by Raquel Belle
“You look stunning,” he says, his voice dipping an octave that makes me shiver. I don’t think he realizes that he sounds like that either. “New dress?”
Smoothing the cobalt couture evening gown, I smile broadly. “Thank you and yes. New shoes and a new purse too. I’m glad you noticed because you bought them.”
His eyes twinkle and he looks less serious than he usually is for a minute. “Who knew I had such great taste.”
“Yeah, your great taste extends to you handing over your American Express and me spending your money. Not only did I purchase this fabulous outfit you insisted I get for myself, but I also got you a pretty decent suit. It’s been hanging in my closet for a week.”
Nick rubs his stubbled jaw and chuckles. “Thanks.” He accepts the black suit bag. “I’m sure it’s just as amazing as your dress.”
“Of course it is. I do have incredible fashion sense,” I say, studying my well-manicured nails. For once, the polish isn’t chipped because I haven’t been chomping on them.
With a grin and a raised brow, he drawls sarcastically, “No arrogance detected there at all.”
Smirking, I walk to a cream sectional and sit. “You now have fifty-three minutes to get ready.”
He holds my gaze, amusement shining his eyes as if he’s about to spit out a witty comeback…because that’s what we do, we banter. Suddenly, all traces of amusement flit away and his expression hardens. Maybe no one else would have noticed because it’s the slightest change, but I see it…because I know him so well. He’s mostly hard to read but there are a few times―like now―when he forgets to throw his guard up. My smile drops. “Something wrong?”
“No. I’m just thinking that you shouldn’t have to go out of your way to come here and help me get ready for a dinner party.”
Taken aback, I don’t know how to respond at first. “You know I don’t mind. I’m your assistant after all.” What the hell? Since when is stopping by his place to make sure he looks his best before an event or just because I feel like checking in on him an issue? I’ve been doing it for years. I like doing it. Plus, I’m always going wherever he’s going and we take the same car so I might as well come over, right? “Unless you do…mind?” I ask hesitantly. I like to think that I have thick skin. Simple things don’t hurt my feelings, but Nick possibly hinting at having a problem with my presence in his apartment—all of a sudden, out of the blue—stings like hell.
“Of course, I don’t mind. I just meant that maybe you would have liked to spend the extra time on yourself.”
A moment of silence crawls by as I search for a response. “We’re taking the same car...” I shrug, hoping that’s a logical enough reason for me to make the small trek here. “And I only live down the street so…”
Okay, something is off. Nick is now looking at me strangely. He has something to say that he’s not saying. That’s not Nick. Before I jump up and demand to know what’s been going on with him today—because internally I’m freaking out—he nods.
“Of course. Good point. I’m going to shower and get ready.”
Slack-jawed, I watch him disappear. Two awkward exchanges in one day. I’m officially worried.
Chapter Nine
Nick
With a sigh, I shrug into my jacket. The three-piece navy-blue suit fits perfectly—as I knew it would. Grace doesn’t miss a beat. Figures she’d ensure that we color coordinate as well. My smile dies before it fully forms when I remember the way I’ve been behaving all day.
Peering at myself in the mirror, I wonder what’s gotten into me. I’m never awkward, never unsure, and I never beat around the bush when I have something to say. What I wanted to tell Grace earlier was that having her in my home, right there within reach…in that damn sexy evening gown that gives me a mouthwatering view of her cleavage…is highly dangerous. My libido has been raging all day and I just might do something stupid. Something stupid that we’d both enjoy, yeah, but I can’t come right out and tell my assistant that, can I? Granted, we have a pretty close relationship, but I don’t want to make her uncomfortable by letting her in on the fact that I’m lusting after her. Hard.
Then again, I suppose I wasn’t so successful in not making her uncomfortable because I clearly saw her tense up—twice—today. My tumultuous emotions are affecting our easy rapport. I need to get a grip. Taking a deep breath, I do what I do best and bury those emotions. I remind myself that four years ago, we both agreed not to jeopardize the great thing we’ve got going with getting intimate again.
I also remind myself how relieved I was when Grace made that decision. Sure, I was a bit pissed at first. What man wouldn’t be after sleeping with an amazing woman like Grace and looking forward to another taste of her…only to have that hope killed? I almost protested, telling her if any two people could pull off a professional/sexual relationship, it was me and her. There’s mutual respect and a solid friendship between us. Plus, the sex was incredible and I want so badly to experience it again…and again. But, I didn’t want to risk hurting Grace so I agreed to keep the line drawn. When I think about it, I see more and more that it’s for the best.
Bearing witness to my parents’ toxic relationship as a kid left me beyond traumatized and averse to relationships. Being thrown into foster care later didn’t help my case either. I didn’t grow up knowing how to love...well, except my brother, but I already loved him before I became emotionally scarred, and just carried on loving him. I’d make an awful romantic partner for Grace, plain and simple.
So, no more wanting to get her back into my bed.
However, that resolve is quickly tested when she knocks softly on the door to my bedroom—the one place I don’t want her anywhere near right now.
“Nick?”
“Yes, Grace?”
“Are you decent?”
“Uh huh,” I murmur, working on my tie and trying desperately to keep my mind from conjuring images of her in my bed…naked.
She opens the door and steps in. Damn it. And there goes my dick forgetting all about our decision to stop wanting Grace.
“Look at you. Handsome as ever,” she smiles. “Here let me.” She steps closer and reaches for my tie. It’s all very innocent. She calls me handsome and fixes my tie all the time, but my body is on a different page right now than my brain—the logic signals I’m sending to my cock don’t seem to be reaching him. When I catch a whiff of her intoxicating perfume and a glimpse of the swell of creamy breasts above the neckline of her dress—damn that dress—my mind soon joins my body. Now…I definitely can’t keep the images of us entwined on my bed at bay. The night I had the most incredible sex of my life―I’m not exaggerating―floods my mind. It was because we connected. I’ve never connected with anyone else the way I have with Grace.
Taking a deep breath, I force the erotic memory to the back of my mind and somehow manage to overrule the animal inside me—the one who’s dying to pull her toward me and kiss her senseless. Grace’s eyes meet mine as she continues to fuss with my tie. She smiles, but there’s something hidden behind that smile. I’m close enough to her and I know her well enough to see it. Sadness? I’d hate to think that I have anything to do with that look.
“What’s wrong?”
She blinks, returning her focus to the tie in her hands. “Wrong? Nothing?”
I place a hand over hers to make her stop. “I think the tie is straight enough. Thanks. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“You do know that your demanding attitude doesn’t work with me, right? Especially when it isn’t working hours.” Her breezy laughter doesn’t fool me one bit.
“I’m being serious.”
“When aren’t you being serious?”
“Damn it, Grace,” I practically growl.
Her brows lift and her hands drop to her sides. “Okay, what’s eating at you?”
“I should be asking you the same question. What’s eating at you? You seem upset...or pensive maybe. Sad.”
Her brows crease. “Do I
? I’m not...I was just thinking…” She sighs and gives me a pained look. “It’s annoying how easily you pick up on things, you know that? It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Now I really am going to worry. You want my head clear for tonight, don’t you? What if I can’t think about anything else except what could possibly be bothering you…and then I miss something or say the wrong thing to an important client?” I shrug, “You have to tell me what’s bothering you.”
The smile that slowly lights up her face dampens my worry a bit. “Emotional blackmail? Really?”
“I can be underhanded like that.”
Her easy laughter sounds like my Grace and I relax even more, swallowing a smile. “You said you were thinking. About what?”
Grace’s eyes travel around the room and she nibbles her lower lip, drawing my attention to her mouth. Naturally, I think about kissing her again. I can remember her full lips wrapped around my cock as if it was yesterday. God help me.
Luckily, I’m distracted from those torturous thoughts when she asks, “Do you ever see yourself in a relationship, Nick? A romantic one.” When our eyes meet, she flushes and adds, “With anyone?”
Stunned, it takes me a while to gather my thoughts to give her a response. “I don’t think about it so I suppose I don’t. That’s what’s bothering you?”
Grace purses her lips and looks away. I can tell her unease is mounting and I can’t imagine why. I don’t even know why she would ask me about my thoughts on relationships when she already knows my stance. She knows the story of my mother and father. How my father left his wife without a word, sending her into a downward spiral.
After that Sean and I pretty much raised ourselves because our mother checked out both mentally and emotionally. Then, well…she died. I always thought it was of a broken heart. Why in the world would I want a long-term relationship when I’ve seen what losing your heart to someone does to you in the long run? And it isn’t just my parents. I’m a practical person and I wouldn’t make the rash decision of avoiding love based on just one incident. I’ve seen so called ‘loving relationships’ destroy plenty of people since I was a kid…all the way up to now.
“I wouldn’t say it’s bothering me. I’m just curious. I know where you stood on the matter years ago, but maybe you’ve changed your mind?”
“I haven’t.” I search her face carefully, trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “It’s hard to believe that my stand on relationships is what made you sad. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Just forget I asked. It doesn’t matter.”
Like hell it doesn’t. Suddenly, realization dawns on me. Four years ago, Grace asked me if I could give her more emotionally if she wanted a relationship. I’d told her I couldn’t. Panic isn’t something I experience much...if ever, but I feel a flicker of panic rising now. “Grace, what are you really trying to ask me? It’s hard to believe that you’re just randomly checking to see if I’ve changed my mind about commitment. Is this about us?”
She takes a step back, her face redder than it was a few seconds ago. Her cheeks almost match her blood red lipstick and my eyes narrow as my suspicion rises. “What? No. There is no us.”
“Right, because you shut things down years ago.” If she hadn’t, there still wouldn’t be an us, not in the full romantic sense, but we’d sure as hell still be sleeping together.
“I don’t need a reminder. I haven’t forgotten. We should get downstairs.”
“We’re not done—”
“The car will be here any minute.”
She wheels around and flounces out, leaving me irritated but admittedly, relieved. I’m not one to run from hard or uncomfortable conversations, but in this case, I didn’t want to stoke the underlying friction that’s been threatening to erupt between Grace and I lately. I know it all stems from us crossing the line in the past and if she wants to let it go and pretend everything is fine, I won’t press her… just like I didn’t four years ago.
Chapter Ten
Grace
Four years ago…
“I slept with my boss, Cara. I’m worried.” There’s no way I can be okay after possibly ruining my friendship with Nick and jeopardizing my job. Sitting in the back of a cab, I’m about to spiral into an all-out anxiety attack. When I was in the throes of passion, enjoying every delicious thing Nick so skillfully did to me, I hadn't thought of the consequences. That was tomorrow’s problem…and now here we are…it’s tomorrow.
“Oh, my God!” I wail when reality strikes me again. “I slept with Nick.”
I see the driver’s ears perk up like a cat’s. I send him a glare as our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The man, who appears to be in his early fifties or so, with salt and pepper brown hair, quickly returns his attention to the road. I get back to my conversation with Cara. “What if things get super weird between us?”
“I really don’t think you have to worry, Grace. You and Nick have a solid foundation. Not only have you been his right-hand person for three years, but you’ve also been his friend. Even if things get a little weird, you two will work it out. I know you will. On a side note—how was it? The sex, I mean.”
“One, why do you sound so excited when I’m freaking out?”
“Because I knew you two would hook up eventually. We all called it.”
“We? Jazz and Beth too? What? Did you all have a bet on when I’d sleep with Nick or something?”
“Or something,” Cara drawls.
I scowl as I peer out the window…watching the city’s scenery fly by, just like maybe my job and my friendship with Nick…I shake my head. I’m going to give my friends a piece of my mind when I see them...after I whine about my mistake and soak up their comfort and hugs that is. I harrumph. “You girls are the worst. And…” I clear my throat and whisper, “It was spectacular.” Both times. It would have been three times if I hadn’t fallen asleep because Nick was raring to go all night it seemed.
There’s a deafening squeal and I have to pull the phone away. Once the screaming stops, I return the phone to my ear to hear Cara say, “I figured it would be.”
“You figured? Please, don’t tell me I haven’t been the only one thinking about Nick in that way. This conversation is officially uncomfortable.”
Laughter erupts. “Ninety percent of the female population in New York has thought about him in that way, honey.”
I huff, but remain silent. Of course, I know that, and it irritates the hell out of me.
“Oh, come on. Nicholas Parker is hot and so...Nick. It’s easy to imagine he’d be great in the sack.”
Cara is right. He’s so hot there aren’t any other words to adequately describe him other than he’s so...Nick. He’s easily one of the most eligible bachelors in the city and yes, he’s great in the sack. “Well, my boss’s hotness aside, I really hope I haven’t screwed things up. I need my job.”
“I’m sure your job will be fine. Did you two talk? Was he upset when you left? Why did you leave?”
I roll my eyes at the barrage of questions—typical lawyer. With a sigh, I admit, “He only seemed upset by the fact that I was running out the door. So, no, we didn’t talk.” Upset is an understatement. Nick was livid.
“Grace.”
Hunkering down in my seat, I moan, “I panicked. I just couldn’t face him.” The things we did, the things we said...how do we just go back to work on Monday?
Cara sighs. “Grace Peterson, you are no coward. Hang up with me now, get a hold of yourself, and call Nick to settle things.” She adds, “Then make sure you call me right back. I’m living vicariously through you right now.”
“Bye Cara,” I growl and hang up. I shake my head, irritated, but she’s right about me needing to settle things with Nick and I have to do it before Monday morning. So, as soon as I walk into my apartment, I take a deep breath and call Nick. I had time to think about things during the rest of my cab ride and I’m ready to let him know what I think is best.
“Grace.” He answers on the first ring. His clipped tone when he says my name makes me shudder. Great, he’s gone full prosecutor mode on me.
“Hi, Nick.”
“Hi, Nick? Seriously? What the hell was that this morning?”
Falling onto a sofa, I look around my messy apartment. I too have boxes scattered on the floor in preparation of my move to Manhattan. “Nick, please just hold on to your anger for a minute and let me speak. Can you do that?”
His intake of breath is audible. “Of course I can. First, are you okay?”
My heart instantly turns to a puddle. Nicholas Parker is a hard as nails lawyer and a general hard-ass in everyday life, but when you’ve established a place in his heart, he’s the sweetest man alive. And I’m confident that I have a place in his heart no matter how much I upset him this morning. “I’m fine. How are you doing?”
“I’m pissed.”
I wince. Straightforward as usual. “Of course, you are. I’m sorry I left like that.”
“You ran.” He lets out a breath. “I was afraid you’d have regrets and that’s exactly what ended up happening. I feel terrible.”
I’m sure I feel even worse. “I don’t have regrets, Nick...not about our night together.” My face is so hot right now, thinking about last night. I don’t know why I’m so embarrassed—he can’t even see me. “I’ll only have regrets if us crossing the line ruins our relationship.”
“It won’t.”
“What makes you so sure? I mean, things were already pretty awkward this morning.”
“You made things awkward. I was just fine.”
Nibbling my fingernails, I grimace when a piece of nail polish chips off in my mouth. Flicking it off my tongue, I sigh, “I just felt...I don’t know. You’re my boss.”