One Wild Kiss

by Jessica Lemmon

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into his driveway and parked. When she didn’t get out behind him, he opened her door, narrowly avoiding eyeing those long legs again.

  “I’ll wait here,” she said.

  “You sure you don’t want to come inside?”

  “No. No, no, no.” She’d turned him down—four times, no less—with a smile.

  “I’ll be quick.”

  “Okay.” She pulled out her cell phone and began scrolling, busying herself with something other than a tour of his place. Maybe it was inappropriate to invite her into his house since she’d never been here before.

  When he’d hired one Miss Addison Abrams, he’d been pleased when she lived up to her résumé. Her work record was impressive. She’d been employed for several large companies and understood corporate regimens. She interviewed well, too. She was confident, poised and beautiful. Which he wasn’t supposed to take into account, but her attributes were impossible to dismiss.

  Bran never considered himself to have a “type” but he did love a California girl, and Addi was golden, blue-eyed and blonde. His weakness.

  “Well, you’re going to have to be strong,” he reminded himself as he stuffed clothes into a bag. He’d done a fine job of compartmentalizing her until recently. Damn Taylor.

  He changed from his suit pants and oil-streaked button-down into jeans and a T-shirt and tied his sneakers. At the last second, he grabbed a fresh suit, too, in case dinner was formal.

  He jogged downstairs with his bag, excited at the prospect of taking a break. Hell, if tonight went well, maybe he’d stay the weekend. He’d felt no such excitement about meeting Tammie at Vive. Which reminded him...

  He texted Tammie a quick message: Have to cancel tonight. Something came up. By the time he’d locked his front door and was sliding into the car next to Addi, he’d almost forgotten he’d sent it. Leaned back in the passenger seat of his car, her blond ponytail blowing in the breeze, her elbow resting on the window’s edge... She looked damn good in his car. Any guy who caught sight of her looking this tempting would forget his own name.

  His phone buzzed from its resting spot on the gear box and Addi’s eyes went to it at the same time his did. A photo of Tammie’s low-cut top and plentiful cleavage flashed onto the screen.

  “Shit.” He picked up his phone. “Sorry about that.”

  “No judgment here.” She held up a hand.

  Beneath the lewd photo, the text read, Can I change your mind?

  He replied, Going out of town. Rain check.

  We’ll see came Tammie’s reply.

  He shook his head. Not because he’d messed up his “sure thing” but because he didn’t remotely care about seeing her once he was back home. What had he been thinking? That the attraction he felt for Addi could be painted over with a girl like Tammie? Impossible.

  Not the point. He wasn’t pursuing Addi.

  “I didn’t peg you for a clean lines kind of guy,” his adorable assistant said, her eyes on his house and, he noticed, not on his phone.

  “I don’t like clutter.”

  She hummed but didn’t look at him. He had an idea how to get her attention, even if it was a tad immature.

  “Sorry you can’t go topless.”

  He earned a wide-eyed look of surprise.

  “I almost bought a convertible, but I couldn’t resist the sleekness of this model. Was that joke too soon?”

  She held her finger and thumb an inch apart and peered at him through the gap. So damn cute.

  “Windows down okay?” He pressed a button and both driver’s and passenger’s windows lowered. “Some women don’t want to mess up their hair.”

  “Like the woman on your phone?”

  “Oh-ho! I sense a little bit of judgment.” He mirrored her earlier gesture and held his own finger and thumb an inch apart. “I canceled my date with her tonight. I guess that was her way of trying to change my mind.”

  “That lacks creativity.” Addi tilted her head and a flirty smile crossed her lips. He could feel them sliding back into the comfortable groove they’d worn in at the office.

  The only new part was that the joking was starting to feel a lot like flirting.

  An excited glint lit her eyes before she slipped on her sunglasses. “I’m okay with the wind in my hair.”

  * * *

  She shouldn’t care what Bran was doing or who he was doing it with. After all, she was leaving Crush Island and setting sail for Independence Cove.

  She shouldn’t care. But she did.

  Sigh.

  The woman who’d texted him wore a skintight dress that left little to the imagination. Her chest was unmistakably the subject of the photo, but Addi had caught sight of a cute, pert nose and full red lips. She still couldn’t believe he’d canceled his date with that woman to ferry Addi to Lake Tahoe.

  A rock song played on satellite radio and he sang along, slightly out of tune. She smirked, liking his voice no matter how imperfect the pitch.

  “Are you laughing at my singing?” he asked, the wind from the open windows whipping his hair around his head.

  “Not at all,” she lied.

  “Yes, you were.” He turned the volume down. “It’s okay. My sister’s been laughing at me since she was born.” They watched the road for a beat before he added, “I haven’t been to Tahoe in about five years. Last time I was there, I nearly died on a bunny slope.”

  “You mean there’s something you can’t do?” She gasped.

  “I can’t do a lot of things. Ski, propose, land CEO.” He said it with a self-deprecating smile and followed it with one of his signature knee-weakening winks. Maybe one day when he did that, her knees wouldn’t weaken. #Goals.

  “I’ve only been there once. Joe’s family brought us. I don’t like skiing—it’s cold and hurts when you fall down. But he was an amazing skier.” That trip with the Harts was eons ago and mentioning it made her miss Joe anew. This weekend promised to be full of old memories that were hard to think about.

  “Who’s Joe?” Bran glanced over. “Old boyfriend?”

  “We were friends.”

  “Ah, so he had a thing for you and you shot him down.”

  “Nothing like that. Our families were friends.” Emphasis on the were. Her parents blamed her for quitting her position at Hart Media and “driving a wedge” between them and their wealthiest friends. Emphasis on the wealthy part. She’d always wondered if her parents were enamored more with the Harts’ financial status than them as people. They were billionaires, after all. Like the man sitting next to her.

  “Nope. I don’t buy it. A romantic ski trip together—”

  “We were seventeen!” she argued with a laugh.

  “Even worse! He was probably dying for you to notice him.”

  Bran didn’t know that her friend had, in fact, died. But that reference wasn’t what caused her eyes to mist over. It was remembering the good times she and Joe had together. That ski trip was one of the best weekends of her life. They’d grown apart after she’d stopped working for his parents. Years later they’d reconnected for a double date, but she felt the distance between them. She recalled vividly the sad smile he’d given her while his girlfriend at the time and Addi’s frat-boy date were talking about a football game.

  She blinked away fresh tears and turned to focus on the passing landscape out her window.

  “Oh, hell. What happened?” Bran asked. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She gave him a watery smile. “Joe and I drifted apart. It was...hard.”

  “Oh.” Bran drew out the word with a sage nod. “You liked him and he didn’t like you, right? I’m sorry, Ad. That sucks.”

  She had the sudden urge to laugh. Or punch him. Or maybe laugh and then punch him. Did he hear himself? She liked him and he didn’t like her back and it did suck
! “We were friends. And now...”

  She shook her head, the lump in her throat cutting off the rest of her sentence. She cleared her throat and tried again. “This weekend is Joe’s life celebration. He prearranged three nights in Tahoe for close family and friends before he died.”

  The only sounds in the car were the low volume of the radio and the wind sliding off the sleek sports car as they glided down the highway.

  “I’m so sorry, Addison. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you have?”

  “How’d he die?”

  “Bone cancer. From diagnosis to the end, he only lived nine months. The same amount of time it took for him to come into the world was the same amount of time it took for him to leave.”

  He squeezed her hand. “That’s why you were crying in the office.”

  Bran would be so easy to lean on, to confide in. To trust with her deepest, darkest fears and secrets. She slipped her hand from his to dig through her purse for a tissue and found herself doing just that.

  “We grew apart after I went to college,” she said as she dried her eyes. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Maybe we outgrew each other.”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean.” His comment was thoughtful, and she wondered if he was referring to Taylor, who’d been a family friend for decades before Bran and she had dated.

  Joe didn’t have a girlfriend when he died. He’d never married. When Addi heard he was sick, her own life seemed shorter.

  Which was why it was a good idea for her to get over Brannon. She could be dating someone who was madly in love with her, not torturing herself by hoping her boss might someday notice her.

  She punched the volume button on the radio to drown out those thoughts.

  “I love this song!” she called out.

  “Yeah, me, too!” he called back, cranking the volume louder.

  She didn’t know if he was letting her off the hook or if he really did love this song, but she was going to embrace the opportunity to stop being so damn needy. So far, their road trip had consisted of awkward pauses, tears for Joe and jealousy over the woman that would have occupied Bran’s bed tonight if Addi’s car hadn’t broken down.

  She’d learned a long time ago that relying on others for her basic needs came with strings, rules and, if Addi didn’t follow those rules to a T, rejection. She was grateful to Bran for a lot of reasons—her job, primarily, but also that he cared enough to console her and drive her to Lake Tahoe.

  But.

  Her heart was a terrible translator. Her heart would read that professional concern as “true love” and fill her pragmatic mind with head-in-the-clouds fluff.

  She was done pretending they might someday march down a long, white aisle. It was time to buckle down and be practical. Find that independent version of herself and put her in charge of her life for a change.

  Six

  The last hour had passed easily. Addison was a good deejay, even though she was cranking a country station. Not typically what he preferred but he could tolerate Florida Georgia Line. Besides, she looked cute singing along to every word.

  He hadn’t gotten over the news that a funeral was her “family reunion.”

  She kept her personal life a hell of a lot closer to the chest than he’d previously thought. He knew she was a private person, but good God. How had she not trusted him enough to confide that a close friend of hers had passed away?

  What he knew about Addi wouldn’t fill a shot glass. For good reason. Work stayed at work and she was at work. Now with the rare opportunity of having her outside of work, he was finding out all sorts of things about her. Like that she didn’t like skiing. That her family wasn’t close. That her late friend Joe was the son of the Hart Media Harts—a behemoth that made ThomKnox look like a garage start-up company.

  Meanwhile, she’d clammed up. She was a lot like the tide. Advance, withdraw. Advance. Withdraw. He still felt as if she was hiding something from him.

  But what?

  He thought back to his conversation with Taylor—when she confessed she was worried about him. He suspected Addi was doing the same. And as much as he appreciated it, he needed to let her know that he was just fine, thank you very much. There was no reason for her to take on his personal life—only his professional one.

  As he caught sight of her mouth moving to the words of the song, again he felt attraction vibrate the air. It was so much stronger outside the office.

  He rolled up the windows and, risking potentially embarrassing both of them, tapped the Off button for the radio on his steering wheel.

  “You don’t like that song?” she asked.

  “We’ve been politely skirting a very big issue since Taylor insinuated that you and I should date.”

  Addi froze.

  “In this space, I’m not your boss. You can say whatever you like to me and I’ll respond honestly. The impact of what we say will never leave the confines of this car. Agreed?”

  She said nothing, watching him cautiously.

  “I never should have dated Taylor.” It was the most he’d said to Addi on the topic, but the air needed clearing. “She and I are friends, great friends. Hell, we never even slept together.”

  “Thank God,” she breathed and he shot her a startled look. “For your brother’s sake, I mean. And your niece’s. Or nephew’s. I’m sorry, go on.”

  “Uh, right. Point is, you don’t have to worry about me. I wanted CEO but I also love what I do. And while I admit I find you very attractive and funny and smart, I also know you are irreplaceable, and I’d never compromise our most important union. The relationship we have at work.”

  More silence from her side of the car, but she did nod. Eyes on the road, he continued, content to fully bury this hatchet once and for all, “I have no plans to ask you on a date, Addison.” He glanced over at her. “None. Dinner tonight will be a couple of coworkers hanging out, and that’s it. If you’re uncomfortable or if you feel I’ve overstepped, say the word. It’s not worth ruining our friendship.”

  She didn’t respond to that either, watching out the windshield, eyes unblinking.

  Granted, this wasn’t the easiest conversation to have. The promise never to ask her out was as much to reassure her as to remind himself that she wasn’t going to grace his bedsheets. Before their joking was misconstrued as flirting, or his lingering gazes made things worse for both of them, he had to set them back on course.

  “You’ve been at my side as my executive assistant for a year and just so you know, I see that as a lateral position. You’re every bit as important as me to ThomKnox. If I lost you, Ad, I’d be lost. And unlike your friend Joe, I know in my gut—to the soles of my feet—that you don’t like me that way. You don’t have to worry about me assuming otherwise.”

  * * *

  She’d started out shocked, slipped into nervous and advanced to royally pissed off during Brannon Knox’s monologue. He’d made a ton of assumptions despite promising he wasn’t. He wanted to be honest? Oh, she could be honest.

  How many arguments had she had with her parents over the years where they claimed to know exactly what she wanted? Exactly what she needed? Piano lessons. Modeling sessions. Cheerleading practice. She’d kept her mouth shut then, too, not wanting to disappoint them. Afraid that if she disagreed, they’d cut her off.

  Then one day they did.

  She’d barely graduated college before her parents were shoving her into an admin position at Hart Media. In a short while, she’d been “promoted” to accounts manager and hated every second of it. She tried for a year and a half to make it work—always at the encouragement of her parents not to lose out on the huge opportunity of working at Hart Media. When she was finally brave enough to walk away she’d never felt freer.

  Her parents had been furious.

  They were so certain they knew what was b
est for her, but never bothered asking her what she thought. Just like Brannon was doing now. By the time he got to the part of his speech where he said I know you don’t like me she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

  “I do like you, you idiot!”

  The words bubbled from her throat like lava from an active volcano, spewing out way too much truth for the confines of a car. Static electricity charged the air between them as her heart rate ratcheted up. She’d never yelled at him before. She had no idea what to expect. Was he going to yell back at her? Pull over and tell her to find her own way to Lake Tahoe? Fire her?

  She hoped not. She needed her job. Liked her job. Liked him.

  With nowhere to hide and the object of her infatuation a mere six inches away from her, she folded her hands in her lap and waited for his retaliation.

  He didn’t respond the way she expected.

  “Oh.”

  That was what he said. Oh.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted. Lame.

  “It’s fine.”

  But he didn’t look fine. His mouth was a firm line, his elbows straight, his hands on the wheel in the ten-and-two position. She’d either blown up their friendship or lost her job. Neither of which she could face right now.

  She stabbed the radio button and loud music crowded in with the heavy air in the car.

  Seven

  They arrived at the inn exactly when his car’s navigation system said they would. Addison remained stoically silent for the remainder of the trip, and Bran, who was still trying to decide what the hell to think about their conversation, had remained silent as well.

  She liked him.

  And she’d called him an idiot.

  He swallowed another laugh. Truthfully, that’d been cracking him up on the inside since she’d said it. He’d never heard her speak to him with anything less than professionalism and respect.

  Which meant something he’d said really bothered her.

  It was damn interesting, if you asked him.

  Here he’d been barely banking his attraction for her this entire trip only to learn that the street went two ways.