by Katie Allen
Calvin didn’t even nod this time.
“Thank you for the frosting,” she said as she slid off the table onto her suddenly shaky legs. Immediately, she felt her face heat with a flush. “That was a stupid thing to say. Yeah. So I’m going to leave now, go back to my desk, and dwell on the fact that I sounded like a total idiot.”
This time, his smile actually showed despite his beard. “You’re fine,” he assured her, his tone implying all sorts of things that made her blush again, although for a different reason this time.
“Thanks.” Lauren smiled back. “I’ll see you...ah, later then.”
He remained silent until she reached the door. “Lauren.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for the cake.”
Blushing once again, she decided to take that as a thank-you for the piece of cake on the plate and not for the taste of frosting in her mouth.
“You’re welcome,” she said and slipped through the door.
* * *
“Dumbass,” Calvin said under his breath. “Motherfucking dumb piece of monkey shit. What am I doing? This is a hell of a good way to ruin her life.”
She’d just felt so damn good. Soft and quivering with excitement, her usual slight scent of interest intensified to full-on arousal...
He groaned. He really needed to quit thinking with his dick.
Even as the thought entered his brain, Calvin knew it was bullshit. Sure, she turned him on like crazy, but that wasn’t the only issue. She was smart and funny and so sweet, and he was pretty sure he was beginning to actually like the woman.
And that was a disaster just waiting to happen.
Chapter Two
“You’re looking at the elevator again,” Stacy snapped.
Her head whipping around guiltily, Lauren automatically responded, “No, I’m not.” She flushed and then backtracked. “Well, I was looking in the direction of the elevator, but I wasn’t intending to look at the elevator. I was just thinking and, you know, generally looking, and my gaze happened to land on the elevator while I was...” When Stacy just stared at her, Lauren looked back with her most innocent expression. “What?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t have a thing for the mail boy,” Stacy told her with a smirk. “You went bright red when he walked by your desk yesterday, and he didn’t even look at you.”
Lauren flushed again, with anger this time. She desperately wanted to protest that Calvin did indeed glance at her with those beautiful eyes. As quick and sideways as that look had been, it’d brought back all the arousal and excitement of the previous day’s kiss. If she told Stacy any of that, however, Lauren knew she’d regret it.
“He’s not a boy,” she said instead. “He’s probably close to thirty.”
“Ew.” The corners of Stacy’s mouth pulled down in disgust. “Thirty and he’s still a mail clerk? I bet he still lives in his parents’ basement too. What a loser.”
Her back teeth squeaked with the effort of holding back the words, but Lauren managed to let the other woman’s comment pass with just a noncommittal sound. She was rewarded when Stacy dropped the subject.
“Do you have those catalog proofs yet?” Stacy asked.
Shaking her head, Lauren told her, “The printer’s having e-mail issues, so hard copies of the proofs are coming over by courier. They should be here—” she glanced at her watch “—ten minutes ago, actually. I’ll go check to see if Megan at the front desk signed for them.”
She hopped up and grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk. On the way back, maybe she could make a detour to the basement and give tall, dark, and scruffy her phone number. If he wanted to kiss her as a thank-you for that number, who was she to turn down a little mail-room make-out session?
Keeping her pace to a sedate walk rather than the exuberant skip that was dying to break out, Lauren made it to the elevator and punched the down button. The doors slid open immediately, and she grinned. Even the elevator wanted her to get some hairy-man lovin’.
As she stepped out onto the ground floor and headed toward the main reception desk, Lauren saw two men in dark suits talking to Megan. Her steps slowed as she eyed the men curiously. She didn’t recognize them and wondered if they were new clients. Neither carried a computer bag or a briefcase, however, and their expressions were a little...grim.
As she approached the side of the reception desk, she gave them a smile. Neither man smiled back.
“Excuse me,” Megan told the men before turning toward Lauren. “Looking for this?” She offered Lauren a large envelope.
“You’re a mind reader, Meg,” Lauren told her, grinning. “Thanks. Want to go out and grab a drink tonight after work?”
“Make it multiple drinks, and I’m in.”
Smiling, Lauren turned away. As she headed back toward the elevator, she heard Megan say, “Let’s see...yes, here he is. Calvin Scott. He works in the mail room.”
“Print off that ID photo. Please.” The way the man asked turned the request into a command. “Where can we find him?”
“The mail room’s in the basement,” Megan told them. “Did you want me to page him?”
“No,” one of the men said. “We’ll go to him.”
The last hints of her smile dropping away, Lauren felt her stomach compress into a tight ball. What did those men want with Calvin? Her steps sped up, and she switched her path, heading to the door to the stairs rather than the elevator. Although she didn’t know Calvin well at all, she thought he deserved a warning before those two rather scary-looking guys descended on him.
Hitting the release bar on the door, she hurried into the stairwell and clattered down to the basement door. She was glad she had her boots on today. Even though they had a high heel, it was thicker than those on most of her shoes and much more practical when it came to running down stairs.
She reached for the door, but it opened before she could touch it. With a startled yelp, she jerked back before the door could hit her.
“What’s wrong?” Calvin asked.
Pressing her hand to her chest, as if she could physically keep her heart from leaping out of it, Lauren took an unsteady breath. “You scared me!”
“I heard you rushing down the stairs,” he said. “What’s the matter?”
“There are two guys at the front desk who are looking for you,” she explained, feeling a little silly now that she was actually telling him. Those guys were probably harmless, and here she was, creeping down the back stairs to warn him he had visitors. He was going to think she was an idiot.
Watching the way his eyes went still and hard, Lauren revised that thought. Maybe the men weren’t so harmless, after all.
“Come on,” he told her. “Up.”
The urgency in his voice cut off any questions Lauren was going to ask—like how he could’ve heard her on the stairs from the mail room down the hall. Instead, she turned and started back up the stairs. Calvin was behind her, not touching but close enough to urge her on, faster and faster, until she was running. At the ground-floor landing, she reached for the door.
“No!” Calvin clipped out, and she yanked her hand back. “Keep going. They’ll be watching the doors.”
“There were only two of them,” Lauren said, confused, although she started climbing stairs again.
“Two that you saw.” His voice was grim.
Glancing over her shoulder, she circled around to the next flight of stairs and asked, “Who are these guys, anyway?”
“Long story,” he said, laying a gentle but urgent hand on her back. “They’re assholes. I’ll tell you later. Right now—climb stairs.”
On the landing of the seventh floor, Lauren was panting. “So what’s the plan?” she asked, hoping it wouldn’t invo
lve fifteen more floors.
“I’m thinking,” he said.
“Which means,” she puffed, “you...don’t really...have a plan.”
“Not yet. Exactly.”
“I do,” she said as they reached the eighth floor. “Meet me in the ladies’ bathroom.” She shoved open the door and stepped into the hall. Although she wanted to run, Lauren knew that would look completely suspicious, so she settled for a brisk walk.
“Hi, Mike,” she said as she passed one of the tech support people. He gave her a nod in return. His eyes passed over her face without seeming to notice anything was wrong, which was a relief. Lauren was afraid everyone could see the way her heart was knocking against her ribs.
She was still carrying the envelope of proofs, so she swung by Stacy’s desk. “Here it is,” she said, placing it next to the other woman’s elbow.
Stacy eyed her curiously. “You look like you’ve been running. Oh gross. Were you making out with that mail guy down there?”
“Of course not!” she said. I wish I had been making out with Calvin. That would’ve been a lot more fun than jogging several flights with him. “I took the stairs. I’m trying to lose some weight.”
“Uh-huh.” Giving her another up-and-down glance, Stacy nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
Holding back an outraged protest, Lauren just plastered on a smile. She had more important things to deal with than Stacy’s bitchy comments. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
Stacy was already pulling out the proofs. “Sure,” she said absently.
As she passed her own workstation, Lauren palmed the small scissors from the cup of writing utensils she kept on the corner of her desk. Struggling to look relaxed and normal and not totally freaked out, she headed toward the women’s bathroom.
Looking around casually—or as casually as she could manage—she didn’t see Calvin anywhere. Had he continued climbing stairs instead of following her onto the eighth floor? A rush of disappointment surprised her. Shouldn’t she be glad she was out of the situation? Those men were probably dangerous—or perhaps Calvin was the dangerous one. Maybe he was an escaped convict or one of those guys who kept killing his wives or a mob boss in hiding or something even worse.
She shoved open the door to the bathroom, happy to find it unoccupied. She checked beneath the partitions to make sure the four stalls were vacant. The place was empty.
At first she paced, but the clunk of her boot heels against the tile floor made her jump, which made her feel stupid for scaring herself, so she leaned against the sink, her fingernails tapping against the counter’s edge. Glancing at her watch, Lauren wondered how long she should wait before giving up and returning to her desk and her normal workday.
“Why am I waiting anyway?” she muttered. “Haven’t I already decided Calvin is probably a dangerous felon and I’d be nuts to get involved with this whole—oh!”
The door swung open and Calvin slipped in.
“This is your plan?” he asked, with one of his beard-concealed smirks. “A pit stop?”
Once she saw him, any plan of abandoning him to the mercies of the suited visitors went out the window.
“Here.” She held out the scissors.
“Thanks?” Accepting them gingerly, he raised an eyebrow. “Kind of a small weapon, isn’t it? Easily concealed, I guess.”
“Your beard,” she said impatiently, gesturing at the wild tangle of hair that covered the lower part of his face. “Get rid of it. They have your ID picture.”
Lauren half-expected another joke but he just nodded.
“You might want to do it in one of the stalls,” she suggested with a shaky smile. “You don’t want to terrify some poor woman who needs to pee.”
“Nope. Wouldn’t want to do that.” There was definitely some humor lurking underneath his words, but Lauren didn’t have time to laugh.
“Leave your hair. I’ll do it when I get back.” She moved past him toward the door. He reached out as if to grab her arm but pulled his hand back at the last second. Lauren paused, looking at him expectantly.
“You’re leaving?” He didn’t sound amused anymore.
“I have to get something. I’ll be right back.”
After a moment, he gave her a slow nod. “Be careful.”
“‘Careful’ is my middle name,” she said and yanked open the bathroom door with a grimace. Of all the middle names, ‘careful’ was a really prissy one to pick. Shaking the thought away, she headed toward Rick Spaulding’s office. Although she knew he was at a trade show for the rest of the week, she still knocked tentatively when she reached his door.
When no one answered, she entered quickly. Rick never locked his office, since he was always forgetting things—important things, like his wallet or cell phone or laptop. He’d call from whatever sales conference he was at and have someone overnight the forgotten item to his hotel. Lauren also knew Rick was messy, spilling food and coffee and any number of things on a regular basis, so he normally kept a change of clothes in his office.
She looked behind his door and there it hung—Rick’s extra suit, complete with shirt and tie, tucked neatly into a garment bag. As a bonus, a spare computer bag was slung over the hook next to it. Lauren grabbed the garment bag and folded it over twice before stuffing it into the computer bag.
Giving the door a little nudge so it closed almost completely, she moved to his desk and checked the drawers. In the bottom left one, she found her prize—a shaving kit. Cramming that on top of the suit and zipping the bag closed, she swung the strap over her shoulder.
Opening the door a few inches, Lauren peeked out to check for anyone walking by or looking in the direction of Rick’s office, but everything seemed quiet. It was the lunch hour, so most people were either in the break room or out of the building altogether. She hurried down the hall, the pilfered computer bag and her purse bumping against her side.
When she reached the bathroom, she felt dizzy with relief. Shoving the door open, she started to greet Calvin but snapped her mouth closed when she saw a woman who was definitely not Calvin washing her hands at the sink.
“Hi, Anne,” Lauren said weakly, forcing a smile. She resisted the urge to check beneath the stall partitions for Calvin’s big, booted, unquestionably male feet.
“Hey, Lauren.” Anne smiled at her in the mirror as she reached for a paper towel. “Megan tells me it’s girls’ night out tonight.”
What? Oh right. Get it together, Lauren! “Can you come?” she asked as eagerly as she could muster.
“Sure!” Anne didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “It’ll be fun. We haven’t gone out in a while. I think Molly and Dee are coming too.”
“Great.” Holding the smile was getting difficult. Lauren’s teeth were beginning to dry out. “First round of shots is on me.” She couldn’t stand it anymore and headed for the stalls, ducking into the first one.
“Shots? It’s going to be one of those nights, then?” Anne laughed as Lauren latched the stall door.
Closing her eyes, Lauren silently begged Anne to leave. “Of course,” she said. Please go, please go, please go. “With all of us there? How could it not?”
“Can’t wait.” There was a small silence and then the wonderful sound of the door opening. “See you!”
“Bye,” Lauren said weakly, her ears straining to hear the soft thud of the door coming to rest against the jamb. When the door closed and there was silence, she waited a few seconds and then breathed, “Thank the blessed bathroom gods.”
“Fucking amen.”
Lauren jumped a foot. “Calvin, if you want me to live through this whole ordeal, you have to quit trying to give me a heart attack, okay?”
He gave an affirmative grunt as she opened her stall door. Glancing beneath the doors, she couldn’t see any f
eet. The voice sounded as if it had come from the farthest stall down, so she checked that door. It was latched.
“Let me in,” she told him. “I’m not crawling under the door.” A sound that might’ve been a chuckle was followed by the click of the door latch releasing. She slipped inside and relocked the door as Calvin sat on top of the toilet tank and continued cutting chunks of hair from his beard.
She had to laugh.
“What?”
“It’s just...” Biting back another laugh, Lauren shook her head. “You look so mangy right now, like moths have gotten to your face.”
“Nice.”
“Don’t be mad,” she teased, hanging the bag on the hook inside the door. “I brought you a present.”
“A laptop?”
“I’m not that nice.” Unzipping the bag, she took out the shaving kit and offered it to him. “For your moth problem. And—” she pulled the suit out and hung it on the door “—new clothes. Well, not exactly new. Newly cleaned, though. Plus, you’re kind of in the beggar’s position of that whole beggars-can’t-be-choosers thing.”
With most of Calvin’s beard hacked off, Lauren didn’t have to guess whether he was smiling or not. She stared at the curve of his lips. It was a nice mouth...a really nice mouth. His bottom lip was so full and sexy, it made her want to bite it.
The thought shocked her and she twisted her head away, determined to keep her gaze away from that tempting mouth. That presented a problem, since now, with his face more revealed than she’d ever seen it, there was no safe place to rest her eyes. From his strong chin up to his hairline, he was mouth-wateringly gorgeous.
Get a hold of yourself, lust-bucket. Lauren ordered her tongue back in her mouth and her stomach to quit doing that warm melty thing.
“Sit there, and I’ll do your hair,” she told him, holding a hand out for the scissors without looking directly at him. With that face in front of her, she only had so much control over her starved libido.
He shifted to sit on the toilet lid obediently while she dug a comb out of her purse and then hung her bag on the overloaded door hook. She climbed up to his recently vacated perch and immediately realized her mistake as his back pressed between her knees. Closing her eyes for a second, Lauren struggled for composure. It wasn’t happening. She gave up and settled for semi-functionality.