The Boss Next Door (Harlequin Heartwarming)

by Fox, Roz Denny

  Garrett tossed two duffels into the back of the truck before laying a restraining hand on his exuberant son’s head. His gaze skimmed Sherry’s suitcase, then settled warmly on her face. “Welcome home. You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for having spent a week hassling our public servants.”

  Sherry searched for signs of displeasure in his eyes and saw none. The knots in her stomach unfurled. He did want her to go. Which meant he hadn’t volunteered her, after all.

  “Can I go, too? Can I, Dad? Can I?” Keith twirled under his father’s hand, chanting his request like a mantra.

  “Not this time, son. Hey, no long face. You’re meeting Crawford’s grandson. Your mom said Crawford bought tickets for all of you to see the Rams game.”

  Keith looked so terribly unhappy Sherry rushed to say, “Next week, if the weather’s still good, how about if your dad and I take you someplace special?”

  Her announcement piqued Keith and Garrett alike.

  “Are you familiar with Precious Moments figurines?” When they both nodded, she boosted Keith into the pickup cab. Once they’d buckled in, she explained. “The artist has a chapel in Carthage. There’s a park, gardens, a kid’s castle. It’s neat.”

  “A castle? Way cool! Can we go there, Dad?”

  Garrett backed the truck out and pulled into the traffic. He waved to Lorraine, the flight attendant with whom Yvette now roomed. Sherry hadn’t seen Yvette in more than a week. Odd...and disconcerting. They’d been friends so long. Lorraine had just climbed out of a cab. If she saw them, she didn’t return the wave. Obviously the cold war continued.

  Garrett didn’t give it a second thought. “I’ve tentatively made other plans for next weekend, Keith. Nolan told me about the largest bass-fishing shop in the world. I have a hankering to buy a bass boat so Keith and I can do a little fishing,” he told Sherry.

  Keith clearly had a dilemma. “Me’n Dad love to fish,” he said, appealing to Sherry with sorrowful eyes.

  “No problem, sport. I know the shop he means. My dad and Nolan can get lost in it for days. Better take food and water,” she teased.

  “But the castle would be cool, too.” Keith burrowed closer to Sherry’s side. “It’s fun when the three of us do stuff together. Ain’t it, Dad?”

  “Isn’t,” Garrett corrected softly. “And yes, I guess it is.”

  A gritty lump clogged Sherry’s throat. The wistfulness in Keith’s boyish voice and Garrett’s deeper one forced her to examine some hard truths. She’d thought she had it all with her career and her independent life. She’d always said she didn’t need love—and the things that usually went with it. Like marriage. She’d thought love was something you could control. Not long ago, Emily had tried to tell her that wasn’t so; love had its own methods. She’d tuned Emily out.

  Garrett gave up trying to sort out the series of dark looks on Sherry’s face. She grew quieter and quieter the closer they got to St. Louis. After he’d walked Keith to Carla’s door, he climbed back into the truck and sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Much as I’d like to go on the river cruise, it’s your choice whether we go or not, Sherilyn.”

  She tensed. “I’m here, aren’t I?” She hadn’t meant to snap. It was just that confronting the way she felt—the way her heart felt—about Garrett Lock had sent her nerves into a tizzy.

  “In body, maybe, but not in spirit.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “If you’ve changed your mind, just say so.”

  Garrett patted his shirt pocket. “I bought two tickets.”

  “Would you feel less threatened if I paid for mine?”

  He stopped drumming his fingers. “Me? I’m not. But you seem nervous as a goat on Astro turf,” he said gruffly. More gently he added, “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  “I understand the dinner cruise is considered quite romantic. Should be...fun.”

  He twisted the ignition key and the engine roared to life. “Yeah,” he said.

  Sherry couldn’t be sure, but she thought she detected a tic near the corner of his left eye.

  Garrett parked in the lot next to the docked boat. They continued to sit, watching the river eddy out of sight past the huge boat. Several couples and a family of five headed up the gangplank. The normalcy of the scene released them both. As Garrett climbed out and went to check them in, Sherry waited by the river.

  “I’ll just put our bags in our rooms,” he said on rejoining her. “Meet me middeck near the paddle wheel. The captain said it’s a must for first-timers.”

  “Sounds fine. Oh, you’ll need my room key.” She pulled it from the packet he’d handed her.

  “Listen.” Garrett cocked an ear as he took the key. “Is that a live band?”

  She leafed through a brochure. “A three-piece jazz combo in the lounge. A dance band performs in the dining room tonight. If you’d rather hit the casinos, I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “Bring that brochure. We’ll go to the lounge and discuss options after we shove off. I wouldn’t mind trying the slots, but if you’re opposed to gambling, I’m okay with doing...whatever.”

  “I’m not a prude, Garrett. Some of us go into Kansas City for the jazz festival every year. We hit at least one river casino then.”

  “I like the jazz classics. I’m not much on the really experimental stuff.”

  “The oldies are my favorite, too.” She hooked a thumb toward the lounge. “That kind. Hurry. I hate to miss that trumpet,” she said, tapping a toe.

  He grinned. Then unexpectedly he curved a finger and traced her chin with a knuckle. “Thanks for not begging off. I hoped you’d come.”

  She tilted her head, trapping his palm in the curve of her neck. “You might have said so. Bad communication causes most of the problems between men and women. I like honesty—things laid on the line.”

  He nodded, withdrew his hand, picked up the bags.

  As he jogged off, Sherry gazed after him, paying scant heed to being jostled. An errant cloud drifted over the sun, blocking the warmth, and a breeze ruffled her short hair, chilling her bare arms. That was how fairies delivered premonitions, according to Grandmother Campbell. And premonitions never meant good news.

  Donning a light jacket, Sherry scampered downstairs where she worked her way through a milling throng of people to wait, as Garrett had directed, near the stern. The engines gave a mighty rumble somewhere deep in the bowels of the boat. The paddle wheel rocked and shivered. Where was Garrett? He wanted to see this. Sherry didn’t think he was going to make it in time.

  He surprised her, slipping up behind her to encircle her waist with his arms just as the giant paddle slowly began to turn.

  Those standing close to the wire cage, like Sherry, were sprayed. “Sorry,” she gasped as she jumped back and landed on Garrett’s toe. “I wasn’t expecting a shower.”

  Laughing, he swiped at droplets dripping from her chin onto her blouse.

  As the boat churned into the middle of the river, most of the bystanders left. Sherry hovered near the rail listening to the fading footsteps.

  “Okay. So what’s next, Doc?”

  “Next on the agenda is a drink and checking out the band that’s bringing down the rafters in the lounge.”

  “Do boats have rafters?” Garrett asked, the beginnings of a smile teasing his lips.

  “Beams, then,” she said, dragging him up the steps. “Whatever. Are you always so technical?”

  “No,” he shouted, guiding her toward a table near the band. “Only when I know it’s going to get a reaction.”

  “For that, you’d better buy me a soda.”

  Glad to have her joking and smiling again, Garrett snapped his fingers to attract a waiter and ordered two drinks.

  They each had another before the band broke. Then they headed to the casino wher
e they lost two rolls of quarters to the slots. Neither cared, because they’d become mellow. It was Sherry who pointed out that they should go back to their cabins and dress for dinner. Garrett would have been satisfied to stay and watch the expressions crossing her face when she won, lost or broke even.

  Forty minutes later, when he got a load of Sherry’s dress, Garrett was mighty glad he had listened to her suggestion. The confection she wore was slinky and showed her beautiful back. Tiny crystals sprinkled the flirty skirt, winking each time she moved. Sweat trickled down Garrett’s wrists and pooled in the palms of his hands. His tongue felt oversize. “Nice dress,” he managed to mumble when she tipped her head to one side and gazed at him oddly.

  A sigh whispered through her. Shutting her cabin door, Sherry clasped one of his arms. She’d been afraid the dress was too much. Now she felt smug about her purchase. She’d wanted to make him stare. And she had.

  Tiny lanterns glowed atop snowy tablecloths in the dining room. Each table, privately secluded among old treasure chests, added to the romantic ambiance. The salad was crisp and fresh, the fish grilled to perfection. The band played a mellow mix of old and new, and after dinner Garrett led Sherry to the dance floor.

  If Garrett had to label the evening, he’d call the whole thing...romantic, he thought as they bumped cozily against each other while wandering slowly back to their rooms after dancing the night away. He took her key to open her door and recalled Sherry’s warning that romance was what the cruise had been designed for. Funny, but right now that suited him.

  As Sherry backed inside, he followed to bestow a good-night kiss.

  Pleasantly serene, Sherry rose on tiptoe and nipped teasingly at his lips. Teasing stopped and serene fled when Garrett began kissing her the way she’d dreamed.

  His kiss transported her to places she’d never in her wildest dreams imagined visiting. She spiraled up and up and up until she thought she’d touch the clouds. As Garrett broke the kiss and held her close, Sherry Campbell quietly fell in love for the first time ever.

  Wrapped tight in Garrett’s strong arms, Sherry felt compelled to confess what was in her heart. “I love you, Garrett. And I love Keith. We’ll be a family,” she sighed. “A spring wedding, don’t you think? March? Perfect for new beginnings.”

  Garrett’s heart spilled over. Tonight he could believe in everlasting happiness. Tonight, with her, for the first time in a long while, he believed in love. Believed that having it all—not just a career but a wife, a home, a family—was possible.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A MARKED CHANGE in the drone of the paddle wheel woke Garrett. He sat on a small couch, a weight pressing against his chest. The lethargy in his limbs kept him from bounding up to check on the noise. A sleepy part of his brain, as yet disconnected from his body, seemed content to drift. Drift. He remembered boarding a stern-wheeler with Sherry. Sherry. Garrett’s mind joined his body. It was impossible not to recall the most fantastic night he’d ever had, and the woman responsible for his happiness. He liked the warmth of her body curled against his. Garrett didn’t want the day to intrude.

  Sherry stirred and lifted her head from his chest. Dazed, she decided she’d slept in the same position too long. She had a kink in her neck and other aches. In an attempt to turn she hit a solid obstacle, and Garrett’s morning voice rumbled under her ear like the fading echo of thunder.

  “Easy, easy. Is this what I have to look forward to? You hogging the couch?”

  Sherry smiled as she remembered the glorious night she’d spent with the owner of that gravelly voice. “Are you always such a grouch in the morning?”

  “Is it morning?” He’d hoped the night was still young.

  She stilled and listened to a variety of muffled noises above and below the cabin. “We’ve turned and are headed back to St. Louis. The weekend is almost over.”

  Garrett pulled her close to meet a desperate kiss. His way of telling her that he’d delay the inevitable if he could. He wasn’t good with the words even though he had no problem lecturing to a hundred students or arguing successfully in a room filled with peers. Emotional attachments were different. Harder. He couldn’t seem to put his feelings into words. Carla had said so in her exit letter. Easing up on the kiss, Garrett worked to catch his breath and said with some difficulty, “It’s light out. I have to go.”

  Sherry strained to reconnect. She scrambled off the couch as he stood up. Then she giggled. She couldn’t help it. “Ah. Have I uncovered your deep dark secret? You’re really Dr. Werewolf?”

  She looked so adorable that Garrett hopped back to collect another kiss.

  “You’re too kissable, woman,” he scolded, as she leaned in to steal another kiss. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t complain, but if we leave this boat with me in my tux and you in that purple dress, I guarantee we’ll be the talk of the town.”

  “Party pooper.” She bounced back on the couch. “I expected a man who had a laughing pig on his desk to be more daring.”

  “Laughing pig?” he choked out. “Ah...the paperweight Keith bought me with his allowance. He said I looked too serious at work.” He leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “You think I’m too serious?”

  Sherry wound her arms around him and kissed him so hard, colored lightning flashed behind his eyes. Garrett reluctantly broke away.

  “Meet you on deck for brunch in one hour.” He ripped open the door and barreled out and into a couple who smirked when they saw his wrinkled shirt.

  At the sound of the closing door, Sherry rose, hugged herself and spun around the room in pure jubilation. She never would have believed that love could create such a confusion of feelings. Weakness and strength. Danger and power.

  She vacillated between purring like a kitten and roaring like a lioness.

  Love. Who’d have thought Sherry Campbell, Ph.D., would ever fall so completely head-over-heels in love? Not one person who knew her, that was for sure.

  After she showered and donned her oldest, most comfortable pair of jeans and a faded sweatshirt, she actually peeked in the bathroom mirror to see if the difference she felt inside was visible. Only then did it dawn—her lips and only hers had used the L-word. Garrett had been remarkably silent. Sherry touched the cold glass, and a corresponding chill slithered up her arm.

  Nonsense. Of course he felt what she felt. Love was probably old hat to Garrett. He’d been in love before and she hadn’t. It didn’t take an expert to understand that what they’d shared last night had been cataclysmic and earth-shattering. For him, too. She’d stake her life on it. But...maybe she was too confident.

  She hit the light switch to obliterate her doubting image. Garrett would surely say something when they met for brunch.

  He didn’t. Though attentive, he avoided the topic of them. This, in spite of the fact that Sherry deliberately brought the conversation around to weddings. “It doesn’t seem possible that Nolan and Emily are getting married in less than two weeks.” Sighing, she gazed at Garrett over the rim of the sparkling orange drink she’d ordered to further enhance her romantic illusions.

  “Yeah. Can you believe I’ve held the dean’s job for almost three months?” Garrett glanced around for their waiter and signaled for a coffee refill.

  Sherry blamed the weakness stealing over her limbs on his clean soapy scent, which wafted across the table.

  “Nice weddings take a long time to plan,” she murmured. “Timing is important. Isn’t it too bad Nolan and Emily’s anniversary will always compete with the holidays?”

  “It’s their choice. Speaking of holidays, Keith gave me his Christmas list. And one almost as long for Rags. Can you believe it?”

  Sherry set her glass down hard. “He wants a brother or sister most. He’s very lonely, you know.”

  “Rags?” Garrett wagged his cup again at the tardy waiter who finally stopped to
refill it. “If Keith asked you to soften me up so I’ll buy him that kitten we saw at the pet store, the answer is unequivocally no. NO, in capital letters.”

  Sherry gave up. Not for a second did she think Garrett so obtuse that he didn’t know she’d meant Keith wanted siblings. Nor was she dense. He was dodging the subject of marriage.

  Well, she could be outwardly mature about that. If mountains hadn’t moved for him as they had for her, why not be honest?

  Because men played games. They liked to reel women out and reel them in again on a whim. She drained her drink and stood. Let him play someone else like a big-mouth bass. This fish was bailing out.

  “Excuse me,” she said right in the middle of his recounting Keith’s Christmas list. “I’m sure you’ll figure out what to buy Keith without my help. I’ll see you when we dock. For some reason I didn’t get a good sleep last night. I’m going to take a nap.” And she walked off. Stalked was more like it.

  Garrett puzzled over her little speech for so long his coffee grew cold in the cup. What did she mean, he’d figure out what to buy Keith without her? Had he been dreaming last night? Didn’t Sherry say she loved his son? That they’d be a family?

  Women. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand them. So what if Sherry’s kisses were the best he’d ever known. Neither he nor Keith needed another female running hot and cold, messing up their lives. It was better he’d found out now before Keith got too attached and ended up with his heart in shreds. As for Garrett, he’d been down that rocky road with Carla and had no wish to travel it again. Yet it hurt. Man, did it hurt.

  Throwing some bills on the table, Garrett returned to his cabin. He packed his bag and, though his steps slowed as he passed Sherry’s room, he continued on topside. Scant moments before the Ozark Queen cut her engines and let the current carry her to the dock, Sherry appeared on deck with her suitcase.