Until It's Right

by Jamie Howard

  My mouth has the urge to drop open, but I manage to clamp my teeth together to keep it in place. I absolutely had not been counting down the days like I had with some of my other temp jobs. With the avalanche of distractions I’ve had lately, it’s been the last thing on my mind.

  Rather than tell him that, I give him a curt, professional nod.

  “Right, right.” He clears his throat and laces his fingers together, resting his clasped hands on top of my cubicle wall. “You’ll be getting something formal from HR in the next week or two, and I should probably have some pretty speech planned out to try and woo you, but I think by now you know that’s not how I operate. Fact is, you’re a hard worker. You get your work done in a timely and efficient manner, and I like to think we work pretty well together. What I’m getting at is that we’d be damn pleased to have you join the team permanently if that’s something you’re interested in. There’ll be a raise, PTO, all the bells and whistles.” He swats his hand through the air like he’s swiping at an annoying insect, then points at me. “You think about it, and when the time comes, you let me know.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He snorts. “Haven’t I told you to stop it with that ‘sir’ business?”

  I smile up at him. “Yes, sir, you have.”

  His eyes all but disappear as his cheeks bunch up in a grin. He pats my cube one more time before sauntering away.

  It’s not the first time one of my temp jobs has offered to take me on. But it’s probably the first time I’m actually considering it. I like Mr. March, and I’m good at what I’m doing. Having Kyle here is definitely a bonus, but will it become a problem? I don’t have a clue what the policy is on workplace dating, and other than our spontaneous encounter in the IT room, we’ve been incredibly discreet.

  Speaking of discreet.

  I unclench my fingers and retrieve the mangled piece of paper. Spreading it out on my desk, I try to smooth out the wrinkles. Once it’s as good as it’s going to get, I fold it cleanly in half and slip it into my purse.

  Ripping out a piece of notebook paper, I scissor off the top and scribble my response in the little rectangle.

  Only if we can do dessert afterwards. At my place.

  I blush as I reread it and quickly fold it up before I can change my mind. Now the only problem is getting it to Kyle without him spotting me. Stupid locked room. Shielding the note in my hand, I casually stroll over to the IT room and peek through the little window in the door. Empty. With a quick look in either direction to make sure the coast is clear, I lean down and slide it under the door.

  Hurrying away, I round a corner and slam to a halt. Kyle stands at the outer edge of Sabrina’s cube, one hand on his hip, the other gesturing through the air. Whatever he says makes her laugh, and for a brief instant my stomach cramps. Between one breath and the next my vision blurs, and I’m bombarded with snippets of all the times Luke watched Sloane when he thought I wasn’t looking, all the times he forgot to guard his expression from giving too much away.

  I blink hard to banish them back into the recesses of my memory. Sucking in a steadying breath, I remind myself that Kyle isn’t Luke, and I push the sick feeling away. I know I have nothing to be jealous over. A split second later, Kyle’s gaze darts over to me. Worry clouds his features, but immediately evaporates when I give my head a slight shake and smile at him. The corner of his mouth tips up, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to hide it.

  I carry my smile all the way to my desk. I’ve only been there a few minutes when my phone vibrates, buzzing against my desk.

  Kyle: I was reading a magazine the other day (a very manly magazine btw) that said girls love spontaneity. And notes. Glad to see their suggestions panned out. Although, this plan did violate the three day rule so it had me a little worried.

  My stomach muscles tense as I hold back my laughter.

  Me: I guess you’re just lucky I’m flexible.

  Kyle: Hmm, I feel like you’re trying to set me up with that one, so I’m gonna skim right over it. How’s seven tonight?

  Me: Perfect.

  * * *

  Kyle’s knock on the door coincides almost exactly with the hour hand ticking over to the seven. I bite the inside of my cheek to try and hide my amusement. He does no such thing, and practically knocks me over with the force of his smile when I open the door.

  The tips of his dark hair are damp and he smells like soap—those are the only two details I manage to process before he wraps his arms around me and drops his lips to mine. He kisses me like the world is ending and we’ve only got a few minutes left to live. I wrap my fingers around his biceps to steady myself and finally let my smile overtake my face when he pulls back.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I just still can’t believe that I’m allowed to do that.”

  I poke him in the nose. “Not only are you allowed, but you’re encouraged to do it, too.”

  He chuckles, the sound of it vibrating through me. “I’ll keep that in mind, but for now, we have a date and—” He glances down and frowns. When he steps back from me, something crinkles. That something is plastic that’s wrapped around a bouquet of peonies that are a little worse for the wear. Pale pink petals decorate the carpet beneath our feet. With his empty hand, he slips his fingers underneath his glasses so he can rub his eyes. “Well, we’re already off to a great start I see.”

  “You mean you bringing me my favorite flowers before our first official date as a couple? You’re right, that is a very good start.”

  I take the rumpled flowers from him and bring them to the kitchen to put them in some water. “So, how’d you know? That they’re my favorite I mean?”

  “What, you don’t believe in coincidence?” He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles.

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Fine.” He heaves an exaggerated sigh. “I asked Tara.”

  Something about the fact that he cares enough to seek out my best friend to ask her my favorite flower does funny things to my stomach. It feels like someone’s turning it inside out and upside down and shaking it for good measure.

  “So, dinner?”

  “Yes, dinner. I thought we could ride together. Ya know, save some money on gas, do a favor to the environment.” He winks at me. “Plus, I’ve heard you have a penchant for getting locked out of your car, so I’m really just suggesting it for your own good.”

  I laugh and roll my eyes at him. “Well, how can I say no to that brilliant logic?”

  Chapter 30

  Kyle

  The streetlights are just winking on when we pull into the parking lot of Blossom. The breeze smells like flowers and sunshine, and the crickets are just warming up for their first performance. I hold Haley’s hand the entire trip into the restaurant and all the way to our seats. Sitting down in that booth and having to let go of her—it sucks. Not in an I’m-so-possessive-I-don’t-want-you-out-of-my-sight kinda way, but more of an I-can’t-get-enough-of-this way.

  I order my dinner and train all my focus on making sure this date goes well. “So, anything new with you?”

  Lame. So lame, Kyle.

  “You mean since we had lunch this afternoon?” Haley lifts her eyebrows at me and takes a pull of her diet soda. “Oh, well actually, Mr. March told me they’re going to offer me a permanent position.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic.” The thought of seeing Haley every day for the indefinite future shoots an injection of pure excitement straight into my veins. “What’d you tell him? Are you gonna take it?”

  She swirls the ice in her glass with her straw, dropping her eyes to the table. “I’m not sure. I mean … would it be a problem?”

  The corner of my mouth quirks. “You mean is it difficult to see you every day at work and not want to drag you back into the IT room for an encore performance? Yeah, it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done actually. I’m not sure I’d really call it problematic though.”

  She swats me halfhea
rtedly. “I was talking about having to hide our relationship at work because I’m not sure we’re even allowed to date each other.”

  “There’s no policy against dating coworkers.” I scratch a hand through my hair. “But if things didn’t end up working out between us, that could be a little awkward.”

  Haley’s hand sneaks across the table until she can reach mine. “I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

  My voice comes out less steady than I planned. “Me either.”

  She sinks her teeth into her lower lip. And even though I can tell she’s worried about something, a part of me can’t stop thinking about her mouth. About how good she tastes and how much I want this damn dinner to be over with so I can taste her again.

  “Listen,” she says. “I don’t know about you, but this isn’t really like a second date for me. It feels more like we’ve jumped right into date eight or ten. And I don’t just mean what happened at the office.” She flashes a grin at me, and her cheeks flush pink. “I guess what I’m trying to say is this isn’t some casual thing to me. I really care about you.”

  I open my mouth, but absolutely nothing comes out. That’s probably because I can’t even breathe. My chest burns and my heart squeezes like someone’s using it as a stress ball. Despite the fact that this is all mildly painful, it’s also a really great thing because it keeps me from doing something incredibly stupid. That stupid thing being me telling her that I’m in love with her.

  And damn it all to hell, I am so in love with her.

  It’s not even something that’s been creeping up on me. It didn’t blindside me or take me by surprise. No, falling in love with Haley was inevitable, predictable, unavoidable. I saw it bearing down on me like an oncoming train, speeding toward me from the moment I met her. My only fear is that one day that train’s going to run me over and absolutely ruin me.

  I try my best to downplay the emotions that are clashing together inside me. “I, well um, I might have some feelings for you too.”

  “Just some feelings?” A playful smile sweeps across her lips.

  Oh good, she thinks I’m being deliberately coy. “Maybe a few.”

  She gives a tiny shake of her head, and her gaze drops to my mouth. My. Mouth. Like she’s thinking about kissing me. I’ve never hated a piece of furniture as much as I hate this stupid expanse of fake wood that’s separating us right now. I’m actually considering flagging down our waitress and asking for the check right this minute because in comparison, my need to kiss Haley completely trumps my desire to eat.

  Except, our waitress chooses that moment to show up with our food.

  Crap.

  Haley grins down at her plate of food like everything I was just thinking shone across my face like a movie screen. As Brian has reminded me more than once, I have a glass face, so yeah, I’m probably not hiding all that much from her.

  Cutting into my chicken, I mentally calculate how quickly I can chow down my dinner without choking on it. Four minutes. Five tops. Although, me shoveling food into my mouth probably won’t be all that attractive, so maybe I should take a little more time than that. Alright, I can stretch it out to eight minutes.

  As I slide my first forkful of rice into my mouth, something brushes lightly against my ankle. A second later, I feel it again. I dart a glance across the table at Haley, but she’s staring intently at her plate. The corner of her mouth twitches.

  Catching me watching her, she flicks her eyes up to mine. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head, restraining my smile.

  I inch my foot closer to hers until I feel the sole of my shoe bump hers. Another two bites of my dinner find their way to my mouth before she nudges me back. I’m at a pretty significant disadvantage at this game. With a layer of socks and my dress shoes covering my feet, there’s not a whole lot of sexy I can make work with that.

  My fork slips from my fingers and clatters against my plate when Haley’s toes edge underneath the hem of my pants and graze bare skin. Her eyes twinkle at me, but her mouth is hidden behind her napkin.

  It’s one of those moments when everything feels right in the world. Like everything has shifted neatly into place and is exactly how it’s supposed to be. The image of her there, that look in her eye, it brands itself into my brain so deeply I know that I’ll remember it until the day I die. Right then and there I send a silent thank you out into the void to her ex, for fucking things up between them so that I could have this moment with her.

  Folding her napkin and setting it next to her plate, Haley lifts one delicate brow at me. “You know, I’m actually feeling pretty full. I’m thinking about taking the rest of my dinner to go.”

  I glance down at my food that’s barely been touched due to Haley’s distractions. “Funny. I had the same thought. I was actually considering saving the rest for … later?” I keep my face expressionless, but inside my heart is trembling, and tiny beads of sweat pop up on my forehead. Does she want there to be a later? I’m not going to push her into having sex with me again if she isn’t ready, but it’s definitely on the table if she wants to.

  “These leftovers would make an excellent midnight snack.”

  Footsteps near our table, heels clicking across the wood floor. “How is everything going over here? Is there anything I can get—”

  Our answers come at the same time. “The check.”

  The waitress probably makes some strange face at us, but I’m too busy looking at Haley.

  Each tick of the minute hand is agonizingly long as I pay for dinner, stroll back to the car with Haley, and drive her home. In reality it’s not even half an hour, but by the time Haley unlocks her front door and attacks my mouth, it feels like an entire lifetime has passed.

  She kicks off her shoes as we stumble backward, and I nearly trip on them trying to keep up with her. That’s all I need to do—accidentally tackle her to the ground and break one of her ribs or something. I wrap an arm around her back to keep us both steady, and she slips a hand underneath the back of my shirt.

  Her fingernails graze my skin and I suck in a quick breath. A groan pushes its way out of me and I tug her a little closer until she’s intimately aware of how turned on I am. She retreats another step, taking me with her, and bumps into an end table. The lamp tilts heavily to the left and it’s only by sheer luck that I’m able to make a grab for it and stop it from tumbling to the floor.

  “Whoops.” Haley laughs and wrinkles her nose. She takes my moment’s worth of distraction and drops a kiss onto the corner of my jaw, and her hands glide around my rib cage until they’re resting on my shoulders. Her tongue licks a line down my neck, and holy shit. My pants have been uncomfortably tight all night, but they just got a hell of a lot tighter.

  In the dim lighting of the apartment, I try to direct her around the couch. We weave across the room like a pair of drunken idiots, too intent on kissing each other senseless to pay attention to where we’re going. When Haley slips her hands into my back pockets and squeezes my ass, I rock into her, and take two quick steps forward until she’s pressed up against the kitchen island.

  I slip the white strap of her tank top down her shoulder, kissing my way south until I meet the soft fabric of her strapless bra. In the brief moment it takes me to grasp the cup and pull it down, I try to gather myself. My thoughts are hazy, my sensations on overload, and everything inside me is racing forward. Every time I get my hands on Haley, things start spiraling out of control. As much as I want to slow down and savor the taste of her, I’m not sure I can wait.

  Rubbing my hand over her breast, I trace a small circle around her nipple with the tip of my tongue. Her chest heaves underneath me like she’s having trouble breathing, and when I glance up at her, she’s got one hand gripping the edge of the counter and her cheek resting against her shoulder, her lips pressing together. I watch her as I tease her with a mix of tongue and teeth. Her hips buck up against me and she bites her lower lip.

  With my other hand, I skate over the
soft fabric of her skirt until I can bunch it in my hand. I tug it up, searching for bare skin. While I continue to play with her breast, I slide my fingers up the inside of her thigh. My fingers brush against the outside of her panties and she lets out a gasp.

  I’ve always been pretty decent at the bedroom games, probably because I spend more time researching the best way to get women off than I’d like to admit, but there’s something about Haley that makes me feel like a sex god. And it’s not just that she gives me confidence in my abilities to rock her world; she makes me forget who I am, who I’m supposed to be. With her I’m the guy who makes her blush. I’m the guy who makes her skin shiver and her knees quake and her mouth moan in the most delicious way.

  When I slip my finger inside her panties so I can touch her, her other hand flies back onto the island, looking for something to grab on to. But instead of finding anything, she nails the vase of peonies. The clear glass wobbles on the counter and then tips over. The rim makes a pinging noise when it hits the countertop, but luckily doesn’t break. Water surges out, spilling all over the floor and soaking a pile of paperwork on the counter.

  “Crap!” Haley makes a grab for the vase and sets it back up.

  Reluctantly, I extract myself from our entangled position, taking care to slip her strap back up onto her shoulder and cover her up. Haley flips on the lights, which makes me blink, and my first move is to readjust my pants before I make my way toward the paper towels.

  She holds up the paperwork, or as I can now see, mail. “I’m so sorry. God I am such a klutz sometimes.”

  I drop down to my knees to soak up some of the mess. “It’s fine. Just a brief intermission.” I flick my gaze up to her, and our eyes lock. The air around us seems to crackle, and frankly I’m a little surprised that with all the heat in the room the puddle on the floor isn’t evaporating.

  Haley blows out a breath. “This thing between us, it’s…”

  Rip-your-clothes-off heart-stoppingly fantastic?

  But I don’t have to say it. I know she feels it, from the way the sexual tension is pulsing through the air. I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, it is.”