by Tami Lund
“If we’re going swimming somewhere, I’m going to need a towel and a coverup and sunscreen and—”
“I’ve got it all covered. Well, except for the coverup, but it’s just going to be us, so you don’t need to feel self-conscious.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bossy?”
He laughed. “Nope. Never.” After cleaning up the glasses and returning the Jamison to the kitchen, he pocketed his wallet and phone and her car keys.
When he pulled into his parents’ driveway, he left her in the car and hurried out to open the garage door. Whew. His father’s vehicle was absent.
“Is this your house?” she asked as he helped her out of her seat.
He decided to be honest with her. Well, honest enough. “It’s my parents’ house. Don’t worry, they aren’t here. But check this out.” He took her straight through to the backyard.
She gasped. He looked around at the bright flowers and green lawn, the pergola draped with morning glories, the pool with its crystal clear, blue water, shimmering in the sunlight. The inviting deck and cushioned furniture. It truly was picture perfect.
His mother had left a note propped on the glass top table. He rolled his eyes as he read the words scrawled on the inside, which informed him that she’d left a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge. This was definitely not a champagne moment. But he knew where the Jamison was, so it was okay.
“This is breathtaking,” Amelia said.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” For his entire life, during the summer months, if they weren’t at a racetrack somewhere watching one of his brothers compete in motocross, they were out here, enjoying the paradise his parents had worked so hard to provide for all of them.
“Do you want to chill for a minute or put on your swimsuit?” he asked.
“Definitely put on my suit. That water is far too tempting.”
“I get it.” He returned to the garage, entering through the kitchen because he knew that door would be unlocked. Freddy greeted them, tail wagging so hard his entire body shook.
“Oh my gosh, he’s adorable. Or it is a she?”
“He. Freddy Krueger.”
She laughed, already more relaxed than he’d witnessed since they met. He didn’t like that she couldn’t even fully chill at her own home.
“I’m going to take you upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms so you can change. I think it will be easier than doing it in the bathroom on the main level.”
He deposited her in what used to be Philip’s room and then headed to his own bedroom to change into his swim trunks. When she called out that she was ready, he opened the door and paused to drink her in.
Her hair was still in a bun, escaped tendrils curling around her face and brushing her bare shoulders. The bikini bottoms were simple, high cut on her hips. The top tied behind her neck like a halter and had an extra-long ribbon at the bottom that wrapped around her upper torso twice before tying in the middle of her back. It was understated, sexy, and he only minutely noticed because he was too busy admiring her figure, the shape of her breasts, the indention at her waist, the flare of her hips, the leanness and length of her legs.
He wanted to drop to his knees and worship at her feet. With his tongue. And hands. And camera.
He wanted to capture her simply existing. He knew, without a single doubt, it would be the greatest work he’d ever done.
“I thought you said I don’t have to feel self-conscious,” she said.
He swallowed thickly. “You don’t.”
“Then why are you staring so hard?”
“Because you’re beautiful. And I want to take your picture.”
“Excuse me?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, that sounds weird, I’m sure. I’m an amateur photographer. Do it mostly as a hobby, although I’ve picked up a few paid shoots here and there. It’s actually what I majored in, in college.”
She canted her head. “Are you good?”
He shrugged. “I can hold my own.”
“Why don’t you do it professionally?”
That’s the million-dollar question. He dragged his hand through his hair and shrugged again.
“Can I see some of your stuff?”
“I left my laptop at your house, but, yes, when we head back, I can show you what I’ve done.”
“Thanks. Now about that insanely gorgeous pool down there…”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Time to get down to the business of helping her forget about her worries, at least for a little while.
Chapter Twelve
This little slice of paradise that he’d introduced her to was certainly distracting. But if Amelia were being honest with herself, it was Elliot himself who was the most distracting of all.
In nothing but blue and white swim trunks. Literally, nothing. Men didn’t wear underwear with swim suits.
And wet, too—couldn’t forget that.
He’d helped her get situated on a floating raft, a drink in her hand, and then he’d dived in, slicing through the water like a dolphin and emerging, all sleek muscles, water streaming off his body. She’d stared—luckily through sunglasses—as he wiped water off his face and sloughed the wetness from his hair.
Her body turned to molten lava despite the cool temperature of the pool.
She wanted to do wicked, wicked things with him. In the pool. Over there under that pergola. On the lounger. And then again when they returned to her condo.
She hadn’t even realized she had such an active libido until the moment his head surfaced from under the water.
It was wrong, though, these thoughts tumbling through her head. She was the man’s boss, for God’s sake. He’d just signed all the paperwork this morning. Gerard Glass had a clear policy on relationships in the workplace: no fraternizing with a direct subordinate.
It was hard to remember that, though, while she watched him move effortlessly through the water, doing laps, those muscles on his shoulders bunching and releasing in the most tantalizing way. She knew he was strong, considering how frequently he swept her into his arms and carried her wherever she needed to go, but knowing and having visual proof were very different scenarios.
Dipping her fingers into the water, she flicked cooling droplets onto her face and chest. Her bad leg was suddenly significantly colder, and she opened her eyes to see Elliot dribbling water on her knee.
“Feel better?” he asked, lazily swimming around her as she floated on the raft.
“Much. Thank you. This is the perfect distraction.” She did feel better, despite being all wound up inside. But at least she wasn’t thinking about work. Her father. His plan for Thursday.
“Stop,” Elliot commanded, and she blinked rapidly.
“Stop what?”
“Thinking about it.”
She chuckled. “Busted.”
“Good. No negative thoughts, at least not for the next couple hours.”
She could handle that. Had she ever done this before? Just relaxed, tuning out the rest of the world?
Not since she was fourteen. Not since Mom died and her world turned upside down and inside out. Certainly, not since she took over Gerard Glass and had to prove her worth every second of every day—to her own father. No one else at that company questioned her every move. Not even the board. Hell, everyone else always seemed impressed by her decisions. They cheered her on.
When her father wasn’t around, of course.
“I’m losing you again.”
She glanced over at Elliot, whose torso now rested on a floating raft while his lower half was in the water, moving around the pool at a leisurely pace.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I can see it in your face when you start thinking about work. You get these lines in your forehead and your mouth sort of pinches.”
She touched her lips. That was some minute detail to notice about a person. But then again, he was a photographer. “Tell me more about your photography.”
“What do you like to take pictures of?”
“Landscapes and action shots, mostly. When one of my brothers used to race, I always had my camera out, capturing bits and pieces of the competition. I took all the pictures for Danny’s website when he first started making a name for himself in motocross. Sold a couple of shots to a few online magazines, too.”
“That’s such a cool…hobby.”
“Yeah.”
“Why is it a hobby and not a profession? Is it too hard to make a living or something?”
“Now I’m the one going down the rabbit hole of unpleasant thoughts.”
“Why do you say that?”
He shrugged, causing gentle ripples to push away from his body and make their way toward her. “I love doing it; it’s the one thing I’m the most passionate about in life. But I have a lot of regrets tied to it. To decisions I’ve made in the last few years.”
“Sounds like we need more Jamison.”
He chuckled.
“Would you mind helping me off this thing? I’m hot, and I’d like to get into the water for a few minutes.”
“Not at all.”
He released his own floatie and swam over to her, pushing her raft into the shallow end so that he could stand while sliding her off the contraption and into the water.
He grasped her waist, holding her upright while she balanced on one leg. She placed her hands on his biceps, her fingers flexing. They simply couldn’t help themselves. Yep, all that muscle was hard as steel.
“Thanks.” Her voice was awfully breathy.
“Feel better?”
“Not really.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
She couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, but she saw the eyebrow arch.
“Yes, I feel better, thank you,” she managed in a strangled voice.
“But…?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing.”
With his hands still firmly latched onto her waist, he began slowly moving toward deeper water. She gasped and grabbed onto his arms as her good leg slid out from underneath her.
“I got you,” he assured her, and then added, “So, what’s with the ‘not really?’”
She hopped along, trying to keep up with him, but the water was getting deeper and deeper and he wasn’t stopping. Finally, she threw her arms around his neck, which pulled her so close to him, they could kiss. If they were so inclined.
He stopped moving and slid his arms around her waist, staring down at her. At least, she thought he was staring, although with the sunglasses it was hard to tell.
Something else was getting hard too.
Whoa. She glanced down between them. There wasn’t much space, but it was enough to see that there was a definite bulge in the front of his swim trunks.
When she looked up again, his facial expression hadn’t changed, he hadn’t moved.
She stared at his sunglasses, willing him to move closer. She wanted those lips pressed against hers. She wanted to feel all those muscles up close and personal. She wanted…
“Kiss me,” she whispered, and she could tell his eyes widened behind the sunglasses. But he acted shocked for only a moment before he lifted one hand from her waist, threaded it into her hair, then canted his head and moved closer. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt his lips, the slight pressure, followed immediately by more insistent movement as he parted his lips and his tongue flicked out.
She tightened her grip around his neck and sank into him, into the sensations. She wrapped her legs around his waist, craving the feeling of that bulge rubbing against her core. He lowered his hand so that he cupped her ass, holding her in place as he continued to plunder her mouth.
“Elliot,” she whispered against his lips. “I want…”
“I know. Me too.”
Did they dare? Just kissing him had already crossed a professional line. If they did more…
It was feasible, of course, that they could be two consenting adults about this. That they could enjoy a few hours of bliss and agree to pretend it never happened. This didn’t need to carry over into the workplace. It would be a shame that it was only a one-time thing, but that was better than nothing, wasn’t it?
She had so much going on in her life, so much pressure, and while chilling in the pool had certainly alleviated a great deal of her stress, sex was, without a doubt, an even better stress-reducing option.
“You’re doing an awful lot of thinking right now,” he murmured next to her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth and making her gasp.
“I…that’s definitely helping me lose my train of thought.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her throat as he chased his own kisses from her ear down to her collarbone. She canted her head and thrust out her chest, in case he needed a hint as to where to go next.
“This suit,” he said, one finger trailing along the neckline, dipping into her cleavage before moving up along the top swell of her right breast.
Good Lord, the man was going to make her climax without penetration if he kept this up.
“I really like it,” he finished, his fingers now toying with the knot behind her neck. She held her breath, willing him to untie it, to expose her breasts, to kneed them and suck them one at a time into his mouth. To…
The sound of a dog frantically barking hit her ears, and Elliot froze as if someone had cast a spell over him, before abruptly pushing her away from him, although he still clutched at her waist so that she wouldn’t fall over. Which was good, because she wasn’t sure even her good leg could support her at the moment.
“What…?”
“Someone’s here,” he said, intently watching the house. Freddy only barks if someone uses the front door. It could be a solicitor, which means we can get back to what we were doing, or it could be…”
“Hellooo! Is everyone decent?”
“My mother.”
“Your mother?” Amelia tried to slide out of his grip, slipped, and went under. He pulled her to the surface, sputtering and gasping. She pushed her hair out of her face and said, “I thought they weren’t going to be home anytime soon.”
“Me too. She was supposed to text me when she was on her way. Except, shit, my phone is way over there on the table.”
“Your mother,” Amelia repeated.
This wouldn’t remotely be an issue if they were simply friends or co-workers, but after that kiss, well, Amelia was certain it would be obvious on her face what they’d been up to. If not obvious by the state of his body. It was a lot harder for men to hide their desire than women.
“This is not good,” Elliot said. “She’s going to think we’re dating. Actually, it’s going to be worse than that, because she knows I spent the night at your house last night.”
“Oh shit,” Amelia whispered. “What in the world are we going to do?”
He grimaced. “Gird your loins.”
The nearby sliding glass door opened, and two people stepped out. A man and a woman, followed by Freddy Krueger, and Amelia could see a bit of Elliot in each of them. Well, not the dog, of course.
The woman, with dark hair and smiling eyes, had an air of elegance about her while the man was an older version of Elliot. An older and still very attractive version. Based on his genes, Elliot was going to continue to be a looker for many decades to come.
“I’ve been texting you,” the woman said and then paused. “Oh, hello. I’m Deanna Bryant, and this is my husband, Joe.”
She gave a feeble wave. “Amelia Gerard.”
“Oh, like the local glass company.”
“Yes. It’s my father’s—” She cleared her throat. “My father started it, actually.”
“Really? We used you all when we had the windows replaced a few years ago. Excellent craftsmanship.”
That familiar sensation of pride at a job well done swelled in Amelia’s chest. Her reasons for taking ov
er as COO had been to prove herself to her father, but she couldn’t deny the pride she felt over the success of the company. “Thank you.”
“Anywho, sorry to interrupt whatever was going on here…” Deanna fluttered her fingers and smirked.
“Nothing was going on, Mom.”
Amelia was pretty sure her face was turning into a tomato, giving lie to his assertation.
“Uh-huh. So I’m sorry to have interrupted, but you all need to get out and get dressed.”
“Why?” The tone of Elliot’s voice was loaded to the brim with suspicion.
“We need to get on the road.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Camila’s having the baby!”
Chapter Thirteen
“Oh shit,” Elliot said, glad the few moments of chatter had given time for his erection to deflate so he could get out of the pool without, hopefully, Mom making some snide comment, like she knew damn well what they’d been doing in the pool before she interrupted.
She probably did. The woman had a sixth sense about her kids, it seemed. Why else would she have used the front door?
Well, hopefully, this first grandchild would keep her distracted from what may or may not be transpiring between him and Amelia.
“We need to get dressed, and then I need to take Amelia home, except, shit.” He glanced at the woman in question. She was looking back at him with wide eyes behind her sunglasses.
“My brother,” he explained. “Sounds like his wife is having her baby. They live over on the west side of the state. If I go, you’re going to be alone for the rest of the evening, possibly overnight. I’ll make sure I’m back for work tomorrow, but—”
“Your dedication to her is adorable, sweetheart, but if it’s really so difficult to be away, just bring her with us,” Mom suggested.
He grimaced. “That’s not it, Mom. She’s injured.” He waved at her leg, even though his parents wouldn’t be able to see that anything was wrong through the water. Plus, being in the pool had reduced the swelling, and other than the discoloration as a result of the bruising, it was finally starting to look normal.
“I banged up my knee pretty bad yesterday,” Amelia said. “I can’t walk without help at the moment. That’s why Elliot stayed with me last night.” She shifted her focus to him. “I’ll be fine. You need to go be with your family. I’ll figure it out.”