Zero Forks: An Opposites Attract Romance (Smalltown Secrets Book 4)

by Cat Johnson

  “Everything okay?” he asked, concern clear in his question, which made me feel even more guilty about my objectifying this much too sweet guy.

  “Just getting some water,” I answered.

  “Me too.” He grinned, as if it was the best coincidence in the world.

  I hated it but his exuberance was a tad bit infectious.

  Even if I was tired and a little cranky at the thought of having to get up in just five or so hours, even though I had yet to go to sleep, seeing Boone smile brightened my mood.

  “Ladies first,” he said with a sweep of his arm.

  “Oh, okay.” We were both wearing far too little considering our relationship to one another. But I grasped on to the formality and his politeness and pretended he wasn’t almost naked.

  I cleared my throat, about to ask if he got Stewie down for bed okay, when I felt the heat of Boone’s hand on my back.

  So big. So hot. Skin on skin. I nearly tripped over my own feet at the feel of it as my mind did summersaults.

  “Watch yourself there,” he said.

  I looked down and realized he wasn’t coming on to me. He was trying to steer me away from a rubber dog bone.

  His touch disappeared as he bent and scooped it up.

  “These nubby dog toys are surprisingly painful when you step on them barefooted. Not quite Lego pain, but close.”

  I managed a nod. “Thanks.”

  He waved it away. “My fault. I need to make sure to pick up after Romeo since you’re nice enough to let him visit once in a while.

  Phew. The dog. This was a safe subject. Safer than my remembering Boone’s hand just above the waist of my sleep shorts.

  “Romeo is welcome here,” I said.

  “You mean that?” Boone asked.

  “Yes. Anytime you want.”

  At this point, I was ready to give Boone anything he wanted. Which was bad given our current state of undress.

  Very, very bad. The way he looked and the way I felt, the more we had on the better.

  We finally reached the kitchen and reached for the glass cabinet at the same time, putting our bodies pretty much against each other.

  Since Boone was taller, I took a step back and let him get two glasses down.

  “Here you go.” He handed me one.

  “Thanks.” I turned toward the fridge at the same time that he did too.

  He took a step back this time and said, “You first.”

  “Thank you.” I put my glass beneath the fridge’s water dispenser and waited, but nothing came out.

  Frowning, I took the glass away and put it back. Again nothing.

  “Here. Let me.” Boone leaned over my shoulder. His hand covered mine as he pressed the glass farther in until it connected with some invisible button that started the water flowing.

  Only then did he take his hand away.

  I angled my head to say thank you and found his face still close. He remained there for a second, his eyes connecting with mine in the glow of the fridge’s built-in night light.

  Finally, he drew in a breath and leaned back. “You gotta make sure you hit the button,” he explained, unnecessarily.

  “Um, yeah. Got it now. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He nodded and we waited in silence for the eternity that it took my glass to fill with the trickle.

  And fill it did until it spilled over onto my hand because I wasn’t paying attention. Or at least, not to the glass. All my attention was on Boone.

  The icy cold water was a wake-up call.

  I took my glass and what was left of my rational thought and said, “Good night.”

  “’Night, Sarah.” The deep timbre of Boone voice and its effect on me followed me all the way to my room.

  When was it going to be cold enough to be flannel pajama and bathrobe weather?

  Whenever it was, it couldn’t come soon enough.

  THIRTEEN

  Sarah

  I woke early, in spite of my lack of sleep the night before.

  The meeting was set for first thing and there was no way I was going to risk being late.

  Traffic. A flat tire. There were any number of things that could happen during my commute that could delay me.

  So I'd set my alarm for early and sacrificed the extra sleep I so desperately needed. The dark circles beneath my eyes weren’t anything I couldn’t cover with makeup. And they were a small price to pay to get to the office before Jerry.

  There was another reason I didn’t mind leaving early. It meant I could avoid any awkward sunrise encounters with Boone.

  After that midnight moment in the kitchen, I needed some time to get my libido in check.

  But damn him, Boone managed to even flirt with me when he wasn’t there. He’d left me a pastry wrapped in cellophane next to my travel coffee mug. And next to that was a note.

  Have a great day. See you tonight. Boone

  Okay, maybe there wasn’t anything overtly flirty about the words he’d written. It just somehow felt flirty.

  Of course, that could just be me. My interpretation. My very skewed interpretation. All because I couldn’t look at Boone without drooling.

  Dammit, why couldn’t he have been a dickhead like Jerry, instead of being so sweet? If he was a jerk, he’d be easy to resist. It wouldn’t matter how sexy he was on the outside.

  But Boone wasn’t rotten at the core. He was bright and shiny all the way through.

  In fact, his only real flaw was his overt optimism. For a born and learned pessimist like me, Boone’s constant sunshiny disposition was a bitter pill to swallow at times.

  And if that was really his only flaw—besides his tendency to cuss, which he was working on—I was in big trouble. Particularly since he was going to be my date to that damn wedding.

  Did I really invite him? I was kind of hoping I’d dreamed that whole thing.

  That decision was definitely made during a moment of weakness.

  I probably should stay stone cold sober during that event, as painful as it was going to be, just to be safe. Though doing that, with my ex there, might cost me my sanity.

  I’d be better off just giving in. Letting loose and giving myself to Boone. That idea sounded a little too good to me, which meant I’d better forget about it.

  The dead last thing I needed in my life right now—or ever—was to fall for a hot as hell farmer over a decade my junior. I was on the path to a promotion. My career should be—make that definitely was—my focus.

  No dalliances with Boone or any other man for that matter. I couldn’t afford the distraction.

  Though I was plenty distracted now.

  I forced my attention back to the presentation on my computer.

  I’d been sitting at my desk proofing the slides on the PowerPoint to make sure nothing had slipped by me last night in my exhaustion.

  Speaking of being tired—time for another cup of coffee.

  Wishing I had another one of whatever that sweet thing was that Boone had packed for me to take this morning, I headed for the break room, empty mug in hand.

  I’d been the first to arrive this morning, and so I’d brewed the first pot. But the office was bustling now. Someone else had started a fresh pot brewing. There was even half and half today, so I didn’t have to suffer with the powdered creamer.

  Things were looking up.

  I waited as long as I could stand for the pot to fill, and when my patience ran out, I slipped it out from under the stream, filled my mug—mostly—and shoved the pot back under, quickly before it made a mess.

  I added my usual fixings and headed back toward my office, glancing at my watch along the way.

  Ten minutes until the meeting. I should probably gather my things and get to the conference room now. Better early than late, even if it was likely the big boss would make us all wait.

  That decision made, I turned the corner to my office and stumbled to a halt in the doorway.

  Jerry was inside, standing behind my desk, rifli
ng through my notebook.

  “Excuse me,” I said with as much vitriol as I could pack into those two words.

  His head whipped up and he flashed me that bright white smile that once upon a time, while under the influence of heartbreak and alcohol, I’d very briefly thought attractive.

  “Oh, hey. I was just looking for you.”

  Freaking liar.

  “Were you? Well, I’m not hiding under the desk . . .”

  He grinned wider. “No. Although I could think of something fun for us to do if you were.”

  I narrowed my eyes to glare at him. There was no use reprimanding him or even commenting. The man had titanium skin and the inability to know when he was being sleazy and inappropriate.

  The narcissist believed everyone else, women especially, loved him as much as he loved himself.

  Ugh. This visceral reminder of my bad taste in rebound men was probably just what I needed to keep me on the straight and narrow with Boone. But it didn’t help me at all with the fact this douchebag and I had to work on the same campaign.

  Trying to keep us focused on work, I said, “We should get to the conference room.”

  “Sure thing. I can’t wait.” He beamed.

  Once we were settled in and all parties were in attendance, Jerry began his presentation. He'd gotten away from the Mars concept and had moved his fictional young family back to Earth. But once he began explaining his idea, I realized exactly why he had been so excited to get there.

  I sat there in shock and listened to him launch into a presentation based around my words. The Millennial phrases I’d heard Boone’s friends use and then had jotted down in my notes for my presentation.

  He’d stolen my idea, the fucker.

  I felt the blood pounding through my veins as I seriously considered standing up and calling him out in front of Kim and the boss for being a thief.

  I’d just planted my palms on the table and pushed my chair back when Kim raised one finger in the air.

  “Um, Jerry. Let me stop you right there. Can you explain why the characters are talking like my grandmother?” Kim asked.

  “You mean the slang?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  “It’s the popular new sayings the Millennials are using nowadays.”

  “No, they’re not.” Kim shook her head. “My daughter is twenty-seven. She still lives with me, so her friends are over a lot. I hear them talk and I’ve never heard one of them saying anything like that.”

  “I have to agree. My grandchildren are Millennials. They’ve never used those phrases, as far as I’ve heard,” Mr. Rockland said.

  “Maybe it’s a new fad. From out west. You know. California. Los Angeles. The West Coast usually leads these things.” As Jerry tried to dig himself out of the hole he’d created through his thievery of my idea, I struggled to breathe normally.

  The reality of the situation hit me.

  I’d been minutes from presenting that idea myself. An idea that, if he hadn’t stolen it from my notebook this morning, would have crashed and burned, but with me in the cockpit instead of Jerry.

  How could I have been so wrong? I’d heard those girls say all those things just yesterday.

  Was it a Mudville thing? Regional to that small area in upstate New York? I suppose it was possible.

  Still reeling, I thanked God I hadn’t gone first.

  I took a pen to my notes and scratched out all reference to my ill-conceived idea. What just hours ago had felt like such a brainstorm was now all garbage.

  “Sarah?”

  Shit. I was up.

  It wasn’t the ideal time to stand and make what could be a career changing presentation. My hands were shaking. My heart still pounding. But I didn’t have much choice.

  “Are you ready?” Kim asked.

  “Um, yup. I’m ready.” I stood and carried my laptop and notes to the head of the table.

  I could still present what I’d prepared so I turned my computer to face Kim and Rockland and pushed to play the video I’d put together about the girls in the coffee shop.

  Thank God I hadn’t included any of the phrases in the media materials. I talked over the footage about the new take on the book club. Where modern women recommend and discuss what they’re streaming rather than what they’re reading. And how MOD is like your best friend, giving you trusted recommendations based on your likes because it knows you. Knows you as well as your best friends do.

  Mr. Rockland shaking his head had my pulse racing again as I braced myself for the criticism.

  “None of this feels cutting edge enough. I want modern. I want to be blown away. I want our ad to be the one people remember and talk about the day after the Super Bowl.”

  I blew out a breath. He didn’t want just the gold standard. He wanted platinum. And I should be able to give it to him, with or without Jerry on the team. But dammit I was coming up empty.

  My creative well was dry. The only ideas I had were bronze, at best.

  Maybe this was burnout.

  Before this week, when I’d picked up Stewie, I’d been doing nothing but work. If I wasn’t in the office, I was working at home. I didn’t go out. Didn’t socialize. And the couple of hours a night when I tried to unwind before bed, all I did was watch Hulu or Netflix.

  Hell, I’d even watched the Hallmark Christmas movie marathon . . . in July.

  The breakup had sucked the life out of me and even though I told myself I was getting better. Getting over it. I still had no desire to go anywhere. To do anything. And by all evidence it was costing me. In creativity. In ideas.

  I needed to get out. Do something.

  Look how just stepping foot in the coffee shop had given me an idea immediately. A wrong idea, but an idea, nonetheless. I needed more of those moments.

  “I’ll get right on it.” Determined I made that proclamation to my boss. But then I remembered it wasn’t just me on this team and added. “We’ll get something groundbreaking to you. I promise.”

  Rockland nodded. “You’d better. The client is expecting it.”

  For what our company charged, I had no doubt that was true. I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  With that, the big boss left, followed by Kim, who shot me a sympathetic glance on her way past.

  That left me and Jerry. Alone.

  “Thanks a lot for promising him that.” Jerry scowled. “How exactly do you plan to come up with something Super Bowl worthy? Huh? How?”

  The bastard was annoyed with me? After he’d stolen my idea? My blood pressure began rising yet again. But rather than let him bait me into a confrontation, I decided he wasn’t worth the fight.

  I gathered my things into my arms and said, “I’m leaving for the day.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t think here. I’m going out. I suggest you do the same. If there were good ideas inside these walls, we would have come up with them already. There aren’t. We need to go out and find them.”

  “But we need to work together.”

  “No, we really don’t.”

  “Mr. Rock—”

  Jerry was about to throw the boss into this. About how he’d told us to work together. But I had my excuse all ready. “If we brainstorm separately, we’ll come up with twice as many ideas.”

  “I guess.” Jerry looked skeptical.

  I didn’t care. I was heading out. Where exactly I was going to go, I wasn’t sure. As long as it was away from here.

  But before I left . . . I turned. “Oh, and Jerry.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t ever claim credit for another idea of mine again.”

  “Easy, honey. We’re partners on this project. Right?” His smarmy smile had my eyes narrowing.

  I returned a forced smile ripe with my hate. “I don’t care. Do it again and I swear you’ll regret it.”

  His fake smile faded and the real Jerry peeked out. “Yeah, well your ideas suck anyway.”

  He spun and strode down the hall.

>   Good. Let him keep thinking that. Maybe I should leave a few stinkers lying around for him to find and steal. That would teach him.

  But he was right. My latest great idea had sucked.

  I couldn’t let that defeat me. I might have missed the mark on this one, but I’d nail it. Somehow. Eventually.

  FOURTEEN

  Boone

  Stewie was a charmer. In just a few days, he had pretty much the whole family wrapped around his little finger.

  Bart had stepped into the role of big brother flawlessly. His mysterious detention now over, he came straight home from school to spend time with Stewie and Romeo. In fact, the three were inseparable.

  Mom had fallen completely in love with him.

  This morning she’d taken him inside with her while I did my chores, which was fine with me. It meant I got done in an hour what would have taken me half a day with Stewie tagging along.

  Fuck that Stone shot me a glare when Mom came out to the barn to bring Stewie back inside with her to bake cookies.

  It wasn’t the first judgmental look I’d earned from big bro and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

  Maybe Stone just wasn’t a baby person.

  Cash, on the other hand, was all over hanging out with Stewie. In fact, I’d had to go searching for Stewie to tell him I was running to the store quick. I’d finally found him with Romeo and Cash down by the river, looking for fish and frogs.

  If things stayed like this, this babysitting gig would be a piece of cake.

  And speaking of cake, dessert tonight would be the chocolate chip cookies Mom and Stewie had baked this morning. Mom was packing me a basket to take home.

  I figured Auntie Sarah would like that Stewie had helped make them. Even if she did grumble every night when I fed her dessert. Something about my fast metabolism and her tightening clothes.

  I was just finishing putting the groceries away at the Van de Berg house, after enjoying being able to shop alone, without Stewie. I figured I’d head back to the farm, Stewie and I could eat lunch, then I’d put him up on one of the horses for his first riding lesson. I was as excited as he would be when he heard.