“Did you come back to see Chels?” he asked.
“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” He patted the boy on the back and walked to where he’d parked his car.
Josh had a bounce in his step as he jumped into the truck he’d brought back with him from Dallas. Chelsea had been on his mind the entire drive back and the sight of her had filled him with promise. He couldn’t remember when, if ever, a woman had affected him the way Chelsea did and not just in a physical way. The fact that she’d been so clearly pleased to see him had made his day.
Before he realized, he was outside the elementary school where he was to start his day painting the classrooms.
“Josh, I’m guessing?” An older man held out his hand to shake Josh’s. “I’m the school principal here. We really appreciate you doing this. You didn’t have to, seeing as how you didn’t win the bid.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Josh said. “Now where would you like me to start?”
* * *
Chelsea’s mood had improved every day since Josh had been back and she looked forward to his daily visits to the diner. That could be a problem or at least the start of one; she looked for him. On and off all day, if he hadn’t yet been in, she was watching the door and waiting, hoping to see him. When he did show up her heart leapt, until he walked out the door with a smile and she realized that would be the last she saw of him that day. They talked about everything and they talked about nothing. After four days he still hadn’t told her why he was still in town, or even why he’d come back. It irritated the hell out of her, but she still couldn’t bring herself to ask what he was doing there, so she waited for him to just tell her. When she finally did get her answer, it came from an unusual place, not from Josh himself.
“I’m so sorry, Fred!” Chelsea tried to mop up the mess that she’d made; cold coffee dripped off the table and into Fred’s lap.
“Just leave it, girl, will ya, yer makin’ it worse.” He snatched up some napkins and mopped up the coffee himself. “Ya need to switch your head back on, missy. Servin’ people hot stuff while your head’s all in the clouds over that young fella.”
“I know, Fred, and I am sorry I spilled your dregs, but the coffee wasn’t hot. I don’t know which young fella you’re talking about.”
“Don’t add lyin’ to your clumsiness. I see ya watchin’ that there door every five minutes to see if he’s gonna walk through it. And the coffee could’da been hot, couldn’t it?” he said.
“I guess, I’m just curious about what he’s doing here, that’s all.”
“He’s paintin’ the school. Saw him luggin’ a ladder in there t’other day. Had paint all over hisself.”
“Why would he be doing that? He didn’t win the auction.”
Fred shrugged. “Prolly hangin’ around to get a little redhead’s attention that he seems taken with. Why don’t you just ask him?”
“I couldn’t.” Really, she couldn’t.
Fred stood up and shook his head before replacing his hat. “You young ‘uns. Always makin’ things so dang complicated. The only way you can get real answers is from the horse’s mouth, everythin’ else is just guessin’. Ask him.” He put some money on the table to cover his check and left, all the while muttering under his breath.
“He’s right, you know,” Sophie said.
Chelsea was about to answer when the subject of all the talk walked through the door. Chelsea’s face flooded with color and she took off at the speed of light to the kitchen to get herself together.
Chelsea drank some water and splashed her face. Maybe Fred was right. Maybe she should just ask Josh everything she wanted to know: why he was still here, why he was doing the jobs for the auction when he didn’t have to, and why he didn’t tell her? Was he trying to drive her crazy, making her wonder? All those questions led to the one that she really wanted the answer for: Was he interested in her? That was why it was so difficult to ask him in the diner. What if the answer wasn’t the one she wanted? If she was going to get her pride battered, then she would rather it happened somewhere a bit more private than a crowded restaurant at lunch time. “Suck it up, princess,” she told herself, “and look on the bright side. He’s still here, isn’t he?”
Decision made to find a more private place to talk to Josh, she took a big breath, straightened her unruly hair, and went back out to face him.
* * *
Josh found himself watching the door to the kitchen over the top of the menu he was pretending to read. When Chelsea appeared, he put the menu down and waited. She arrived with her trusty pad and pencil to take his order. Whatever had her flustered before must have been fixed because she seemed happy enough now.
“Let me guess. A cheeseburger and fries?” she asked.
Josh looked up, pleased to hear the slight tinge of sass in Chelsea’s voice. “Am I that transparent?”
“Pretty much. So far this week you’ve had the chicken fried steak, the fish, and the steak sandwich. The cheeseburger is next on menu.”
“Wow. I need to change it up a bit, don’t I?”
Chelsea giggled. “You want me to bring you a baked potato instead of fries?”
“Let’s not throw caution completely to the wind. We need to keep the food groups together. Everyone knows that burgers go with fries.”
“Ok then, fries it is.”
Now he was smiling, and he was watching that cute little ass as it sashayed into the kitchen. Was she swinging her hips more than she had been the day before? She was, and for his benefit too if he wasn’t mistaken.
* * *
The next day Chelsea woke with a purpose. It was her afternoon off and she’d decided to visit Josh at the school. All she had to do was get through the morning, then she would get some answers and a nice lunch with the man she’d been unable to get out of her mind.
The day dragged more than it ever had before, but her plans were on track. Josh had been in for breakfast early, which meant he wouldn’t be in for lunch. She had the cook pack her a picnic with all Josh’s favorites. When she got to her car, she opened the cooler bag and added the homemade cookie bars that she’d made the night before. Then she took them out again. They were a little burnt around the edges; maybe she should leave them in the car and go get some pie. No, the point of making the cookies was so she could bring something homemade. They weren’t that bad, they were rustic. She really had to get going before she lost her nerve.
Chelsea had never been so nervous. It took two tries to get the engine of her decrepit old car to kick over. Luckily the poor old thing had a nearly new stereo and speakers; that would calm her. Finally on the country road that led to the school, she blasted her favorites and sang along for the full ten minutes that it took her to get to the school.
She cut the engine and waved to Josh as he came out to see what the ruckus was. “Hiya,” she called. “I thought you might like to take a break and share some lunch with me. I made a picnic.”
“Did you now?” Josh wiped the sweat from his brow. “I would love that. I just have to finish up here first, I’ve left the paint can open and the brushes and roller will dry out.”
“No problem, I’ll wait for you to finish.” Chelsea got the lunch bag from the back seat. “I wasn’t really sure whether you’d want to.”
“You shouldn’t have worried, honey, you’ve made my day.”
“Josh, why are you doing all this? You know you don’t have to. That was only if you won the auction.”
“The work still needs doing.”
“That’s really nice.” She took a breath and forced herself to ask the big question. “Is that the only reason you’re still here?” Chelsea held her breath while she waited for the answer.
“You know very well why I’m still here,” Josh said with a grin.
Chelsea blinked as heat crept up her neck, flooding her face with color. Tears of relief danced on her lashes and she giggled with embarrassment. “Really?”
“Yes, really, you silly thing.”
“I’m glad.”
Despite her glassy eyes, Josh could see a smile turning up the corners of Chelsea’s lips.
“Look, I’m sorry about the auction, I took a bit of a gamble on something and I lost.”
“What kind of gamble?”
“I was trying to impress you, to show you that I’m not just about the money.”
“I know that and I wouldn’t say you lost; I know I didn’t. You may have had your date with me and then gone back home. You’re still here.” She beamed, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “Besides, it is the thought that counts.”
* * *
Chelsea met Josh halfway as he leaned in for their first real kiss. His lips were soft and gentle at first, and then he took her in his arms, reveling in the luxury of having her pressed so closely against him, even with the barrier of clothes. He ran his tongue along her plump lips, delving inside when they parted eagerly. There was nothing like that first kiss at any time, but this one was special. When they finally came up for air Josh reluctantly pulled away. “We should maybe stop, for now. This is a bit public.”
“Wanna go behind the library and make out?”
Josh blew out a frustrated breath; he would love that. “I really should get on with this.”
“You’re helping out for free! If you want a long lunch, I don’t think anyone would mind.” Chelsea undid the button of her shirt. “My, it’s hot, isn’t it?”
“It is. I’ll go and finish this stuff and we can go somewhere cooler and relax.”
“You know what, how about I come in and watch while you finish and then we’ll get out of here. We could have a picnic at the lake.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Josh carried the cooler back to the car. He reached for Chelsea’s hand. When he looked down, she was gazing at their intertwined fingers. “What?” he asked with a chuckle.
Chelsea wrinkled her nose. “You have big hands. You make mine look so small.”
“All of you looks small alongside me,” he laughed.
“I know, I like that. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever held hands with a man. Obviously I’ve held hands, you know when I was still in school, but boys’ hands back then weren’t a lot different to mine; not hard and strong like yours. There’s something kind of powerful about a man’s hand.”
“You think so?” he asked. “I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It is.”
Chapter Four
Tom whistled as he drove toward town. No one knew he was coming back today; he wanted to surprise them, Chelsea in particular. He took his hand off the steering wheel to rub the back of his bare neck. It felt completely different, but the stylist had assured him that this was a more up-to-date look than the one he’d been sporting for the last ten years. Maybe the little redhead had been right. She’d better be impressed with the changes he’d made. His favorite tan shade was gone, replaced with what the spa had called ‘Young Blush’ but what actually looked to him like an expensive layer of nothing. The lack of color made him feel naked and vulnerable. He really wasn’t sure about the clothes either. His jeans felt baggy and old-mannish despite what the stylist had tried to convince him of. Still, if it won him Chelsea, then it’d all be worth it. All these changes were for her.
He passed the school and his eyes widened in shock. There was his Chelsea kissing that jackass from the city and it was no chaste peck on the cheek. “That little slut.” That’s why she’d tried to give him the brush. He couldn’t believe he’d let her make a fool out of him. Here he’d gone and done everything she wanted him to do and all the while she was making a fool of him with that Jake or John or whatever his name was. Well, she’d be sorry. Real sorry.
* * *
After another long kiss and a walk to the classroom holding hands, Chelsea perched on the edge of a desk and watched while Josh wielded the roller up and down the wall. She was enjoying herself immensely. It was hot in there and not just because it was summer. She watched as tiny rivulets of sweat trickled down Josh’s well-defined arms. His muscles rippled as he maneuvered the long stick that he screwed to the roller so he could almost reach the ceiling.
“You should really take your shirt off,” she added helpfully. Yes, he really should.
“Uh huh,” he said. “I have to finish this.”
“I know, I was just suggesting that you would be more comfortable with less clothing.” She giggled happily at the stern gaze he turned on her.
“Behave,” he said, bending to dip the roller in the paint.
It was then that Chelsea noticed the paintbrush sitting in the tray of wet paint. Childlike excitement flickered through her and she couldn’t stop herself, she had to do it.
“Hey!” Josh said as he felt a wet drip on the back of his head.
“What’s wrong?” she asked innocently, trying hard not to give herself away.
“Did you just flick me?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Josh felt around the back of his head and captured the small drop of paint on his fingers. “Well, that was naughty. Do I need to find you a chore to keep you out of mischief?”
“No.” Chelsea wished she could have come up with a smart-ass quip, but her tummy was doing flips. Even though there was laughter in his eyes, there was something about Josh’s tone that had shaken her.
“Just as well.” He went back to his painting. “I should only be another fifteen or so minutes and we’ll get out of here.”
Again with the butterflies. It wasn’t altogether an unpleasant feeling, which was lucky because she found herself doing it again. Splat.
“So you want to play?” Josh said, carefully putting down the long painting contraption.
“That was an accident. Really,” Chelsea snickered. She took a couple of backward steps toward the door.
“You can run but you can’t hide.” Josh took a couple of giant steps toward her, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
It seemed to Chelsea that Josh was enjoying their little play fight. It was almost as though he was glad that she’d dared to get him again. “No!” she squealed, doing nothing of any use toward actually getting away from the man who now had her by the arms.
“Oh, yes.” Josh bent and flipped her over his shoulder.
“Josh, put me down! I didn’t mean it!”
Ignoring her, he sat on one of the desks, not even bothering to remove the plastic paint protector. “Didn’t I tell you that it was naughty to throw paint at people?” He flipped her over his knee.
“Wait! What are you doing?” Was he actually going to spank her?
“I’m going to spank your cute behind.” He ran his hand over her round bottom.
“But you can’t!” she squeaked.
“Oh, I think I can. You do the crime, you pay the time.” He brought his hand down with a loud smack.
“Oh my God! You actually smacked me!” She kicked her legs and wriggled sideways. Chelsea tried to get off his knee, but not very hard. Shock hit her hard, but she wasn’t horrified; that surprised her. Surely she didn’t want him to spank her over his knee like she was five years old. Did she? Another sharp smack fell to match the first and she couldn’t think straight.
“Oh my God!” he mimicked with a chuckle. “Just remember why you’re here, missy; you actually flicked paint at me. Twice.” His hand bounced off her blue jeans in a flurry of spanks.
“Stop that!” she squealed, laughing at the same time.
“You, little minx, don’t get to decide when I stop.”
Those words rang in Chelsea’s ears. Little minx. She was still digesting the fluttery feeling the nickname gave her as another flurry of spanks got her attention. Her bottom was definitely getting warmer and her girly bits were tingling. An insistent throb between her legs got more intense every time Josh’s hand connected. She wanted to touch herself to relieve that dreadful ache. Better still, she wanted him to touch her. Who would have thought that a spanking could fe
el so good? Chelsea was so distracted with need that she didn’t even notice that Josh had stopped swatting the back of her jeans.
“I hope you’ll be a good girl now,” Josh said, holding her hips between his legs after he’d helped her to stand. “I wouldn’t want to have to take down those jeans and spank your bare bottom.”
Oh my God, she was unable to put together a thought, she was so turned on by this game. “Um, define good.” Shit, had she said that out loud? She was trying to think of a way to explain what she was thinking without telling the truth. What she really wanted to do was be anything but good so he would take down her jeans, but telling Josh that would be embarrassing beyond belief. She tried to reverse her statement’s damage. “I mean yes, I’ll be good.” Geez Louise, had she lost the power to control her mouth, or was it just her thoughts?
Josh burst out laughing.
Could he read her mind? She felt odd, but good odd, not bad odd. “Oh,” a small moan escaped as he pinched her freshly spanked cheeks.
“I think you like being a naughty girl.”
She was speechless, which was just as well because his lips lowered to hers. He kissed her good and hard, bringing back the tingle, making her want to grind her crotch against him. By the time she’d managed to get herself together, he had moved and set her down where he’d been sitting.
“Like I said. Be a good girl, or else.” He picked up the paint roller and started working again.
“Maybe.” she said, almost under her breath.
* * *
Josh’s back was to Chelsea, so she luckily couldn’t see the look on his face. Amusement turned up the corners of his mouth, but behind his smile, mixed emotions definitely tipped toward relief. He hadn’t planned on spanking her—well, not so soon anyway—but that little game proved one thing to him; she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. In fact, unless he had it completely wrong, she seemed to like it. Of course she wouldn’t have felt any real pain through those jeans and he hadn’t meant her to. When he’d stood her between his legs, he’d seen how her nipples had pebbled, and that was before he’d kissed the stuffing out of her. He would have loved to have dipped his fingers into her panties to see how wet she was down there. Oh, he was letting his mind go down a dangerous track. He was lucky his work coveralls were loose. He needed to concentrate on what he was doing so they could get out of there and enjoy the rest of the day.
The Billionaire and the Waitress Page 5