were dissolving around her.

  She looked at him. “I’m sorry, Sean. This isn’t how we were raised to treat a guest.”

  “It’s okay. Dinner and entertainment. That’s more than I usually have on a Sunday evening. I’m not complaining.”

  That got a ghost of a smile out of her. “Thanks for understanding.”

  Rick’s chair screeched as he pushed it back. “I’ve got a project to work on. See y’all later.”

  Sean looked at Cynthia and smiled. “I guess that leaves us doing the dishes.”

  “I’m sorry the evening turned into a family feud. It seems that I’ll owe you another meal to make up for this one.” Cynthia rose from the table.

  “That works out perfectly for me. How about dinner Friday night? I’ll pick you up at seven.” Sean wasn’t sure about Cynthia being involved in a selling pyramid scheme or her over-devotion to her brothers, but he couldn’t resist getting to know her better. Regardless of their differences, he found her interesting and sincere. He just plain old-fashioned liked her. It wasn’t as if they’d ever become involved enough to marry but he did like her company.

  Cynthia carried the roast beef platter to the kitchen counter. “I’m supposed to be the one doing a meal for you.”

  “Next time. This time I want to take you out.” Sean picked up two bowls and followed her to the kitchen counter.

  “That sounds like fun. Let me take care of cleaning up. I don’t want you to accidentally hit your thumb.”

  “I’m not an invalid. I can at least carry things to you.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he returned to the table and picked up a bowl. “Do Rick and Mark ever help with cleaning up? After all, you do the cooking.”

  She squirted dish liquid into the sink. “Not really. They have a lot going on.”

  “More than you? I’d think the three people could split the work three ways,” Sean commented as he added another plate to the dishwasher.

  Tension filled the air between them. Had he said too much? Sounded too critical?

  Cynthia didn’t say anything and continued to clean.

  “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.” Sean hoped to get them back to teasing each other as they had been before dinner.

  She shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  Somehow Sean didn’t believe that.

  A quarter of an hour later they were finished cleaning and the air between them had been easy.

  “So what did you bring to work on tonight?” she asked.

  “Do you mind helping me with that organization we talked about earlier? I’m not feeling good about this grant application at all.”

  “Get your stuff. Bring it over here to the table and we’ll have a look.” Cynthia became all business.

  Sean went after his bag that was still where he’d left it near the door. “Okay. Maybe with your help tonight I can make some real progress on this mess.”

  * * *

  They spread the papers out across the table. Cynthia went to get her laptop from her office while he opened his. She returned and sat next to him. She smelled of home cooking, a hint of gardenia and something that could only be her scent alone.

  Sean leaned just a little closer as they reviewed side by side the contents on their screens. For the next two hours they worked diligently trying to organize reports in a logical format. They were careful to make note of any missing support material.

  Finally, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms up over his head, yawning
. “I think this is in a better form than I have seen it in weeks. I owe that to you.” His arm came down around her shoulders and he gave her a squeeze. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  * * *

  She looked directly at him. “I know you’re going to make a big difference in many people’s lives. It gives me a good feeling to be a part of that. Even in a small way.”

  “That’s one of the things I like about you. Your concern for other people. Your help won’t have been in a small way if I get that grant,” he said as he stood.

  “You’ll get it.”

  * * *

  He liked her vote of confidence too. Here she was supporting his work when he couldn’t do the same with her thoughts on selling online food. Somehow it didn’t seem right. Still, he couldn’t support what he knew from experience was a bad idea. When was the last time he’d really had someone in his corner like this? He could get used to it. With a hand on her shoulder, he quickly responded, “Thanks for everything. The meal and the help. I’d better go. I have an early case in the morning.”

  Cynthia helped him gather the papers from the table. He put them in his bag along with his laptop. She walked him to the door.

  He put his bag on the floor. “You know, I really enjoyed tonight.”

  “Even with all the blood and family fireworks?” She grinned at him.

  “For the first time in a long time I had a meal with a real family. I know better than most that family meals can often be a little tough to live through. More than one of my family’s was.”

  She nodded. “I appreciate your understanding.”

  He glanced down the hall fully expecting one of her brothers to come around the corner. Every time he attempted to kiss her they were interrupted. This time he didn’t care whether someone saw them or not. “Did I say thank you for patching up my thumb?”

  “You did.” She looked at him with those questioning eyes. “More than once.”

  “But I don’t think I did it properly.” Sean slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her to him. She didn’t back away. Instead she came to him willingly. His heart beat faster. Cynthia wanted him to kiss her. His mouth found hers warm and welcoming. She came closer, bringing her body to meet his, hands moving up to the nape of his neck. It didn’t require much coaxing for her to part her lips. Her tongue shyly touched his before she joined him in the hottest kiss of his life. He pulled her tighter against him. With a moan edged with regret, she placed both her hands on his shoulders and pushed away.