by Madison, Mia
“But you don’t want to live with her?” Sierra said, her eyebrow raised.
“I like living with you both. I… I feel I can tell you two anything, and I don’t know her too well. I just feel like it would be…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.
“Like breaking up the band?” Kait suggested.
“I guess. Sorry, I know that sounds dumb.”
“No it doesn’t,” Kait said. “I feel the same way, too, at least a little. We’ve been the three musketeers for so long. But things have kind of changed this year, anyway. I’m spending more time with Tyler, and Sierra’s with Ian.”
“And we sleep over at their places sometimes,” Sierra added, a glint in her eye as she no doubt recalled something wicked she’d recently done with Ian. “So even if Liz did live here, there might only be three of us here on any given night.”
“Who knows, maybe you could be spending nights with Luke soon,” Kait added.
My face grew warm, and I could feel the flush spread across my cheeks. “It’s not like that. We only kissed. And besides, even if it we got to that point, we couldn’t do that at his place. The kids would find out.”
“That might not be the case forever, though,” Sierra said. “Face it… things have changed a lot for all three of us in this past year.”
“True.” I didn’t want to sound like a stick in the mud, but I didn’t want things to change too much. Somethings, like our living arrangements, were perfect as they were.
“Just think about it,” Kait said, and then she turned to Sierra. “Do you think Liz would want to move in?”
“I think she’d jump at the chance to get out of her parents’ house. Sounds like they’re half a step away from creating a shrine in Brett’s honor.” Sierra’s pretty face broke into a grin. “Besides, this place is getting quite the reputation at the office.”
“What do you mean?” Kait cocked her head to the side.
“Well, after word got out that I was dating the CEO, people had a lot of questions. And you know me, I’m not one to kiss and tell…” Kait and I laughed. Sierra was definitely not known for being discreet or closed-mouthed. “So I told them a bit about how Ian and I had met, and that I had a friend that was dating her boss, too, and somehow it all came out about our Valentine’s Day pact. They’ve been referring to this place as the Red Hot House.”
Kait dissolved into laughter. “Oh my god, we should have that painted over the doorway.”
“Might as well,” I said with a reluctant grin. “We’re painting everything, anyway.”
“The Red Hot House,” Kait said, still laughing. “Maybe instead of asking Liz to move in, we can auction off the spare bedroom to the highest bidder.”
“Yep, there are a lot of lonely hearts out there,” Sierra agreed. Then she turned to me, her expression growing more serious. “Just think about it, okay? Change is never all that easy—look how long it took me to break up with Joe last year. But sometimes when you don’t change, you start to stagnate.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess that was the whole point of the red hot pact in the first place.”
“Exactly,” Kait said. “And remember, some changes are unequivocally good—like you and Luke dating.”
“Are you dating?” Sierra asked.
Hmm. It was a good question. “I guess so. I mean, he hasn’t asked me out on an official date. But it sounds like he’s open to it.”
“That’s going to be a bit weird on Monday,” Kait said.
“How so?” Sierra asked, pausing to refill our glasses.
“Well, when she walks in his home, is he her employer? Her date? Some combination of the two?”
Crap. I hadn’t really thought of that. Next time I saw him, I’d be on the clock. It wasn’t like we would spend the whole afternoon lying in his bed kissing—though I wouldn’t object to that. “I’m not sure how it’s going to work.”
Kait patted my arm. “You two will figure it out.”
“And I’m sure you’ll have fun doing so,” Sierra added with a wink. “Ian and I sure did.”
10
Gabi
Monday afternoon, I knocked on Luke’s door. There was no answer at first. I pictured him upstairs in his study, working on his computer. I’d last heard from him yesterday, we’d texted a few times over the weekend, but it was mostly about the twins.
The door opened, and there he was in an olive-green button-down shirt that brought out the whiskey tint in his eyes. His jeans were black and slung low on his hips. He looked good enough to eat—or kiss. Or both.
Luke smiled, running a hand along his stubble-lined jaw. “Gabi. Want some coffee?”
I blinked, surprised. “You made coffee?”
He chuckled. “No one in their right mind would voluntarily drink my coffee. I thought we could go get some. Talk a bit before diving into researching another century.”
“Sure. Sounds good.” And it also sounded a bit formal. What did he need to say that required being in public at a coffee shop? It reminded me of those stories you heard about clueless men who took their girlfriend to a fancy restaurant to break up with her.
However, Luke locked up behind us and brushed his hand along the back of my blouse as we walked to his car. That felt good. The touch was so light that it sent shivers up and down my spine and made me want more.
My skin was heated when he held the passenger door open for me. His gaze dropped briefly to my legs as I swung them into the car. I’d worn a white skirt and a lilac blouse. The clothes made me feel feminine and pretty without feeling overdressed. Even though it was late September, the weather was still pretty warm.
We drove to a coffee shop about a mile away, and Luke filed me in on the twins’ weekend. He’d taken them to a farmers’ market on Saturday, and they’d picked out some produce. “You might want to check out what we got before you make the grocery list for today.”
That answered that question—Monday was still my day to grocery shop for the week. What had I expected? That my job would consist of fooling around with him each afternoon until the kids got home from school? That thought was ridiculous—but it also made me shift in my seat a little, warmth between my legs.
At the coffee shop, Luke bought a chai for me and black coffee for himself and we settled in at a table in the corner. He’d brought a folder with him, and he set it between us.
“Paperwork,” he said when I looked at it questioningly. “Assuming you’re still interested in working for me.”
“Of course,” I said, surprised he’d asked.
“Okay then. There are a bunch of forms for you to fill out for tax purposes and stuff.”
I raised my eyebrows as I flipped through the papers. “Did you somehow acquire an HR department over the weekend?”
“I got that all online,” he said. “Turns out you can find relevant information about things from this century, too.”
I closed the folder, looking up to catch him staring at me intently. “I’ll fill these out tonight.”
“No hurry,” he said. “But there is something else we should talk about—what happened on Friday.”
My heart sank. Had he changed his mind again? We’d carefully avoided the topic over the weekend. It was just too tricky and too new to handle by text. “What? But you said as long as we don’t let the twins find out—” I broke off, aware I’d been talking too loud.
He smiled, amusement in his eyes at my outburst. “Yes, but yesterday it dawned on me that they’re not the only consideration. There’s also you.”
“What about me?”
“I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
His words brought back the memory of lying on the bed inches away from him, his hand running up and down my hip. I’d been anything but uncomfortable then. Just the memory of it made my pulse quicken. “I wasn’t uncomfortable on Friday.”
“Neither was I.” His easy grin took my breath away. “Well… at least most parts of me weren’t un
comfortable. At one point my pants felt a little tight. I wonder why?” He winked and I felt my cheeks redden.
“No comment,” I managed to say, wishing I could think of some light-hearted banter.
But then Luke frowned. He downed some coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. “And therein lies the problem.”
“What?”
“My telling you that. It’s not a very professional thing to say.”
“It didn’t bother me.”
“Good, but something I do or say might. Not to mention that we’re not going to get much research done if we spend the whole afternoon flirting.”
Ah. Now I saw what he was getting at. It was something I’d wondered about, too. “So what do we do? No, umm, flirting during work hours?”
Luke tilted his head to the side. “It’s probably a good idea. However, I don’t ever see you except during work hours or when the twins are there. And I meant what I said in that text on Friday. I don’t want them to know, Gabi.”
“I understand.” I stared at my hands for a moment. “Could we… go out sometime? Like if the kids have a babysitter?”
Luke rested his forearm on the table, turning more toward me. “Occasionally, but I don’t like to leave the kids much.” He shrugged. “They’ve only got one parent to begin with, and evenings are the only time we get much quality time. But sure, I’d like to take you out sometime.”
“I’d like that,” I said quickly. Luke’s eyes rested on my lips and I wondered if he was thinking about our kiss. I certainly was.
“But there’s no getting around the fact that I’m mostly only going to see you during our work hours. And that’s a problem.”
“Why?”
“Because when I’m around you, I’m often not thinking about work.”
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at Luke. His whiskey eyes bored into mine, and my pulse quickened.
He smiled as he noted the flush on my face and likely my chest, too. “So when we’re working, I’ll try to be good.” His voice was low and rumbly, and unconsciously, I leaned toward him.
“Um… okay,” I said, a bit incoherent due to my physical reaction to his earlier words and his nearness.
“In the afternoons, you’ll continue doing research and helping me with other writing tasks. We’ll be efficient and professional. I’m your boss, and you’re my employee, and that’s how it’s got to be, Gabi.”
“Of course,” I said, caught up in the intensity of his gaze.
“Good. Glad we got that clear. That’s what’ll happen when you’re working for me. When you’re Gabi. But there will be sometimes… like when I catch the floral scent from your hair… or when your chocolate eyes flash up at me… or when the sight of you crossing your legs drives all rational thought from my mind… when you won’t just be my employee. You won’t be Gabi.”
“I won’t?” I echoed faintly.
“No, you won’t. Instead, you’ll be Gabriella.”
God, I didn’t understand what he meant, but I was so turned on I was practically panting. Luke’s gaze was so intense on mine that I felt I was melting. “What do you—”
“When I call you Gabriella, it means I want to do something like this.” Luke’s leg shot out, his foot hooking around my chair and pulling me closer. Then his large palm was on my knee, and his other hand buried itself deep in my hair.
He pulled me toward him, a place I was more than eager to go, and our lips met. My eyes closed as I leaned against him, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck. Up close, he smelled so good, a spicy, masculine scent that reminded me of a wooded forest that was somehow infused with coffee.
The rest of the customers and the waitstaff faded away from my consciousness and it was just him and me, our arms around each other, connected by an amazing kiss. He squeezed my curls, tilting my head, and I moaned against his lips, completely overwhelmed by the sensations.
By the time Luke broke the kiss, I felt weightless, like I might drift out of my seat and up to the celling. Blinking, I looked around, surprised to see that we were still in such a mundane setting.
“I like how you smile after I kiss you,” Luke said.
“I like how you kiss me.”
“Good to know.” Luke’s own smile was bordering on a smirk. “I’d intended for this to be a theoretical discussion, not hands on… but I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” My voice was breathy and soft.
“To recap, when I call you Gabriella, that means I’m thinking about something other than early American settlers. But if you’re not in that mood, then just tell me, and I’ll be good.”
“Okay,” I said, still a little dazed.
“In other words, I’m only the boss when you’re Gabi. When you’re my employee.”
I nodded, enjoying the way my lips were still tingling from his kiss. An impish thought hit me. “But what about when I’m Gabriella? Who’s the boss then?”
“Ah,” he said. “Good question. Technically, neither of us.”
“Technically?”
“Yeah. We’re both in charge. But… I’m not very good at giving up control.”
“You aren’t?”
“Nope. Maybe from being a single dad all these years. Or from being a professor. But I like to call the shots.”
He still had his hand on my thigh, and he gave it a squeeze.
I had a feeling I might like it when he called the shots, too.
11
Gabi
After our talk—and kiss—at the coffee shop, there was barely time to get groceries and then meet up with the twins after school. Therefore, there wasn’t any chance for him to call me Gabriella.
However, Tuesday was a different story.
I was sitting at his dining room table in full research mode. Luke had me looking into ways that early American settlers dried and preserved food for the winter. It was actually more fascinating than it sounded.
Of course, that all paled in comparison when I heard Luke coming down the stairs. He was wearing brown pants in a fabric I couldn’t quite identify. It looked a little lighter than denim. His t-shirt was caramel colored. Overall, he was his usual hot self, and I had to stop myself from staring. How come he looked better for his stay-at-home job than I ever had for my former jobs?
He headed straight for me, but then paused, raising his head and sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?”
“Bread.”
He inhaled deeply. “Why does it smell so good?”
“Because I’m baking it.” The expression on his face made me laugh. “Did you think all bread began its life in a plastic bag?”
Luke stared at me, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. But when he spoke, his voice was firm and suggestive. “Is that an appropriate way to talk to your boss… Gabriella?”
Ooo… did that mean that he was going to kiss me again? I sincerely hoped so. “You’re right, that was a bit sarcastic.”
“Indeed.” He walked over to me, a glint in his eye. “Show me what you’ve found today.”
Hmm. Maybe he didn’t want to play, and he’d used my full name by accident? I hid my disappointment. I had a job to do, and I meant to do it to the best of my ability. I showed him my notes and a few websites. “This is a really great one here. A bit gross, but very informative. It takes you step by step through the process of turning venison into jerky strips to dry.”
“Looks good,” Luke said, his hand landing lightly on my shoulder. “Did you find any information about making preserves?”
“Yes.” I opened another tab and froze as his hand slid under my hair to the back of my neck. “Umm, it’s here.”
As I scrolled down, showing him the pictures, Luke’s strong fingers kneaded the back of my neck. “It says… mmm, it says that the process hasn’t changed all that much. Oh god,” I moaned. Both his hands were on my shoulders now, squeezing my muscles.
“I didn’t you were that enthusiastic about food preparation.”
“Umm, yes. Food preparation.” I pulled up another website to show him, but all I could concentrate on was the feeling of his warm hands massaging my shoulders. Today I had on a sleeveless button-down white shirt over my jean shorts. Every time Luke’s fingers rubbed over the bare skin of my upper arms, I sank back into my chair.
Luke bent over me, his head above mine. “Did you find any other good resources?”
“Yes.” A little groan slipped out with the word. God, his fingers were making circles near my collarbone. They were so close to the opening of my shirt.
“What are they?” His voice was almost a whisper.
“I don’t remember.”
His knowing chuckle made me squirm, but his strong hands stilled me. He was rubbing the top of my chest, one finger trailing the line where the top two buttons of my shirt were undone.
And then one warm, strong hand slipped inside my shirt, running lightly over the tops of my breasts above my bra. Instantly, my back arched and I threw my head back, feeling my curls dance against his chest. Luke bent down and his lips caressed the side of my neck. His breath was warm on my throat and I closed my eyes. It felt so damn good. Every new touch made me flush. Made me squirm. Made me moan.
He nuzzled my neck with his teeth, and I whimpered, wanting more. Luke obliged by kissing his way up to my jawline, then pressing the side of his head against mine. “Your skin is so warm.”
“Mm-hmm,” was all I could manage to say with a breathy little moan.
“Like you’re about to burst into flames,” Luke continued, his voice low and intimate. “You’re a guest in my house. I’d be remiss if I didn’t do something about that.”
“Mmm,” I moaned, my eyes closed, my cheek resting against his. What was he saying?
“So I’ll be a good host and get you some water.”
God, this felt so good. I hoped he’d never—wait, what did he say? My eyes flew open.
Luke’s hand plunged further into my shirt, and he gave my breast a quick squeeze before he straightened up, stepping back. A sharp breath of air escaped my lips as I stared up at him. Why had he pulled back?