by Ann Charles
I found Doc sitting behind his desk in the front room. Papers were spread out across the desktop next to his open laptop. His green, long sleeve T-shirt and faded blue jeans were all about comfort, not impressing clients. His hair still looked damp from the shower.
I set my tote on the floor next to his desk without saying a word and walked straight to his door, flipping the Open sign to Closed and twisted the lock.
“Am I closing up shop?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I lowered the blinds covering the door and the front windows, shutting out the world. When I turned around, he was leaning back in his chair, watching me intently in the darkened room.
“We need to talk,” I told him, returning to stand across the desk from him. I turned on his desk lamp to shine some light on our situation.
One of his eyebrows rose. “Is this about last night?”
“Nope.” I pulled my phone from my pocket, selecting Tiffany’s latest message, and held it out for him to see.
The other eyebrow lifted. “Did Cooper text you already this morning?”
“Not Cooper.”
He took the phone and looked down at it. The room was silent except for the old heat radiator ticking by the window as he read Tiffany’s message. When he finished, he lowered my phone to his desk. His jaw was rigid. Frown lines fanned from the corners of his eyes. I hoped that anger was meant for Tiffany, but I wasn’t going to play any guessing games this time. No more dancing around the truth.
“Before you say anything,” I started, swallowing the fluttering sensation that was inching up my throat. “I have something I need to say.”
I wiped my sweaty palms on my dark blue corduroy skirt and straightened my purple sweater, dredging up some courage as I squirmed.
He watched me, his gaze guarded.
“Tiffany thinks I’m in this relationship for your money.” My heart pounded in my chest, making my voice vibrate slightly. Oh man, I was going to bungle this if I didn’t get a grip.
“Violet, you know Tiffany—”
I stopped him with my raised hand. “I’m not done yet.”
He frowned but held his tongue.
“Tiffany is wrong.” I thought about the commission check I’d received for Doc’s house. “Sort of.”
He leaned back in his chair, his focus one hundred percent locked on me.
“You see, I’ve gone and screwed things up a few times when it comes to you and me. With us. I mean in regard to our relationship.”
Hells bells! This was why I had decided years ago to stick to sex with no strings. This deep, emotional shit was for the birds.
I swallowed in spite of the dry patches in the back of my throat that were making my voice sound raspy. “But I need to make it clear here and now that I don’t expect you to play Prince Charming and rescue me and my kids.” As much as I wanted to look down at my boots, up at the ceiling, anywhere other than into his dark brown eyes, I held course. “We’ve bumbled along for almost a decade now, and I expect that we’ll continue to bounce and rattle our way through the next decade.”
His forehead wrinkled.
I licked my lips. “But that doesn’t mean I’d object if you wanted to bounce and rattle with us for however long you’d like. I just don’t want you to ever feel obligated when it comes to us.”
“Violet,” he started again, but I shook my head.
“Give me a minute. I’m almost to the reason I’ve come here this morning.” I pressed my palms together and held my hands up to my lips, praying to Aphrodite that I didn’t botch this up royally. “I don’t want your money, Doc. It’s true that I’ve had my fair share of financial struggles, and I expect to brave those rough waters again from time to time in the future, but for now the kids and I are doing okay.” Thanks to him, Cornelius, and Wanda, of course.
Lowering my hands to his desk, I continued with my bumbling message. “The reason I came here today and showed you Tiffany’s latest text is not to have you give me a hug and reassure me that you and I are doing ‘fine’ as a couple. You have made it clear over the last four months that you find me attractive and enjoy my company.”
A smile ghosted his face, but after searching mine, he sobered again. “Then why are you here?”
My knees trembled. I started to answer twice, only to stop each time and regroup.
“For Christ’s sake, Violet.” He stood, clearly sharing my agitation. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just spit it out so we can deal with Tiffany’s bullshit.”
“Fine!” I jammed my hands on my hips. “I’ve fallen in love with you, damn it. But just because I told you how I feel doesn’t mean I expect you to spend the rest of your life taking care of me and mine. And I’m certainly not thinking about wedding dresses or diamond rings, so don’t go getting antsy about me bringing up the M word.”
Okay, maybe I was thinking about the M word a teeny tiny bit, but that was my secret until death did we part or he up and left, whichever came sooner.
Doc stared across his desk at me without a smile or frown, not saying a word in response to my big announcement. I felt my cheeks warm. “I wanted to tell you how I feel before Tiffany comes along and whispers her lies in your—”
“Say it again.”
“The part about Tiffany?”
“No. The other part.”
I felt a drop of sweat roll down my back. “I love you, Doc. But I don’t expect you to marry me or adopt my kids or any—”
“Did that hurt?” His lips twitched ever so slightly.
This wasn’t going anything like I’d hoped or imagined. I fidgeted with a pen lying on his desk. “Did what hurt?”
“Finally saying that aloud?”
I slowly spun the pen in a circle, mirroring the way I felt at the moment. “It did a little, in a jumping off the high dive and getting water up my nose sort of way.”
A trace of a grin appeared on his face. “You should keep practicing. The jump will get easier.”
“How do you know? You’ve only said it to me once.”
“And you said nothing in return.”
“I thought you might be playing the part of Gomez again. Then we were interrupted and the moment was gone.”
He smirked. “Gone and not to return for a whole damned month.”
“It wasn’t a whole month.”
“It felt like twelve to me.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I wasn’t playing Gomez when I told you that.”
“You could have said it again after that night.”
“And risk sounding like a fool? I jumped off that high dive first, remember?”
I looked him up and down, tapping the pen on his desktop. “You could say it again now.”
He came around his desk and took the pen from my nervous fingers. Clasping my hand, he rubbed his thumb over the back of my knuckles. “You have me so turned around that I don’t know which way is up anymore.”
I pointed at the ceiling. “It’s that-a-way, along with the stars.” And my head probably if he’d say the actual words again.
He leaned closer, his lips touching mine, stealing my breath along with another piece of my heart. I closed my eyes, sinking into him as he returned for a second kiss, longer this time and deeper, hungrier.
“Open your eyes,” he said when he pulled away.
I raised my eyelids, meeting his dark gaze.
“I’m in love with you, Violet Parker.”
There went my head, floating up past the moon in record speed. It’d reach the Hubble telescope in no time at this rate.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I love you, too, Dane R. Nyce.” He was right, it was an easier jump this time.
He kissed me again, only harder and with more intensity, blasting my heart high into the sky after my head.
“I have something for you,” I said when his mouth slid over my cheek.
He chuckled and pressed against me. “I have something for you, too, Boots.”
Good, we were on the
same page. I pulled free from his arms and extracted a small paper sack from my tote. “A gift just for you.” I held it out for him to take.
He looked at the sack but didn’t touch it. “You brought me lunch?”
“Not lunch. Breakfast.” I shook the bag. “Take it. It’s one of your favorites.”
He obliged, opening the sack enough to peek inside. “What did you …” He reached inside and pulled out a pair of red satin panties.
They matched the bra I had on under my sweater.
“You said I owed you breakfast.” I plucked my underwear from his hand and tossed them onto his pile of paperwork, then I hopped up on the desk next to both. “Well, here I am.”
Capturing his hands, I placed both on my bare knees under the hem of my skirt. Then I pulled my sweater off over my head so he could admire the matching bra.
He stared down at my chest. “Is this really happening?”
“I can pinch you again if you’d like proof.”
“Hell, no.” His attention moved to my lips. “I’ve been on the receiving end of your pinches before. The bruises last a week.”
“Ahhh, poor boy.” I reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, sliding my hand inside his waistband. “How about if I hurt you in a good way instead?”
“I’m yours for the taking, vixen.”
His breath hitched when I did just that, taking him in hand while seducing his mouth with mine. I didn’t stop until he’d gone to the moon and back. By then, I was all hot and bothered as well.
“I want you now.” I hauled his hand under my skirt and showed him where and how.
“You’re going to have to give me a minute to catch my breath, Boots.”
I was normally a patient woman but not this morning, not after the promises he’d made while I’d worked him into a heated lather moments ago.
“Or we could try something else that might speed things up a bit for you.” I slid onto the floor and turned around so my back was to him.
“What are you doing?”
“Watch.” I unhooked my bra, letting the straps slide down off my shoulders with a provocative shrug. Then I let the satin fall to the floor at my purple boots.
“Damn.”
“There’s more.” I leaned back against him, sliding my arms up around his neck so I could pull his head down and kiss along his jaw while I pressed back into his hips.
His palms slid over my bare skin, his touch hot. “You’re so soft,” he whispered in my ear, nipping at the lobe as his fingers grazed my breasts before sliding down to explore the bare skin hidden under my skirt. I moaned, my body spiraling as his fingers worked their magic on me.
I’d almost come undone when he stopped. “Put your hands on my desk,” he ordered, his voice gravelly with need.
“You sure you want to mess up all of this paperwork?” I teased.
“Now, Violet.” He hiked up my skirt, nudging my legs apart.
I obeyed, shoving papers and folders aside.
His hands blazed a trail up the back of my legs and over my hips, cupping my breasts before grazing down over my stomach and upper thighs—almost touching where I wanted him most, but not quite.
I was panting and trembling when he pressed against me.
“Remember when you teased me about frisking you against my desk?” he asked.
“Yes.” I moaned in anticipation.
“And then bending you over and making a mess of my paperwork?”
“God, yes!” My body throbbed. I moved against him, trying to ease the ache.
“I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about you and me here in my office.” He gripped my hips. “About doing this.”
I gasped at how fast he slid inside of me. For a second, he held still, his breath steaming the back of my neck as he waited for my body to adjust to him. Then I moved against him, wanting more, and he was all over me, caressing and kneading, stroking and teasing until my back arched and I cried his name. Pleasure rolled clear through to my fingertips and toes.
He wasn’t long after me, holding me tight, praising me in a throaty, lust-filled voice that gave me another rash of goosebumps. When the last of our groans and moans faded, all that was left was our heavy breathing.
“You are incredible, Violet.” His forehead rested between my shoulder blades. “The sight of you bent over my desk in those boots is something I’ll never forget.” He kissed his way up my spine.
I sighed under his tender kisses. “You’ve been teasing me for weeks. I was ready to go supernova on you at the slightest touch.”
“I noticed. Oh man, did I notice.” He kissed the nape of my neck and then stood, moving away. “Thanks for breakfast, Boots,” he said, buttoning his jeans as I turned around.
“You’re a big tipper.” I collected my red undies and the matching bra, slipping both on as he watched with rapt attention. “That went better than I’d hoped.”
A snort of laughter came from him. “You expected a different outcome after giving me a sack with your panties in it?”
I shrugged, straightening my skirt. “Tiffany worked hard to fill my head with unhappy thoughts.”
He handed me my sweater. “I warned you about her.”
“I know.” I slipped my sweater over my head. “But she’s so pretty and perf—”
“She’s not you.” He pulled me close, his kiss sweet and gentle this time. “I want you and only you, Violet. It’s been like that from day one.”
I smiled up at him with big hearts in my eyes. Little bluebirds flapped around my head, tweeting in happiness. All that was missing were Bambi and Thumper at my feet. “That sounds like a sickness to me.”
His chuckle was low, sexy. “You’re a regular heart attack.”
My phone started playing the Globetrotters’ theme song. “That would be Jerry.”
Doc leaned in for one last kiss, and then he handed me my phone. “You’d better take that.”
I did. Jerry told me to meet him and the others at Bighorn Billy’s for a filming wrap-up. When I hung up, Doc was straightening the mess we’d made on his desk.
“I have to go.” I stuffed the phone in my tote.
“I heard.” He half sat on the corner of his desk. “When is Zoe taking Addy and Layne down to your parents?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Do you want alone time with them tonight?”
I smiled, appreciating his unspoken offer. “We’ve had alone time for almost ten years, so if you feel up to spending the evening with us, I’d like that.”
“There’s a PBS special on this evening about the engineering behind some of the well-known Maya temples. Layne asked me to watch it with him.”
“Okay, but you’re stuck with Addy and me, too, and probably Aunt Zoe as well.” She’d finished with the glass order for Denver and had it all ready to ship off after the holiday.
“I’m cool with all of them except for you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He nodded. “With you, I’m always hot.” He fanned himself and pretended to swoon. I grinned, lightly slapping him on the shoulder before kissing him goodbye.
I headed back out to my SUV and down the road, my head still floating in the clouds all of the way to Bighorn Billy’s.
* * *
Thursday, November 22nd (Thanksgiving Day)
Doc spent the night at Aunt Zoe’s.
This time, instead of the couch, he slept in my bed with the kids snoozing right down the hall.
And he slept with me in the bed next to him under the sheets all night long. Apparently, those three words I’d told him earlier in his office had acted like a golden ticket for him to enter my boudoir.
My camisole and underwear ensemble had earned me plenty of ogling and touching from him, but in spite of sharing a bed we hadn’t done more than get handsy under the sheets. It was more of a test to see how our slumber parties would go over in the future while Aunt Zoe and the kids were within hearing distance. Although, there’d been a moment shortly a
fter the sun had risen when I’d teased him awake with my mouth and he’d almost finished me with his tongue. But then the kids had started fighting in the bathroom so I’d had to hit the pause button and go play referee.
I gave both Addy and Layne a technical for fouling up my chances of early morning nookie. Only I didn’t use those exact words and instead threatened to ground them if they acted like rotten brats at their grandparents’ house while under Aunt Zoe’s care. All the while I had to pretend I wasn’t feeling well, staying in my bathrobe to go along with the ploy Aunt Zoe and I had planned as my excuse for not attending Thanksgiving at my parents. This turkey day would be spent with an ectoplasmic rotten brat and her creepy clown doll instead of my own sweet monsters. Lucky me.
The kids didn’t seem to notice that Doc had slept in my bed instead of on the couch since he was dressed in his jeans and a flannel shirt when they made it downstairs, and I didn’t make a grand production of it. We’d cross that bridge when they caught him in my sheets some other day.
After a quick breakfast of cereal for the kids, I fake swooned and held my stomach while I kissed each of them goodbye. “Remember,” I warned, “you two need to be good for Aunt Zoe and your grandparents.”
“Yes, Mother,” Addy said, slipping her arms into her coat. “Don’t forget to feed Elvis and let her outside a few times to air her feathers.”
“I won’t. Don’t believe anything your Aunt Susan tells you.”
“We know, Mom,” Layne said while looking from me to Doc, who stood in the kitchen archway, and back again. His little forehead wrinkled.
“And give your Uncle Quint a big hug and sloppy kiss on the cheek from me,” I added.
“I can’t wait to see Uncle Quint,” Addy’s voice was high pitched and giggle-filled as she zipped up her coat. She pulled open the front door and skipped outside. “Hurry up, Aunt Zoe!” Without a backward glance, she was gone.
My brother had a way of making females act silly like that.
Layne dragged his feet even though I knew he was just as thrilled to see his uncle. “You could come to Thanksgiving later after your stomach starts feeling better.”
“We’ll see, sweetheart. In the meantime, don’t worry about me and have fun. Your grandfather told me last week on the phone that he wants to have an Indiana Jones marathon with you today.”