Forking Around (Hot Cakes Book 2)

by Erin Nicholas

  Dammit. How had she gone from “Oh, he’s so fun and flirty and I could really use a diversion today?” on the other side of the room to “Holy hell, he’s hot, and I really need to lose a few articles of clothing” now that she was sitting next to him?

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  She finally looked directly at him. “About?”

  “Would you rather call me Boss or Sir?”

  She swallowed. “Am I saying it sarcastically or seriously?” she asked.

  He gave her that half grin that sometimes seemed very knowing. “Breathlessly.”

  Well, at least the diversion thing had been accomplished. All she could think about right now was how green his eyes were and how she wanted to run her hand over his beard and how big his hand was where it was wrapped around his cup.

  “Probably Sir,” she answered, deciding to be honest. Maybe it would at least throw him off his flirty game a little. “Boss reminds me that you’re, you know, my boss.”

  And she might want to forget that once in a while.

  That thought surprised and bothered her, but it was true.

  His eyes flashed. “Sir, it is.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “For letting you call me Sir? Absolutely no problem.”

  “For distracting me.”

  “You need distracting?” His gaze dropped to her lips.

  She pressed them together as they tingled. She nodded. “Lots on my mind.”

  “Stuff you don’t want to talk about.”

  “Right.”

  “Want to play Ping-Pong?” he asked. “Best game for thinking things through. If you don’t have a solution by the time we’re done, I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

  She laughed. “You and throwing money around.”

  He shrugged. “I’m good at it.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “I don’t play Ping-Pong.”

  He slapped a hand over his heart. “And I thought you were the perfect woman.”

  Hardly. She was a woman juggling a bunch of balls that were starting to fall and bounce around all over the place. “Ping-Pong requires another person. I need something I can do alone.”

  “Some of the best things in life require another person,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes. Oh yeah, he’d meant that dirty. She wasn’t just making it sound that way in her head.

  “But all those things can be done by yourself too, and not dealing with another person can be worth it sometimes.”

  “So you want to scoot the Ping-Pong table against a wall and play by yourself?” he asked, pretending to be confused, but one corner of his mouth was definitely curving up.

  She actually chuckled. “Figuratively.”

  He studied her for a second then pushed back from the table. “Stay here. I have an idea.”

  Jane didn’t stay there though. She headed for the cappuccino machine. By the time she’d returned with her cup—topped with a sprinkle of cinnamon—Dax was there. With two coloring books.

  “Seriously?” she asked as she took her seat.

  “Yep.” He pushed one toward her along with a pack of colored pencils.

  She looked at it. And grinned. “A coloring book of swear words.”

  “Well, of course,” he said as if that should have been obvious. He reached for the book in front of her and flipped it open. “Nothing is quite as good for the soul as coloring a page that says This Is Horseshit surrounded by beautiful flowers.”

  She laughed. “I have to say, the idea has merit.”

  “So dive in.”

  He opened the book in front of him as well. Hers was called Fuck Off, I’m Coloring. His was Chill The Fuck Out, and his page was a squirrel and said I Have No Fucks Left to Give.

  She pulled an orange pencil from the pack unable to help thinking that Dax’s page didn’t fit him as well as hers fit her. Everything going on with her dad was horseshit. Dax, on the other hand, did give a fuck. About a lot of things. Lots of fucks. Even when it seemed he didn’t.

  They colored without talking, surrounded by the sounds of the UNO tournament, for a few minutes.

  Then Dax said, “So my dad thinks that all I do is fuck around.”

  She glanced up but he was still coloring. She returned to the S in HORSE. “Why’s he think that?” But she had an inkling.

  “Beanbag chairs,” Dax said wryly. “The fact that I make a video game for a living. The fact that I’m in business with my best friends and go to Comic-Con and am a hit on YouTube and collect Frank Sinatra memorabilia.”

  “You collect Frank Sinatra memorabilia?” she asked, momentarily distracted.

  “I do. Frank was the man. Suave, sophisticated, successful, but widely admired.”

  “And sexy,” she added.

  Dax looked up, at first surprised, then he smiled. “Sexy, huh?”

  Jane nodded. “That voice? All the singing about love?” She’d never given Frank Sinatra a lot of thought beyond liking his music, but yeah, he gave off a sophisticated, bad-boy air. A lot like Dax. She shrugged. “I mean, he was just cool, you know? He just had this… attitude. Like life is short so you gotta live it your way.” She paused then couldn’t help but give Dax a smile. “I think he even sang a song about that.”

  Dax chuckled. “One of my favorites.”

  “So, yeah, there’s something sexy about a guy who just lives life on his own terms.”

  Dax eyed her for a moment. Then said, “Sinatra was friends with mob bosses and had a temper. He hated reporters.”

  Jane thought about that. “Well, they were probably all up in his business. The reporters, I mean. That probably gets old.”

  Dax nodded. “What about the mob ties?”

  “I know he was also a strong advocate for civil rights. Back when that was not popular or common for celebrities. He forced casinos and clubs to hire people of color on their staffs and wouldn’t stay at a hotel that didn’t let blacks stay there.” She wasn’t sure how she knew all that, but she definitely remembered learning that about Sinatra and being impressed.

  Dax nodded again. “True. So that makes up for being friends with bad guys?”

  Jane lifted a shoulder. “We’re all complicated and have layers. Who knows why he was friends with those guys? We all have stories that other people only know pieces of.”

  Dax had put his pencil down. “That’s true.”

  “Which brings us back to the thing about your dad. How can he think you’re fucking around when your business is obviously successful, and you’re clearly happy, and Sinatra memorabilia is very cool?” She concentrated on filling the S of SHIT in with green, not wanting Dax to see how very interested she suddenly was in any and every story of his.

  Yes, every story.

  It was true everyone had stories that others only knew bits of, but she wanted to know all Dax’s stories. That was crazy.

  “He assumes the success is because of the other guys. Though he does give me credit for picking good friends and not pissing them off enough to dump me.”

  She glanced up. “He actually said that? That way?”

  “Oh yeah.” Dax grinned. “He can’t imagine the patience it must take to be Grant and Aiden, in particular. He knows that Ollie fucks around a lot too.”

  She thought about that. Then about her first impression of Dax. “Do you have beanbag chairs and gummy bears in your office in Chicago?”

  “I do. Of course.”

  “And Ping-Pong table and cappuccino machine?”

  “Yes.”

  “And has your dad been to your office?”

  “Yes. He comes to Chicago about every other month on business and always stops by.”

  “If your dad didn’t stop by, would you have those things in your office?”

  “I…” He stopped and studied her. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never admitted out loud and the guys know only because they’ve known me a long time.”

  She smiled, put her pencil down, and
leaned in on her elbows. “I’m ready.” She really was. This guy was interesting. He was sexy and funny and charming, but he was also surprising. He seemed to be easy to understand on the surface, but there was more there. Somehow, she could just tell. And in spite of her wanting to keep a nice buffer between her and anything that could require more energy and time and work in her life, she was drawn to him.

  “I put that stuff in my office when we first started because it was symbolic of something that’s been going on with me and my dad since I was fourteen.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve been trying to prove to him that you can have fun and be successful.”

  Jane arched an eyebrow. “And that means gummy bears?”

  He grinned. “At first, the gummy bears were symbolic. They’re one of the silliest candies. Not just candy. Not just bright colors. But bears. Little, cute teddy bears.”

  She laughed lightly. “Okay. So you symbolically displayed the silliest candy to remind your dad you were having fun making your millions.”

  He nodded, smiling. “And I found the silliest office furniture and painted my office yellow—like bright sunshine yellow—”

  “The silliest color for an office?” Jane guessed.

  “Well, one of them. Hot pink might have been worse.”

  She laughed. “And the Ping-Pong?”

  “Silliest way to conduct a meeting.”

  “You have meetings that way?”

  “With my interns and my designers,” Dax said.

  She shook her head. “Cappuccino isn’t really silly, is it?”

  “To a guy who drinks his coffee straight up black, coffee with foam on it and chocolate or cinnamon sprinkles is silly,” Dax told her.

  “Ah,” she said. “Okay, so you did it all to annoy your dad and make a point.”

  “I did. And it worked,” he said. “But…”

  Jane found herself actually leaning in. “His first trip out got canceled. After I had all that stuff in my office. So it was a month before he showed up. And by then, I liked it all. A lot.”

  She laughed at that. “Really? And you were surprised?”

  “The cappuccino was delicious. The beanbag chairs were comfortable, and I got a lot of brainstorming done in them. I loved the yellow office walls and the gummy bears were… well, gummy bears. There’s nothing bad about gummy bears.”

  He gave her a grin, and Jane had the sudden impulse to kiss him. It was just a sudden flash, but he was just so damned attractive right then. Happy, amused, a little cocky, and so genuine. She blinked.

  “And, I kid you not, the Ping-Pong was amazing. We had great brainstorming sessions while playing. And I’ve deduced that when people are doing something a little silly, something that is just fun and totally unrelated to their work, it frees up their brain and lets the creativity flow.” He looked around the room grinning. “It just makes people happier and their work gets better.”

  Jane also glanced around. That was more appropriate than staring at Dax’s lips. Her boss’s lips.

  Everyone definitely seemed happier. “So you’re brainwashing us all into working better and harder but using silly games to relax us?”

  He chuckled. The sound was low and deep. “I’m just making people a little happier. What happens as a result of that is just a nice consequence.”

  “You’d be encouraging Ping-Pong games and UNO tournaments if it made them work less efficiently and productively?” she asked.

  “If it did that, then I’d know those were the wrong activities,” he said. “Happy people just naturally work better. If the work suffers, then the activities aren’t making them happy. The work is just a measure of the happiness though,” he added. “Obviously, there are lots of other ways to tell. Laughing and smiling, opening up, talking, sharing.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to get people opening up and sharing?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can get to know them.” He leaned in. “So I can figure out what they need.”

  “You want to get to know them?” she asked, her eyes finding it hard to stay off his mouth.

  “I do. Some more than others.”

  She pulled in a breath. “That’s a lot of people to play Ping-Pong with.”

  He gave her a knowing smile. “It is. But I’m up for it.”

  Jane turned her attention back on her coloring page. She filled in all the words and started on the flowers. But then she said, “I have a wicked stepmother.”

  She didn’t really see Dax stop coloring so much as sense it. But he didn’t say anything. There was something about the fact that he wanted to know more about her that she liked. A few days ago, she would have assumed he’d want to “get to know her” in the sense that he’d want to know how best to get her out of her panties. And that had been appealing for sure. In a way. If he wasn’t her boss.

  But now, she thought he really did actually want to get to know her. Dax was clearly a people person. He liked people. He liked interacting, knowing how things worked, how people thought.

  “So the wicked stepmother makes sense,” he said after a moment.

  “Yeah?” Cassie very rarely made any sense to Jane.

  “I mean, it’s no wonder a charming prince came riding into town to sweep you off your feet.”

  That caused her to look up at him. “Wow.”

  “I know. Irresistible, right?”

  “I just don’t know if it’s charming to call yourself charming.” But he was. He really was.

  He grinned, clearly unconcerned about her doubting his charm. “Do you get along with your biological mother?”

  “She died before I was even two. I don’t remember her at all.”

  His grin fell. “Oh damn. I’m sorry, Jane.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be. You didn’t know. And it’s weird... It feels sad I didn’t know her, but I’m not really sad from missing her because I didn’t know her.” She took a breath. “It’s just weird.”

  He nodded. “So your stepmom’s been around a long time? Wicked all along?”

  “Wicked as long as I’ve known her,” Jane said. Then she shrugged. “That’s not entirely true. She’s not really evil or anything. She’s superficial and self-centered. She took a vow to love my father in sickness and in health, and now he’s in a nursing home because she doesn’t want to take care of him. But I know I’m being a little unfair to her. Still, she’s mean to my little sister, and she’s a bitch to me, and we have nothing in common—except my dad, I guess—and I have a very hard time understanding what he ever saw in her. She’s beautiful and about ten years younger than him, and, well, I guess she makes me face the fact that my father really does have horrible taste in women, and it makes me wonder about my mom.”

  Dax took that in, just watching her, and not saying a word.

  “But no, she hasn’t been around that long. About seven years. There have been many others though. My dad isn’t very good at being alone. But they haven’t all been wicked. Like Amanda. That’s Kelsey’s mom—my little sister. She was pretty cool. She got pregnant, and Dad had her move in with us, and she lived with us for about three years before she decided her dream was to be a flight attendant. She and Kelsey stay in touch, and when she’s in town we all go out. But she’s a much better once-in-a-while-girls’-night-out person than a mom.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” Maybe he’d understand why she had more than enough drama, thank you very much, without adding a Sinatra-loving-gummy-bear addict to the mix.

  But dammit, the more they talked, the more she wanted to find out if his kisses were fruit flavored.

  She looked down at her coloring page. It was mostly done. It had also been fun. Even though she’d ended up talking about some of the craziness in her life, she didn’t feel wound tight like she normally did.

  She set her pencils down and closed the book. “I’d better get back to work,” she said, pushing back from th
e table.

  “Okay.”

  She smiled and stood.

  “Go out with me Saturday night.”

  She stopped and stared at him. “I… can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re…” She should say “more than I can take on right now,” but instead she said, “my boss.”

  “That’s a no-no?”

  “Probably?” She shrugged. “I’ve never looked it up because there’s never been even the slightest need.”

  “I’ll have Piper look it up. And I’ll convene a meeting of the board to rewrite any policies that are a problem.”

  “The board?” Jane asked. “You mean, your four best friends?”

  “Well, sure, if you want to get technical.”

  She smiled. “There’s another I-word that applies to you, that’s not irresistible.”

  “Oh?”

  “Incorrigible.”

  “Not familiar with that one,” he said, frowning in pretend confusion.

  “Have Piper look that up for you too.”

  He grinned, and she headed out to work.

  It occurred to her about ten minutes later, that she hadn’t actually said no to him.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket halfway through her third episode of Schitt’s Creek.

  Please God, let it be anyone but Kelsey. She felt immediately guilty for that, of course. She knew her sister was struggling. She was living in a less-than-ideal situation that really sucked. Cassie didn’t really mean her harm, but she wasn’t really doing much to make her happy and well-adjusted either.

  Kelsey’s biological mom hadn’t been back for almost eight months, and when she was in town, it was a day or two layover at the most. They spent the time together shopping and eating and going to movies, like girlfriends. She wasn’t someone Kelsey could really confide in. Not that it would matter. Her mom wasn’t going to swoop in and save the day.

  Nor did Jane want her to. The last thing she wanted was Kelsey being packed up and being moved God knew where. And the last thing she needed was someone else in her life doing… anything at all that required a single brain cell or emotion from Jane, including winding Kelsey up, for better or worse.