Page 23 of My Sexy Boss
He chuckled and shook his head. “I haven’t been since that night you chewed my ass out. I’m too damn busy with the business.”
“Trust me, you’ll find the balance. I know I did.”
“So you’re a ‘work hard, play hard’ type?” He reached over to put one of the knives away, and for a split second our hands connected. Something seized up in my chest at his touch. He drew his hand away quickly, as though he’d felt it too, and I struggled to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound like garbled nonsense. I wanted to touch him again, but I clenched the dishrag and focused on drying the pots.
“Mostly play hard, work hungover,” I replied.
His laugh warmed me and made me smile. “I’ll keep an eye on you Monday mornings. Maybe put a cup of coffee and a bottle of aspirin on your desk.”
“That would be appreciated.” I traced my teeth across my bottom lip. Right at that moment, I wanted to touch him, to lean across the counter and brush my fingers along the stubble on his jaw, to see if it felt as rough as it looked.
He glanced up at me and our eyes met once again. I swallowed and took a step toward him as he took one toward me, our gazes never wavering. It was like some unstoppable force of nature drew me closer to him, wasn’t going to let me escape him—
“How are you guys getting on?” Natalie’s voice broke through our heated haze.
“Good,” we both replied, and then Trace walked away from the sink.
I nodded to the diminishing pile of pots and pans. “I just have a couple more to dry.”
“Oh, don’t worry about drying those. Leave them to air-dry and the people coming in the morning will put them away. It’s late, and you’ve done more than your share. You can head out.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
Trace undid his apron and pulled it off over his head, bringing some of his shirt up with it, exposing his well-defined V and a trail of light brown hair that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans.Holy shit.He pulled down his shirt and it hugged his body oh-so-perfectly.
Dragging my eyes away, I turned around and fumbled with my apron.
“Here, let me.” His hands suddenly covered mine and, for the second time that night, I felt my skin tingle all over just from his touch.How pathetic! I really need to get laid.With his body so close to mine and the wicked scent of his aftershave swimming around me, it was all I could do to keep from whirling around and collapsing in his arms.
After he undid the apron strings, he didn’t step away. Instead, he lingered as though he was feeling everything I was. “We make a good team in the kitchen,” he said in a low voice, his warm breath fanning over the back of my neck. Then his fingers lightly traced the small vine tattoo I had there. “I didn’t think you’d have a tattoo. I like it.” His forefinger stroked the small rosebuds on the vine.
My head spun and I grabbed the counter to steady myself. I was acting like a fool. He was my boss, had dumped my friend,andwas a bastard to women, according to him. So why the hell was I wishing he’d grasp my shoulders, spin me around, and kiss all the breath out of me?
I picked up a clean cup and squirted some dish soap into it, then began scrubbing it like it had mud caked on it.
His deep chuckle hit me between the legs. “I don’t think you’re going to get it any cleaner than it is.”
Feeling silly, I rinsed it and stepped sideways, trying to avoid bumping into him. When I turned around, he was leaning against the island, a bemused smile twitching on his lips.The bastard knows the impact he has on me.As if to dislodge him from my thoughts, I shook my head, then pulled off the hairnet and tossed it into the trash. My hair spilling around my shoulders, I raked my fingers through it and glanced at Trace. Lust laced his eyes and he crossed his arms.
“Are you trying to get my ass in hot water?” His jaw clenched.
“What do you mean?” I really had no idea what he was talking about, but by the way he was looking at my hair, I figured the way I was touching it was doing something to him. I guessed he thought I was trying to be seductive, but I was just trying to get the tangles out of my hair.
For several seconds we stood staring at each other, the sexual tension crackling between us, and then Natalie burst into the room and the intense moment we shared was gone. Heat burned my neck and face, and I knew dark red streaks painted my cheeks. Not wanting Trace to see, I headed for the spot where I’d dumped my jacket and scarf when I came through the door four hours before.
“Thanks for your help this evening.” Natalie smiled widely at me, and I returned it. Then I rushed to the door, needing to get out of there before I made a total ass of myself.
Glancing behind my shoulder, I said, “I’ll be back again soon.” When I reached the door and was at a safe distance from Trace, I stopped and turned around. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk you to your car. This neighborhood isn’t very safe.” He nodded to Natalie and took a few steps toward me.
“No!” I yelled out, cringing at the startled looks on his and Natalie’s faces. “I mean I’m good. I can manage. See you.” I ran out of there like a madwoman, feeling his eyes on me. A sketchy guy began to approach me, but I blasted past him and slipped into my car. I was more afraid of how Trace had made me feel than I was of a guy who could very well be a serial killer.Crazy. Get a grip!
When I saw Trace come into the parking lot, I switched on the ignition and sped away. He was probably wondering if he had a lunatic working for him, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t go where my body wanted to go. I just couldn’t. Besides, he hadn’t given me any indication he wanted to go there. Sure, he flirted with me, but that’s what men and women did. It didn’t mean squat.
As I saw an SUV swoop in and take the perfect parking space in front of my building, I cursed as I drove around the building numerous times. Finally securing a place four blocks away, I walked up the hill to my apartment building. Tilting my head back, I looked at the gray clouds, and when I felt drops of water on my face, I hastened my pace. It was even colder than it had been before, but that time it was welcomed, a freezing shower to rid my mind of all the thoughts that had been burning through it.
By the time I arrived at my building, I was soaked and shivering. I took the elevator to my floor, changed out of the wet clothes, made a cup of hot chocolate, and lay down on the couch, the Sherpa blanket my sister had given me for Christmas tucked under my chin. Images on the television flickered as I stared vacantly at it. I didn’t want to think of anything, just wanted to get warm and let my eyes seal shut as I drifted off to the escape of sleep.
