Shape Of My Heart
Page 14
She never expected to hear it playing in Josh’s house, and he had it on just loud enough for it to create that ambient relaxation you’d feel when you went to watch the opera, ballet, or listen to an orchestra.
Josh was in the living room sitting in the armchair with a low fire going in the antique fireplace. It was just like the vision she had when she first saw this room. Josh was reading a book. He looked tired but a hundred times better than on Sunday.
His lips slid up into an easy smile when he saw her enter. She walked over and stood a few paces away from him.
“Hi.” He gave her a warm smile.
“Hey.” She returned the smile and gazed into the openness of his enchanting eyes. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I think so.”
“I love the music.”
“It’s my sister’s compilation. It’s all the pieces she performed to.”
He’d told her all about his mother and sister on Sunday. It was difficult for him to talk at first but then he did. She was intrigued to hear all that they’d done, and truly impressed. More than anything she was thoroughly captivated by the way he spoke about them. His eyes brightened and his face lit up with pride. Just like it did now. That must have meant that yesterday’s visit to the cemetery had helped him in some way.
“It’s beautiful.”
He looked her over from head to toe and said, “Yeah, you are.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks warmed as he continued to stare. “What are you reading?” The book looked very old.
“Poetry.”
She started to laugh. She’d probably have the same reaction if she came in and found him reading the bible.
“What?”
“Are you serious? It’s actual poetry?” She didn’t know if she could believe that.
“Yes. Look, see.” He held it out to her and she took it. It was a collection of post-romantic poetry and she could see that her favorite poet was listed in there: Alfred Tennyson. “Believe me now?”
She leaned her head to the side and handed the book back to him. “Josh, I feel like I just walked into the Twilight Zone. But the good part. I think.”
He chuckled. “You don’t believe I like poetry?”
“It’s hard to get my head round.” She looked at him and observed his overly masculine presence and stature. There was no way that she would guess that he had a softer side, one that would appreciate classical music and poetry. But here he was. “What’s your favorite from the book?”
“‘In Memoriam’ by Tennyson.” He said it without thinking.
She loved that poem, and anything by Tennyson.
“That’s a really long poem.”
“Doesn’t bother me, princess.” He straightened up and smiled, setting the book down on the coffee table, then recited, “Be near me when my light is low, when the blood creeps, and the nerves prick. And tingle; and the heart is sick. And all the wheels of being slow.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. He was actually quoting the poem.
He smiled when he saw her reaction and continued, “Be near me when the sensuous frame is rack'd with pangs that conquer trust. And time, a maniac scattering dust. And life, a fury slinging flame.”
She thought she’d do a little reciting of her own and join him. “Be near me when my faith is dry,” she cut in. His smile widened. “And men the flies of latter spring. That lay their eggs, and sting and sing and weave their petty cells and die. Be near me when I fade away. To point the term of human strife. And on the low dark verge of life the twilight of eternal day.”
“Well this is interesting, now isn’t it,” he stated. “Now we have something in common.”
“Yes. I never took you for the poetry reading type.”
“My sister could tame the inner beast.” He nodded then glanced down at the book for a second.
“How was yesterday?” she asked tentatively. She’d worried that being at the cemetery would wear him down again.
He nodded. “It wasn’t terrible. I talked. I tried to talk to them as if they were still here. And I realized that as long as I remember them they’ll never leave me.”
That was beautiful, and she was happy for him.
“They won’t.” She nodded with reassurance.
“Thanks for being there the other night, and well…for still being here.”
“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”
“I’m sober.” He smiled. “This is my second day without a drink. My hands are shaking, but other than that I think I’ll be fine.”
She looked at his hands and noticed a slight tremor as he held them out. She’d heard that shakes were a bad withdrawal symptom when you stopped drinking. She hoped he wouldn’t experience it worse than what she saw.
“I may be able to relax you a little.” She beamed at him.
“What do you plan to do?” There was a saucy glint in his eyes that made her nerves scatter.
“Give you a neck rub.” She gave excellent massages.
He frowned. “Just my neck?”
She giggled. “I can do a shoulder massage, too.”
“Come on, then, princess, don’t keep me in suspense.”
She moved over to him and went behind him so she could place her hands on his shoulders. The muscles on his neck were equally as firm as his chest. She’d never known anyone with such sharp muscle definition. In New York, she’d seen male models do their photo shoots, but he wasn’t a male model he was an athlete. The muscles were different. And he was very tense.
“You have to relax,” she told him as she tried to work her fingers through his muscles.
“I don’t know if I can, this feels awfully kinky to me.” He looked up and gave her a cheeky smile as she pressed into his shoulders.
“Josh, it’s a shoulder massage. How can that feel kinky?”
“It just does. Are you sure this isn’t something we should continue upstairs in a nice silky bed?”
“Josh.” She smacked his shoulder playfully and he caught her hand.
“What? I can’t help who I am. Besides, I don’t want Hilda coming in and getting the wrong idea.”
She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “That makes no sense. Wouldn’t being in bed upstairs give her the wrong idea?”
“No, because if we were in bed upstairs there would be no guessing as to what we’d be doing. If she see’s us like this she’ll just wonder, but never be quite certain if something’s going on between us.” Trust him to say that. She didn’t know how he came up with these reasonings.
“But there isn’t anything going on between us.”
“Isn’t there?” He raised his brows.
She guessed kissing him on the beach tended to negate that statement, and so did not wanting to stop.
Or, thinking about kissing him now.
She didn’t know what kind of charm he’d worked on her to completely bamboozle her, but it worked and she needed to get it out of her system.
“You’re my boss, and I’m working. We shouldn’t flirt like this at work.”
“Baby, it’s five to nine. I have five more minutes of flirting.” It was indeed five to nine.
Even she had to laugh. “You’re seriously like this all the time?” She thought the drink may have talked most times.
“I’m like this all the time.” He nodded.
She rolled her eyes at him and continued to rub his shoulders.
Her work with him took off from that day. The weeks that followed saw her crazy busy, running around all day trying to balance everything and accompanying him to various events and meetings. The events took up the whole day and most times she was with him way past her normal working hours.
Everything was on track, and the best news ever was that her mother now had a date for surgery. An actual date, scheduled for the end of the month. It gave Amy that sense of accomplishment and hope. She had planned to take that week off to be with her mother. It would be good for her, too, because
they hadn’t seen each other in months.
Things were looking up and she thanked God that Josh was doing well.
She was proud of the way he’d shaped himself up, and how serious he was about focusing on playing again. They spent a lot of time together on these outings and she was pleased to say that he’d been sober for over six weeks now. He was a new man, one who was determined to get his life back in order. She also hadn’t seen Allegra and Cindy, or any other woman coming or going from the house. Everything had turned out better than she’d hoped.
The cherry on top was watching him organize himself and prepare for training. She didn’t realize that when she was being told about training weeks ago that it would be an all-day thing.
Amy couldn’t begin to imagine what they would do all day, but that was because she wasn’t an athlete or, more specifically, a Gladiator. Josh told her that they trained with the sun, and sometimes long after it set. She supposed that was why they were so good and the leading champions. Other than her morning jog she used to do back in New York she didn’t exercise. She planned to start running again after the showcase. The beach was the perfect location for that and she’d have more time then.
Having some organization gave her the chance to fit in the time she needed to finish off her dress and portfolio weeks before she had planned. She was very happy with what she’d done and thought it kept with the unique qualities found in a Dior designer.
She’d gone with a spring theme and called her collection Metamorphosis, to represent the changes you could see during the spring time. Her style and taste was very European mixed with an air of bohemian chic, so she’d drawn stylish designs that mingled pastel shades with unique accessories. Dior didn’t just create a look, but a language recognizable in every season and across the world. She wanted to capture that with her designs.
Finishing it made her feel good and she could tick it off her mental list of things to do. It also made her look forward even more to the showcase. Most designers were going in with their models. She was going to be both designer and model. It wasn’t unheard of and she was sure she wouldn’t be the only one. Money and time prevented her from getting a model, but honestly, she preferred it this way.
She heard the front door open. That would be him now. She was in the office finishing up some emails she wanted done before she left for the weekend.
“Baby, are you still here?” he called out from the hallway.
She smiled to herself when she heard his voice.
“I’m in the office,” she answered.
She looked away from the computer screen as he came inside looking worked out in his tight, long-sleeved black training top and matching trousers. He looked like a walking advert, proudly displaying the Nike swoosh on the side of his chest and the edge of his hip.
He looked bigger to her, more muscular. She guessed that what training all day did. When he smiled at her she noticed a bruise on his left cheek.
“What happened to your face? You have the USA Today shoot next week.”
“Gage hit me. That feral creature. I swear he belongs in the wild.” He came around to her. “Baby, it’s nearly six, pack that shit away.” He grimaced when he realized he swore. “I mean stuff.”
She giggled, appreciating his attempt. “I have to send these emails, then I’m gone.”
“Gone? Now that I’ve seen you I’m not letting you leave.” He gave her a cocky masculine grin. “Come here, your man needs you.”
Anyone would think they were a couple, but it was harmless fun.
Well…to some extent. It would help a lot if she didn’t get all weak-kneed girlie when he said things like that.
“Josh, Perry Henderson needs to have the reports for the expenses over the last few months and I have to sort them.”
“Perry?” Josh narrowed his eyes at her. “Who is he even?”
“The team’s accounts manager.”
“He’s accounting at this hour?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Pack it away and come here.”
“No, I have to—”
Before she could refuse again, Josh took her hand and pulled her up from the chair. He fixed his gaze on her legs as she stood and the edges of her skirt floated around her thighs.
“Jesus, look at you. How can you hide your fine self behind that desk?” He continued to stare at her legs.
“I’m working.” Thank goodness he was staring at her legs and didn’t see her blushing uncontrollably.
“Like hell you are. You finish at five. We should go hang out.” He brought his gaze back to her face and reached out to touch her chin.
“Hang out? Doing what?”
“There’s a number of things I can think of.” The look he gave her told all. It was purely sexual, no mistake about it.
“Josh, it’s imperative that I get back to work.” It probably wasn’t imperative, but she couldn’t be like this with him. Him, with his overpowering sexual magnetism that weakened her resolve.
They’d gotten on well over the last few weeks, gotten on with the tasks and work set out for them, but there was one thing she was becoming openly aware of and that was the invisible web of attraction building between them. It increased daily and it was starting to be something she found difficult to escape. Some days she caught him looking at her, shamelessly checking her out. At other times, he’d give her this look of appreciation. Of course her mind told her to resist, but her body and her heart refused to listen.
“Imperative my ass. Hang out with me, baby.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.” At least she was trying.
“Yes, you can. All you have to do is come upstairs with me.”
“Upstairs?” She pressed her lips into a tight smile.
“Yes, upstairs.”
“Where upstairs?”
“My room, baby.” He smiled again, looking her over seductively. “Clothes are optional, although no clothes is always best.”
She swatted his hands away as he reached for her. “Josh, you are going to get me in trouble.”
“How much trouble can you get in if I’m your boss?”
“A lot.” She tried to get around him but he blocked her.
“Amy, come on. It’s been weeks now.” He pretended to pout. She giggled and held his gaze.
“Weeks since what?”
“Our beach fling.”
Fling. What a way to put it. Her cheeks warmed.
“And I’ve been good,” he added. “Really good.”
She didn’t know what to say to him. It would be wrong for her to give in to temptation, no matter how great it was. The best thing to do had to be to leave things as they were and encourage him to focus on what he had to do.
“You’ve been great. Now, I have to get back to work.”
He watched her with narrowed eyes and that silly half-smile on his face that told her he wasn’t done yet with whatever plan he had up his sleeve. She stepped around him, sat back down, and started typing away at the keyboard, ignoring his intense gaze.
Out the corner of her eye she saw him take off his wrists supports and then his watch, both of which he rested on the side of the desk. She glanced up at him but didn’t encourage any conversation. Best to ignore him, then he’d hopefully leave her alone to work.
She opened up the files with the reports the last PA made. She had to check them and then attach them to the email. Hopefully that would take another hour tops.
Amy had just opened the file for January when Josh pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it over to the ground beside the Xerox copier. She turned to glare at him but the words escaped her as she beheld the site of his masterpiece torso adorned with stunning tribal tattoos.
He was a work of art and she swore he looked like the perfect specimen of what God intended when he made man. Josh was the blueprint and she noted that he looked dramatically different to when she saw him shirtless weeks ago. To her he looked like he’d accumulated more muscle and he looked more sculpted. He’d be
en eating super healthy and having these superfood shakes he called his magic punch.
Put that together with his training and this was what you got. The extremely overconfident man standing tall and proud before her who took pride in his amazing looks and the way she was looking at him.
“What are you doing?” Amy hissed trying to stop her blood from coursing through her veins at a hundred miles an hour. There was no doubt that her cheeks were now red and the uncontrollable; blushing had seized her once again.
“Stripping.” He said it like it was nothing, like he was gardening or something.
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Yes.” He nodded and smiled. Then to her surprise he switched off the computer and, with one swift move, picked her up. She shrieked when he tossed her over his shoulder as if she was a ragdoll. It brought the image of a caveman up in her mind and she tried to stop herself from laughing. That would have thrown her annoyance at him.
“Josh, you put me down this second,” she yelped, smacking his back, which was also covered in more tattoos.
He answered by switching off the office lights and closing the door as they went through it.
“Josh, you’re my boss. I work for you. This is not good work behavior.” It was fruitless. Her attempts were fruitless.
He carried her into the sitting room and set her down.
“Perry is going to go mad.”
“Perry can go fu—”
“Language, Josh,” she hissed, giggling.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I always talk like this. It’s football language.” He winced. “Okay, this is what I’ll tell Perry if he complains. I’ll tell him go fill himself with something because we’re busy after five.”
She’d met Perry last week. He seemed to be one of those men who were very particular and professional. She’d offered her usual smile and pleasantries but he barely acknowledged her and launched into a lengthy conversation about what he needed her to do. He barely took a break to breathe as he spoke.
“Then he’ll say, ‘busy doing what’.”
“We’re fooling around.”
“You can’t say that to him,” she retorted. She knew he would do it. That was his character. Very open minded and liberal to the point where he just said whatever was on his mind. Didn’t matter what it was. Josh just spoke and did as he wanted. The last thing she needed was for people like Zelda to think that she wasn’t serious about her work and replace her. “And we aren’t fooling around.”