by Whitley Cox
He was sending her some very odd signals.
Were they signals at all? Or was she reading into things way too much?
He nodded. “Awesome, thanks. I have a big meeting today and want to look sharp. If it goes well, I might become an adjunct professor at the university med school.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond before turning back around and heading to his room down the hall. Once again, whistling that tune. Once again giving her a chance to watch those gorgeous globes of his ass bunch and flex with each long stride.
Ah crap. The dirty thoughts were back, and they were dirtier than ever.
Hello, Professor Herron. I’ve been a bad girl. My assignment is going to be late. I’ve been up all night studying for my anatomy exam. Is there anything I can do? Perhaps some extra credit?
Fuck.
She needed more batteries.
7
Tori’s stomach grumbled as she stood over the stove and flipped Gabe’s grilled cheese sandwich in the pan. She wasn’t sure if she should make Gabe dinner or not. If Mark was bringing home Thai food for himself, the chance was slim Gabe would be interested in any of it. Maybe the rice, but even that was a long shot. So, hoping that she wasn’t overstepping, she decided to make Gabe a grilled cheese sandwich, slipping in some pureed butternut squash with the cheese and dipping the bread in an egg wash to add an extra bit of protein. She’d made this for Gabe before and he’d devoured it, even making the ASL sign for more once he was finished.
They’d had a good day. Gabe had still seemed really tired most of the day, but he remained in high spirits with her, enjoying the play center, the bakery and the aquarium. Tori had treated them to a mini cupcake each, telling Gabe it was her birthday and that a birthday just wasn’t a birthday without cake. He’d smiled like he understood and got icing all over his face.
Humming the same tune Mark had been humming that morning, she turned the stove down and rocked her hips back and forth. Her mind was all over the place as fantasies about Mark flitted in and out, followed by what she should have for dinner. She’d been craving Thai food all day since talking about it with Mark, but she couldn’t afford takeout and knew she didn’t have the ingredients in her pantry to make anything special. Her sister wanted to take her out for dinner Saturday, which was tomorrow, but they always went to the Sea Shanty for all-you-can-eat prawns when it was her or her sister’s birthday. All you can eat prawns for thirty bucks a person—who wouldn’t eat until they were sick?
Her parents had given her money for her birthday. Maybe she should stop at Siam I Am and grab a panang. It wouldn’t dip that much into her nest egg. And if she made her own rice, she could save three dollars, and it would probably feed her for lunch tomorrow.
Her mouth watered.
It was her birthday. She deserved a bit of a treat. She’d been scrimping and saving like a miser these past few weeks, grateful that Mark fed her dinner because it was one less meal she had to spend money on. She could afford a thirteen-dollar panang. And maybe a spring roll or two. You only turned twenty-eight once.
The door from the garage slammed, and the sound of Gabe’s feet running full-bore for his father echoed into the kitchen.
“Hey, buddy. Did you have a good day? Help me carry these?”
She didn’t bother to turn around but heard their footsteps approaching the kitchen, the rustle of bags mixed with the sound of the grilled cheese sizzling in the pan.
More rustling sounds and suddenly Gabe was at her side, thrusting an enormous bouquet of flowers toward her.
She turned off the stove and flipped the sandwich out onto a plate before bending down and turning to him. “What’s this?”
“Happy birthday!” Mark cheered, coming up behind Gabe with a fancy-looking gift bag in his hand.
Tori’s eyes went wide. “What? How did you know?”
His smile was lopsided and drop-dead sexy. “Your resume.”
Duh! This man knocked her off her game. He knocked her flat on her ass.
He thrust the gift bag toward her. “For you.”
She shook her head. “You really didn’t have to. I didn’t say anything this morning because it’s not a big deal. Not a milestone or anything. Just another day, another year.”
Another year closer to death. And she was probably going to die alone.
Wow! That was a dark thought.
“And I grabbed enough food from Siam I Am to feed an army, so go help Gabe wash up while I get everything ready.”
Her mouth hung open. Nobody, not even Ken, had ever surprised her like this for her birthday. Sure, her parents celebrated her birth, but that was different. No boyfriends, and definitely not her husband, had really ever given a damn about her turning another year older, even though she always went over the top for theirs.
She clenched her jaw and cleared her throat, the powerful emotions making it touch to swallow. She would not cry. “Thank you,” she finally said, thought it came out as more of a croak.
His smile was the best birthday present. It didn’t matter what was in the bag. That smile was enough to keep her going for an entire three hundred and sixty-five more days. She took the flowers from Gabe. “Thank you, buddy. They’re gorgeous. Let’s go wash up.” Then she took his hand, placed the bouquet on the kitchen table and led him to the half bathroom just off the kitchen, wondering what kind of good karmic act she’d done in a previous life to get a boss like Mark Herron.
“He’s about to fall asleep in his cupcake,” Mark joked, leaning back in his chair at the kitchen table and resisting the urge to unbutton his pants. “Little dude, you all done?” He made the ASL sign for all done.
Gabe mimicked it, albeit sleepily.
Victory! He hadn’t signed back to his father in ages. Whatever Tori was doing with him was working.
Mark grinned. “More for me.” Using his fork, he stabbed the half-eaten red velvet cheesecake cupcake from his son’s plate and tugged the plate across the table. “You were right. These things are good. Like addictively so.”
Tori’s bright eyes glimmered, and her smile lit up the entire room. “I told you so. We may have already gone to the bakery and had mini cupcakes earlier today. I told him a birthday wasn’t a birthday without some kind of cake, and I didn’t expect to be getting one today, so I figured why not? Hope you don’t mind?”
He shrugged. “Not at all. I’m not that strict. It’s a special day. Go crazy.” He shoveled the rest of the cupcake into his mouth and let the sugar take him into a bit of an awake coma. Damn that was good. An extra mile on his Sunday run good, but worth it.
“Thank you very much again, Mark, for the dinner, flowers and cupcakes. You really didn’t have to. I haven’t been working for you that long. It’s too much.”
She knotted her fingers in her lap, struggling to keep eye contact with him, a habit she tended to do when nervous.
Why was she nervous?
Did he make her nervous?
What kind of nervous did he make her?
“You were exactly what we needed at the right time, Tori. This is just my small way of saying thank you. In just the few short weeks you’ve been with Gabe, he’s come leaps and bounds. So thank you.” Her modest smile and the color that filled her cheeks made his insides twist and his cock spring to life in his pants. “And here, one more thing … ” He pushed the gift bag toward her. She hadn’t opened it yet.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she placed the bag on her lap and pulled the bright blue tissue paper out of the top. She peered inside. A gasp stole past her lips. Her eyes flew up to his. “Mark … you really shouldn’t have.”
Well, it was either this or edible underwear, so …
She pulled out a year’s supply of her cream of Earl Grey tea. He knew she knew how much it was, and the answer was—not cheap. But that didn’t matter. It was the look in her eyes and the smile on her face that made every penny worth it.
“How did you know?” She opened up the tin and inhaled deeply, shutting her eye
s and letting the rich aroma of black tea and bergamot fill her lungs.
“You mentioned the other day that you had finished your supply, and the way you savored your final cup told me it was something special.”
Her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. “I used to drink Earl Grey with my grandmother. It was the only tea she would drink. And she only drank the expensive loose-leaf stuff. She gave me her favorite teacup, teapot and her entire tea stash when she passed away. That was the last of her tea that day. I was heartbroken, so thank you.”
Could this woman get any more amazing?
Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and Mark could have sworn something passed between them.
Had he done too much? Did she think he was inappropriate?
Their moment was broken by Gabe’s head slipping off his hand and nearly hitting the table.
Crap. Right, his kid.
He shook his head and pushed away from the table. “I’m going to get him bathed and in bed.” He scooped Gabe up and carried him off toward the bathroom.
“I’ll clean up.”
Then, like a married couple, they went about their business as if they did this every night. He took care of the kid, and she cleaned up dinner.
Domestic bliss.
But it wasn’t. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
She was not Gabe’s mother. She was not his wife.
She was his employee.
Fuck, it was a slippery slope with her, though. She made his life so easy. Made liking her so easy.
Would everything with her be this easy?
What do you mean everything?
Tori nudged the dishwasher closed with her knee and turned back to the sink just as Mark wandered back into the kitchen. “Little man is out.”
“Oh, to fall asleep that quickly and soundly.”
“I know, right? Takes me ages to fall asleep, what with all the thoughts rattling around in my brain.”
Tori put her head down and slipped her hands into the warm soapy water and began scrubbing the frying pan she used to grill Gabe’s sandwich. It seemed as though it was taking her longer and longer to fall asleep each night too. Mostly because the thoughts and fantasies that filled her mind were most active as she lay there staring up at the ceiling in nothing but her T-shirt and underwear. Thoughts and fantasies about Mark. About what an amazing man he was.
An amazing father.
A shirtless photo of him and Gabe at the beach was up in their hallway, and Tori found herself staring at it far too often. All chiseled gorgeousness. Perfection in a six-foot-four package. And oh, what a package. At least from what she could tell … after grabbing Gabe’s toy magnifying glass and inspecting Mark’s crotch region in his boardshorts a tad more in depth. What a package indeed.
No, she wasn’t obsessed at all.
He’d fueled her fantasies, her daydreams, her night dreams and all the moments in between. The thought of his lips, his tongue, his hands, his body were what kept her awake at night, kept her hand drifting down her torso as her imagination ran wild. Until her fingers found their way beneath the elastic of her underwear, past the thin strip of hair and into the slick, pulsing heat of her pussy.
When she took the job, she knew it would be difficult to work for such an attractive man, but what she hadn’t realized was just how hard it would be. And each day she spent with Mark and Gabe, watched him interact with his son, dote on him, devote himself entirely to the little boy, she realized she wasn’t just attracted to Mark. She was falling for him.
The past few weeks had been like a dream. They’d all fallen into a happy little routine. She arrived in the morning to pick Gabe up and take him to school. There was happy banter as she sat at the kitchen table with them, had a cup of tea and watched them eat breakfast. Then she took Gabe to school, texting pictures and updates of him all day to Mark. Once home, she and Gabe would have a snack and then either walk to swimming lessons or the park, or one of his therapists would come by for an hour. Mark arrived home around six o’clock, and the three of them had dinner together. Then Mark helped Gabe have a bath, read him a story and put him to bed while Tori did the dishes, tidied up and prepped meals for the next day.
She knew she was going above and beyond her job description, but she didn’t mind. She liked being in the house with them. Liked being a part of their world, of their lives. It was certainly better than being alone in a home that wasn’t even her own, eating a Caesar salad with chicken in front of the television or one of the two dozen frozen soups or casseroles her mother had sent her home with after Christmas. Mark seemed appreciative for the company, as well as the help. Some nights he appeared dead on his feet when he arrived home, and the smile that erupted on his face the first time Tori told him she’d made dinner was enough to melt her insides and keep her dreaming for days after.
He gave her a friendly nudge, sidling up next to her in front of the sink. He grabbed the tea towel from off her shoulder and began to dry.
She swallowed. Things between them had been changing over the last few weeks. Maybe it was all in her head, or wishful thinking, but the looks she caught Mark giving her and the way he joked and managed to find multiple opportunities to be close to her made her believe it wasn’t just one-sided. It wasn’t all in her head.
He felt it too.
The attraction.
The chemistry.
The desire.
And what was up with him showering her with gifts, dinner and dessert for her birthday? Did he do that for all of Gabe’s intervention therapists?
You’re overthinking again …
“So what’s on the docket for the weekend?” he asked.
“Not much. My sister and I are grabbing dinner at the Sea Shanty tomorrow night for my birthday.”
“All you can eat prawns?”
“You know it! And I have a few modules from the online class I need to get through, then an online class discussion, which is annoying because it’s live and as I’m typing a question, so are ten other students, and I’m trying to follow along and then lose my train of thought and end up deleting my question.”
His warm chuckle swept across her skin like a summer breeze, comforting and welcome. “I hope you have at least something fun planned as well, besides dinner with your sister. You know what they say, ‘All work and no play makes Tori … ’”
“The same as before?”
He elbowed her. “No. All work and no play makes Tori go crazy. Don’t study your life away. Make time for fun.”
She puffed her cheeks out and exhaled slowly.
Fun.
Fun?
The last fun she had had been the night she met Mark. Her “Goodbye, Ken” party.
“Yeah, and what do you do for fun?” She hadn’t meant for that last word to come out as provocative as it had.
He huffed a laugh. “Not enough.”
Oh, Mama. Tori certainly knew what she’d like to do for fun with him. Her brain started to go there.
His abs.
His pecs.
His arms.
Her tongue on all of the above.
No. No. No.
Uncle John eating chicken wings with blue cheese dressing, sitting in a kiddie pool with no shirt on and his long gross toenails.
She shut her eyes, took a few deep breaths.
Okay, good, the images of Mark and the way she’d like to have fun with him had vanished from her brain and the backs of her eyelids.
Still scrubbing the same pot she’d been scrubbing for the last ten minutes, she let her gaze slide sideways to gauge his reaction.
He was staring down at the utensils he was drying, a small smile curling up on his lips.
They worked in silence, hearing nothing but the gentle slosh of her hands in the water and the tinkling of utensils as he dried them. But as they continued to work, the tension in the room grew thicker by the second. He didn’t need to stand so close to her, and yet he did. So close that their elbows kept touching, fo
llowed by her shoulder on his bicep. His hard, sculpted bicep. He’d gone and tossed on a black T-shirt and gray sweats after work, and the combination was sending Tori into a tailspin.
“I think that pan is probably clean,” he said with a chuckle. “Unless you’re trying to scrub off the finish.”
Rolling her eyes, she pulled it out of the water, rinsed it and went to put it in the drying rack, only Mark went to grab it, and their hands touched.
Electricity from that simple finger graze beelined straight through her, from her hands, down to her toes and back again, settling somewhere deep in her belly and blooming into a warmth that spread between her legs.
Mark’s throat undulated on a hard swallow.
God, even his neck was sexy, with strong tendons and a big Adam’s apple that bobbed as he spoke.
“What are your plans this weekend?” she asked, feeling like she needed to keep the conversation flowing. When they grew quiet, her imagination took the reins and drove her train of thought straight into the gutter in Sexyville, USA. And that gutter was filthy!
He lifted one shoulder, passing her the dish towel so she could dry her hands after she removed the drain plug. “Poker night Saturday, then I think I might take Gabe to The Museum of Flight on Sunday. He loves it there.”
Right, his “dads’ club” and their weekly poker night.
What were they all like? Did they sit around bashing their ex-wives? Bashing women? Or was it more of a support group for the struggles of independent child rearing? Or were they typical men and didn’t talk about their feelings at all and just drank beer, ate junk food, grunted and gambled?
Probably the latter.
“Sounds like a good time. Do you really gamble away your money, or is it all for fun?”
He hung up the dish towel, his gaze sliding toward her. “Real money.”
She pursed her lips. “Wow. Maybe when I have two pennies to rub together again, someday I can take a trip to Vegas and sit at a poker table. Take in the action. The excitement. Are you any good?”
His smile was coy. “I win more than I lose.”