“It all used to belong to my grandparents,” I say. “They gave me this house.”
He nods while looking at the grandfather clock. “Nice.”
When my friend Trista visited from Honolulu last year, she said no one our age keeps a grandfather clock. I wasn’t embarrassed about it then, but I am now. I wish I could snap my fingers and make the outdated floral-patterned living room set and shellacked brown coffee table all go away.
We’re standing at the door, and the silence is awkward. Funny, but my living room seems too small for him.
I rub my hands together. “I forgot to set the heater.”
Nolan looks so uncomfortable. “It is rather chilly in here.”
“I’ll build a fire. That’ll help.”
He perks up. “Oh? How about I do that for you?”
I’m stunned by his offer. “Well, okay. I’ll go get the matches. But would you like a drink? Something to warm you up?”
Nolan blows into his hands. “Thanks for offering, but I’ll just start this fire and get back to my car.”
“I understand,” I say as I scurry off to the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing steady as I go. I can’t read too much into this. He’s simply a chivalrous guy. I search through the drawer near the sink until I find the matches. Once they’re in my hand, I squeeze the box tightly, reminding myself that this afternoon with Nolan Patrick actually happened. I hurry back into the living room, he’s squatting in front of the fireplace, positioning the wood. He’s taken off his coat, and he looks so relaxed. Just for a second, I wonder how it would feel to have him lie on top of me. Only for a second or two.
I hold out the matches. “Here you go.” Our fingers touch, and my heart skips a beat. I’m sure he didn’t feel all the excitement I felt.
Nolan takes the matches. “Thank you.”
One match is all it takes for him to start the fire. I usually go through four or five before I can get it going.
He stands once the fire is purring nicely. “There.” He hands me the matches, and this time, I make sure we don’t touch.
“Wow, I truly appreciate this. It’s not often your boss makes you a fire.”
Nolan chuckles at my sad attempt at a joke. He takes his coat off the couch and puts it on. “There’s a first time for everything.”
I walk him to the door, but he opens it before I can.
“Well, drive safely,” I say. It feels as if we should kiss or something.
He lifts a hand. “See you on Monday morning.”
“Bright and early,” I say.
We smile at each other one final time before he heads down the steps. He passes the neighbor kid, who’s finally made his way to my house.
I close the door and fall on the sofa to gather my bearings. What an afternoon. I have no plans for the weekend. I wish Nolan wasn’t my boss and he would’ve asked me out to a movie or something. He makes my loins throb. My panties are embarrassingly damp at the moment.
Finally, I take off my coat and boots and sit back and close my eyes. A beverage would be nice, but I can’t decide what I want to drink. Instead of deciding, I let my thoughts paint pictures of Nolan pounding the hell out of me in my bed. Then his tongue does laps around my nipples, down my sternum, and…wait. I didn’t like the way he did that. We skipped a step. His tongue laps around my other nipple then back to the one he left wet. He moans, loving the taste. My insides pulsate, turning wetter. Two fingers slide in and out of my milky thickness. His thumb smashes against my pleasure spot and circles it. I’m coming… coming…
Knock—knock—knock.
I gasp and open my eyes.
There’s someone at the door.
“Shit.” I look down at my crotch. I’ve gotten myself all worked up.
It must be the neighbor kid leaving his invoice. He doesn’t like carrying cash, so we all have to drop off our payments in the mail-slot in his mother’s door. One snowy month, I owed him a whopping one hundred fifty bucks.
I open the door, and to my surprise, it’s Nolan.
“Hey?” I say.
“I’m plowed in for a while. Do you mind if I stay here and keep warm until I can get out?”
There’s the face of the man I just imagined doing dirty things to me. I want to crawl in my skin and hide, but instead I put on a smile. “Sure.”
He ruffles his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” I say in a high-pitched voice. Oh God. I think I might hyperventilate. I get control of myself and open the door wider. “I mean, yes, please come on in.”
His eyes gravitate toward the fire, and he holds his hands up. “It’s not too hot.”
I finally realize that I must look red and flushed. He probably thinks I’m suffering from heat stroke.
“Hey, would you like a drink while you wait?” I ask.
“Sure, what do you have?”
“Coke, coffee, hot chocolate, brandy—”
“I’ll take that,” he says.
“Brandy?”
“Yes.”
I smile and shamelessly bat my eyelashes. “Two brandies coming up. Just make yourself comfortable—again.” On the way to the kitchen, I get a grip and smack myself in the forehead. “He’s your boss, Abby. Jeez.” There, that did it.
I take the finely aged brandy out of the cupboard and pour two glasses. The liquor smells divine. When I make it back to the living room, he’s made himself comfortable on the couch. I hand him the drink and sit across from him.
Nolan takes a sip. “This is good.”
“Perfectly aged,” I say and take a sip.
“Are you a wine drinker?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, but this bottle used to belong to my grandfather. He only drank the good stuff.”
“Oh?” He sounds intrigued.
“Yeah, this entire house was theirs. They willed it to me.” I see the questions behind his expression. “They didn’t die at the same time. He died first and then…” I close my eyes and take a drink.
“And then?” Nolan asks.
“And then she died two years later. I always thought she died of a broken heart. They really loved each other.” I look around the room, remembering how when they were alive, they filled the space with their spirit. “This whole house is filled with love. That’s why I could never leave it.”
I feel as if I’m talking too much. Apparently all it takes is one guzzle to alter my mental state.
“Have you ever wanted to leave the area?” Nolan asks.
“Millions of times.”
His gaze rolls around the room. “And this house is the reason you’ve stayed?”
I look at the mantel above the fireplace. My grandparents’ pictures used to be lined up across it. I took them down a few years ago. The heartache they caused was too much to bear. “Partially. No.” I sigh. “Yes.”
“If you could go somewhere else, where would it be?”
I’m shocked that he’s interested enough to ask these questions. I haven’t given the answer much thought in recent years.
I shrug. “The winters make me dream of warm places like Hawaii or California, but I always wanted to work at the Art Institute in Chicago. But, I mean, they have pretty bad winters there too.” I hate giving him rambling answers, but instead of putting the brandy down, I take another drink.
“That’s right—you graduated from the University of Ohio with a degree in art history.”
My mouth falls open. “How did you know that?”
He smiles a little. “You’re my executive assistant, so I read your employee file.”
I think about the gap between executive assistant for a holdings company and curator for a museum. “I’m way off track, aren’t I?”
The brandy has me feeling sorry for myself. I set the glass on the coffee table and snuggle up against the couch.
Nolan sets his almost-empty glass on the table and scoots to the edge of sofa, thereby moving closer to me. “You’re young and beautiful. You can always put yourse
lf back on track.”
I grunt. “So is this the point where you say that I’m fired.”
He laughs and gets comfortable. “I’m not going to fire you, Abby.”
My head is twirling, and my tongue feels loose. “Well you shouldn’t. I’m a damn good assistant so…” I nod. “If you fire me, then you’ll regret it in the morning.”
“I’ll never regret anything that I do with you,” he says.
My eyes grow wide. My pulse is racing. I try to ignore that suggestive look in his eyes. I mean, is Nolan Patrick coming on to me? I close my eyes and shake my head. The answer is no way. I squeeze my eyes tighter. I’m seeing things. That’s what happens when I drink brandy.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I take a few deep breaths. “I think the brandy may be a little too strong. I didn’t eat lunch today.”
He grunts. “That was my fault. I should’ve made sure you took lunch.”
I study him with furrowed brows. Is Nolan really that concerned about my missing a meal?
He’s about to say something else when there’s a stern knock at the door. My eyes widen as I wonder who could it be.
Nolan observes my expression. “I’ll get it.”
I nod
and watch his tall, sexy figure walk to my door. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a man like him open my door, our door, every day and sleep in our bed? It’s been forever since I lusted over a man in this way. I’m losing my mind. Nolan opens the door.
“We’ve cleared everything out,” an officer says.
“Thanks, Officer,” Nolan says.
“You want to get on it and get home before the second storm hits. The roads won’t be plowed again until tomorrow morning.”
Nolan looks back at me. I’m sure he notices the lost look in my eyes. I had hoped he could stay a little longer and answer the questions I have for him.
“Right,” Nolan says.
I rise to my feet and try not to tumble over. Nolan closes the door, and here he comes. It feels as if we should kiss good-bye or something. If he wants to kiss, or do something else, I’m so game.
He’s smiling. “Get some rest when I’m gone?”
It takes a moment for me to register that he’s asked a question. “Oh, yes, definitely.” I sound jumpy.
His smile broadens. “Aged brandy can be pretty strong.”
I grin. “Yeah, it’s probably the best way to hear the life according to Abby.”
He chuckles. We stare into each other’s eyes. It’s rare to see eyes so blue. His five o’clock shadow has grown more pronounced. What supple lips he has. Please kiss me.
“See you on Monday?” he says.
Oh. That was a question. “Unless the rapture comes or something.”
He laughs out loud. Oh gosh, what did I just say? Sometimes I can go too far with the bad jokes, especially when I’m a little tipsy.
I pull myself together. “I mean, yes, I’ll see you on Monday.”
He’s still studying me with a smile. My heart is beating so fast and hard that I wonder if he can hear it or not.
“Have a good night, Abby.” Nolan hasn’t moved an inch.
“You too.”
Finally he walks to the door. I’m about to get up, but he points at me.
“Sit,” he says. “I don’t want you to tumble over and hit the floor.”
I sit back down. We give each other one last lingering smile before he opens the door and walks out. Now that he’s gone, I fall back on the sofa.
“Oh my goodness.” What just happened between us?
4
The weekend passes with my nerves all ablaze. When I wake up on Monday morning, I still can’t get Nolan Patrick out of my head. It seems as if I have to remind myself every random second that yes, he’s as gorgeous as the day is long, but, “Abby Banks, he’s your boss.”
I throw on a turtleneck sweater and gray slacks. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder if it’s enough. I’ve never questioned whether or not I put on the right outfit for work. I wonder why I’m concerned now. I see that picture of Nolan sitting on my sofa, watching me as if he’s picking me apart. I shake the image out of my head and remind myself for perhaps the millionth time that he’s my boss.
I grab my keys, the Greek salad I packed for lunch, and head into the garage. Nolan’s mechanic looked at my car then had a tow truck drop off my car over the weekend. When he brought my car back, the mechanic said I’d needed an alternator and they happened to have a spare in stock. They replaced the part, and now it’s purring like new.
The snow stopped late last night, giving the plows enough time to get everything clear. Everyone will be coming into the office this morning, so I leave early. I want to get some things taken care of before it gets too busy.
I make it to work in no time. I make some coffee, prepare myself a cup, return to my desk, and spark up my computer. Nolan has sent me an email with a list of tasks he wants me to get done today, which includes scheduling a meeting between him and all of the real estate agents for each region, having accounting provide him with an annual assets and profits report, and scheduling a meeting with him and Joe, the company lawyer. He wants them done A.S.A.P.
I’m in the middle of completing those tasks when I receive a call from Liza’s husband.
I pick up the receiver. “Hello, John.”
“Is Nolan in?”
I’m taken aback by his gruff tone. “No, not yet.”
He doesn’t even say good-bye. He just hangs up.
I look at the receiver in my hand. “Okay.” I put the phone down.
I’m not too surprised by his behavior. He’s been known to behave like an asshole every other day or so. I never knew what Liza saw in that jerk. Once he came in here screaming about some account that Liza took his name off of. They closed the door to her office, but they were talking so loudly that I could hear Liza explain that it was a business account and his name shouldn’t have been attached to it. Then he lowered his voice and kept arguing. I don’t think he won that battle though, because not long afterward, he came stomping out of her office. What a dick.
I keep my head down and work until I finish everything Nolan’s asked of me and more. Suddenly a scent that I’ve grown to crave fills my nostrils. I look up as Nolan sweeps past me.
He stops at his office door. “Good morning, Abby.” His tone is lackluster.
I’m caught in a state of awe. The way his suit fits his toned frame would make any woman’s mouth water. Looking at him is enough to give me a reality check. He’s so out of my league, so I snap out of it and shoot to my feet.
“Good morning, Nolan,” I say. “I've got your calendar and action items ready to go.”
He nods approvingly. “Give me five minutes.” He goes into his office and closes the door.
I sit back down and pick up some documents that I think Nolan may need. I know the papers are in order, but I shuffle them anyway. I realize I'm thinking about those times when I spent one evening with a guy and it felt great, then the next day he acted as if I didn't even exist.
I look at the clock above my desk. Two minutes to go. My line buzzes, and I jump, startled. I pick up the phone. Before I can say anything, Nolan tells me that he’s ready for me to come into his office.
I shake the tension out of my shoulders, enter his office, and sit across from him. My posture is erect. Everything about me says that I'm ready, even though inside, I'm trembling.
“Have you seen the email I sent you?” he says.
I open my folder and keep my eyes pinned to the page. “Yes, I have. I’ve taken care of it all.” I try to concentrate on what I’ve written. Right now, the letters and numbers look indecipherable. “By the way, John called.”
“John? Liza’s husband?” He sounds surprised.
“Yes.”
His entire face collapses into a frown. “What did he want?”
“I don’t know. He just hung up.”
“Well…” He takes a deep
breath and looks at me with softer eyes. “If he can’t leave a message, then fuck him…” He winks. “Right?”
I drop my face bashfully. “Right.”
“And listen, Abby, John has nothing to do with our business here. He’s just my sister’s husband. That’s it. If he calls here asking for a file or a client’s phone number or anything at all, give him nothing and tell him to talk to me personally.”
“Of course.” I’m not surprised he doesn’t like John and wants to keep him away from the business.
Nolan and I finish going over the rest of the action items, which ends up being more action items after we discuss them. When we’re done, we smile at each other. I’ve already convinced myself that there’s nothing romantic going on between us.
“Thanks, Abby,” Nolan says.
“You’re welcome.”
“It’s clear we make a great team,” he says.
Jeez, I can’t stop myself from blushing. “Thanks.”
It’s later in the day, and I’ve just finished eating my salad at my desk. I’ve made a lot of headway with my work. I send Nolan the updated calendar, make copies of contracts and reports, and send them out to the appropriate parties. I’ve also returned a number of phone calls to answer questions that I don’t need to bother Nolan with. I take a moment to rub my tired eyes and hear Nolan’s office door open.
“You worked a hell of a long day,” he says.
I take my hands away from my eyes and focus on his deliciousness. “We both have.”
He does that thing with his mouth where I can’t tell if it’s a smile or not, but it’s a pleasant expression. “How’s your car running?”
Just thinking about what he’s done for me makes my smile grow wider. “It’s running perfectly! You have a good mechanic.” I reach for my purse, which is in the bottom drawer of my desk. “How much do I owe you?”
He lifts a hand. “You’re already paying me back.”
I wonder if I just saw what I thought I saw—Nolan glanced at my chest before looking me in the eyes. I get a look at my breasts when I finish taking my purse out of the drawer. Oh shoot, my nipples are poking my sweater through my bra. So he was looking at my chest.
The Boss' Desire (Her Perfect Man Contemporary Romance) Page 3
