Broken Boundaries

by TC Matson

  “No. He said to call him at work,” she says. “We’re having an engagement and gender reveal party this weekend and I’m supposed to order the catering, but I can’t remember if he said he wanted the carrot cake or the coconut. So, I need to speak with him.” She’s serious as ever with her hopelessness.

  I titter. “You’re engaged and pregnant, but you don’t know he doesn’t like carrots?”

  “What? Of course he does. It’s his favorite cake, well, beside coconut,” she says sincerely.

  I laugh. “I’ll let him know you’ve called when he gets off the phone. It shouldn’t be but a few more hours.” She’s saying something as I hang up.

  A clearing of the throat has me jerking my head up to Easton regarding me with pleasant mirth. “So my fiancée doesn’t know I hate carrots but my assistant does? Something’s wrong with that.” His voice drips with patience.

  “You’re also having a gender reveal party this weekend. Congratulations.” I laugh, throwing my hands up.

  He drops his head back and cracks up.

  “These calls are constant,” I say. “Why do women do this?” I ask out loudly, mainly to myself.

  “Your guess is just as good as mine.” He pushes off the door frame and walks back into his office.

  The day was uneventful but went by quickly, and I’m glad. Although, I have absolutely nothing planned tonight, I’m ready to get out of these heels and relax. Britney is supposed to come over too…with a bottle of wine…and Chinese. Tonight will be great.

  He’s rubbing his jaw, deep in thought when I stick my head in. “I’m heading out.”

  He looks up. “Come here for a second,” he says and I do.

  He leans back into his chair. “How exactly did you know I don’t like carrots? I don’t remember ever telling you.”

  I tighten my lips into a small smile. “Observing. Anytime I’ve ever ordered you food, it’s the only thing left uneaten, or if you share, I have a heaping pile of them.”

  He smiles and nods his head. “And you said I listen well. You know my most hated food, yet I don’t know yours.”

  “Sushi. Anything sushi. I’m out with raw fish,” I reply, way too flirty. I’ve got to get a grip on this.

  “Duly noted. Any special plans this weekend?”

  My pulse picks up in tempo, but I keep myself composed. “You’re stalling. Does Mr. Roth have you nervous?”

  Sarcasm…the best help through my own nerves.

  He narrows his eyes in a lighthearted manner. “I am stalling, but not because of Mr. Roth.”

  My stomach clenches at his suggestive tone, butterflies zig zagging through the crackle of static. “Summerfest is this weekend. Other than that, I’m hoping for an uneventful few days.”

  His green irises hold me hostage as he stares at me and causes my skin to prickle. I clear my throat. “Have a safe flight,” I say and get the hell out of his office.

  In there, it’s a danger zone. Not in a bad way, but if this “crushing on my boss” phase doesn’t pass soon, I’m scared I’ll blurt how much I think of him.

  Zoey

  Summerfest is Denver’s largest music festival held annually, and Britney and I haven’t missed it in three years. Main Street is shut down and it’s crawling with people. White tents line the sides as far as the eye can see—vendors, beer stops, and food under them. Merchandise and souvenir displays are everywhere. At the end of the road is a stage, equipped with concert lights and speakers for bands who’ve never been a letdown. Music floats along the night breeze, keeping a beat in your ear so you can sing along.

  The street lamps have been turned off and replaced with strings of colorful lights. They illuminate the pavement while people flood inside the glow. All the crowd around us are cheerful, smiling while they have a good time. The unrestrained joy buzzes through my veins. My normal thoughts and worries are obliterated and replaced with overpowering jubilation. My heavy thoughts being lifted and shoved away by fun.

  “Oh!” Britney squeals. “Check this out.” She grabs my hand and yanks me underneath a merchant tent, pulling a black Linkin Park shirt bearing their infamous logo from the wire display. She holds it up over her shirt. “Whatcha think? Cut a slit on both shoulders, a V-neck, and have an extra hot shirt?”

  I snicker. “Only you would want to buy a new shirt of one of the hottest bands and threaten it with scissors.”

  “Think outside the box, Zoey. I’m just making a badass shirt more badass.”

  “No matter what you do to that shirt, you can’t get more badass than Chester.” I grin.

  “You and your crushes.” She laughs.

  “What’s not to fall in love with?” I ask as she puts it back up. “Come on. We need another beer.”

  She snaps her fingers, ending with a point. “I think you’re onto something.”

  Instead of making our way across the street to the perfectly fine beer tent calling our name, she struts halfway down the street on a mission.

  What’s the mission? Garret, of course. He bursts into a huge grin when he spots us. Britney jumps up on a stool with her knees and leans over the little counter, her ass in the air, to give him a kiss.

  “Two Coronas, please.” She kisses him again.

  He grabs them and opens them for us. “Hey, Zoey. Having a good time?” he asks as he hands mine to me.

  “Yeah. It’s busier this year.” I take a sip of the cold bubbly beer.

  He nods in agreement. “Good for business. I’ve heard they got a few good bands tonight. Make sure you two check them out.”

  He stretches to kisses Britney again and then whispers something. She breathes a breathy giggle as her eyes widen with elation.

  She hops down. “See you in a bit.” She bites her lip, giving a small wave before sashaying with a ton of extra sway. She knows he’s watching and she’s teasing him with what’s to come.

  “Sooo, what’s with you two?” I ask because she’s kept tight-lipped about him.

  Her entire body glimmers with happiness. “It’s good, Zoey. Really good. He makes me happy.”

  I bump her shoulder with mine. “Is he taming the whore within?”

  She cackles and scrapes her teeth along her bottom lip. “You could say that.”

  “Are you two serious? Like relationship status ser—” I slam into a hard body. “Oh!” I gasp.

  My eyes travel up the gray polo to the man’s face and my heart leaps to my throat before sinking.

  Easton’s eyes glow vibrantly roguish, peering down at me. “How is it there are hundreds of people here and I manage to run into you?”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.” I glance behind him. “Where’s your pack of friends?”

  “Zach went with Max to a wine tasting. Highfalutin.” He flicks his wrist and chuckles.

  Britney—three beers too many—leans into my shoulder. “Aren’t you highfalutin?”

  A grin slips across his lips. “You must be Britney?”

  She chortles, nudging me with her shoulder. “You’ve been talking about me.” Her voice is an octave too high. “I am. And you’re the boss. Mr. Langley in the sexy flesh.”

  I want to hide under a rock and die of embarrassment.

  He takes a sip of his beer and nods. “I’m the boss, yes. You two have a good time.”

  He winks—a sexy, charming, I’d like to hump you, wink—and starts past us when Britney spins around. “Why don’t you join us?”

  “Britney!” I hiss under my breath keeping my back toward him.

  She glances to me and purses her lips.

  Great. She’s got a master plan.

  “What do you think, Zoey? Too awkward for you to be seen in public with me?” Easton asks.

  My shoulders slump with vanquish. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. This is my luck—run right into the hot boss, my muse that percolates my hormones into overdrive and hang out with him. Yeah. It’ll be a night I help myself out.

  I turn to him plaster
ing a smile. “No. Of course not.”

  Satisfaction stretches the lines on his face as he walks to me, stopping directly in front of me with a look that has my stomach tripping over itself. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

  He’s so close I can feel his body heat and it kicks up my pulse. I swallow hard, fleeing to sarcasm to lighten the friction. “I don’t know how much fun you’ll have with us. She likes to drag me everywhere.” And put me in awkward situations with the man she knows I have a huge crush on.

  Award-winning charisma shines down on me. “Then we’ll be in good company as she does.” His voice—baritone and velvety—smooths my skin and scrambles my senses.

  “Don’t just stand there and stare at him. Come on.” Britney grabs my arm and rips my cemented feet out from under the spell he had on me.

  As we wander the street, he doesn’t look like the Easton Langley I’m used to. In this very moment, he’s not the CEO of Langley Security. He’s not some high-class businessman racing around to claim all the jobs. Instead, he’s a handsome man, blending in with the people without a title to his name. When he laughs, wrinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. His face illuminates and his smile is heavy with a carefree happiness. I’ve never seen him this relaxed, this buoyant and outgoing. Normally reserved, tonight it’s as if he’s let his hair down, so to speak. And even though his presence makes me nervous, it’s not off-putting. He feels good here—beside me—rousing even, as he chats and jokes with us like he’s done this before.

  Britney pulls her phone from her pocket and blinks between Easton and me. “You two go ahead. Garret is on the hunt for me. He’s been switched out.” She rumples her nose, biting her lip with excitement. “You’re going to the music, right?”

  “Wait. What?” I’m on the verge of panic. Alone…with Easton… “We’ll come with you.”

  She cocks her head to the side and gives me a pointed look. “Meet you at the stage.”

  Before I can protest, she’s gone. My best friend literally abandoned me with the sexiest man in Denver. You’d think I’d be happy. I’m not. I’m terrified.

  Shit…

  “Need a beer?” Easton asks as if he just read my mind.

  A shot or two would suffice. I slam back the remainder of my beer before I reply. “Yes.”

  He laughs and jerks his head. “Come on.”

  The next beer tent isn’t far and after we get our fresh beers, we begin toward the music.

  “Last year, their headliner wasn’t very good. Let’s hope this year they changed things up.” He casts a glance down at me.

  “They weren’t that bad. Most of their songs were good,” I reply.

  “Oh, come on. They slaughtered that one song…” He snaps his fingers trying to remember. “The song by Grammer.”

  “Andy Grammer?”

  He snaps his fingers and ends with a point. “That’s him. Honey, I’m Good. They completely butchered it.”

  “Okay. That song, yes. Some songs aren’t supposed to have a heavy metal spin. But you have to admit the rest of the set was really good,” I say.

  “Langley?” a tall man in an orange shirt steps in front of us and stretches out his hand.

  “Shuer.” Happy go lucky Easton slips away and into business.

  “I’ll be over there,” I whisper, pointing to the tent closest to us.

  Easton wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me into his side, resting his fingers on my hip predaciously as he continues to talk. He’s relaxed, unbothered, nonchalant. Me, on the other hand, well, I’m frozen stiff as desire shreds me to pieces. I’d be lying if I said I’ve never wondered what it would be like at his side and not as the assistant. It’s hot. Sexy hot. Super hot. Like “I’m about to combust just from his touch” hot.

  After several moments, Easton cuts the man off and tells him he’ll be in touch. He keeps a firm grip on me until we’re a few steps away.

  Air comes rushing back into my lungs. “What the hell was that?” I whisper-hiss.

  “Did you not see the way he was looking at you?” he replies coolly, apparently unaffected as I am.

  “Seriously? You’re going to get all protective over me because someone looks at me? Come on, Mr. Security. Even for you, that’s ludicrous.” My laugh is humorless. Not because I’m mad but because everything inside of me is ignited for him. “Besides, they can look, but I’m not leaving you.”

  That didn’t sound exactly how I intended.

  His brow hikes up with pleasure. His green eyes cloud with greed. “It’s my job to make sure of it.”

  Neither did that.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for years, all by my little ol’ self.” I resort to sarcasm because well, sarcasm…

  He homes in on me. “With me, you won’t be doing it by yourself. Understood?”

  Longing. Starved. Need. The image of jumping into his arms and kissing him hard flicker behind my eyes, dripping my painful infatuation through my body. “Let’s go listen to some music,” I say on a breathy exhale and then quickly stride off.

  I need distance.

  He catches up with me and we make our way to the front of the stage, which is littered with people. The band is playing a cover of Livin’ on a Prayer with their own rock and roll twist.

  Discreetly, I take a peek up to Easton only to find him looking back at me. My heart leaps in my throat. He smiles and then chuckles as he wolfishly looks back to the stage and takes a swallow of his beer.

  The band ends the song and immediately kicks into another—their rock twist of Blurred Lines. Easton clutches my hand. “Let’s dance.”

  I burst in laughter, pulling back. “No. No. I can’t. I have a beer.” I spew the best excuse I’ve got.

  He plucks it from me and tosses it into the trash can. “No excuses now.” That grin melts me. It’s the sexiest I’ve ever witnessed. “I’ll buy you another. Come on.”

  He tows me into the opening of the crowd and we start to dance. My body is highly aware he’s watching me, moving his body along with mine. I feed off the music, the beat, the vibrations and allow the alcohol to help drown my self-consciousness. I sway my hips, rocking them back and forth. I run my hand under my hair and flick it. His eyes are latched on to me as he grasps my hand and twirls me.

  The more we dance, the less fear runs through me. He’s beaming and laughing. We’re having fun and I’m enjoying every second of the normality, even as he inches his body closer to me.

  I’m out of breath when the song ends, and as we make our way out of the throngs of people, I spot Britney and Garret cuddled close, kissing.

  “We’re leaving,” she says, not hiding her excitement as to why. “He’s got other plans. Sexy plans.” She waggles her brows.

  I’m disappointed coming off the fun-high, but I nod. “I’m ready whenever you are.” I’m still way out of breath.

  “If you want to stay longer, I can take you home,” Easton whispers thickly into my ear.

  A blazing hot prickle falls down my body and I snap my head to him. “I, um. No. It’s okay,” I sputter. “I’ll leave with them. Thanks though.”

  The muscle in his jaw juts but he smiles anyway, his eyes storming with complaints. “I’ll see you later this week then.”

  Britney pulls me away, breaking our lingering stare and I stumble into her. Glancing back, Easton’s gaze locks on to mine. For a moment, the world around him disappears. It’s only sounds and lights as he stands with his hands in his pockets in the middle of the chaos. The colors flicker in his eyes as a smile plays on his lips. He nods his head, but doesn’t unlatch the spell his gaze has on me.

  My chest aches…

  “I think I’m falling in love with my boss,” I blurt to Britney.

  She cracks up. “How many beers have you had?”

  Almost certain it’s not the alcohol…

  Zoey

  Four days. That’s how long I’ve been damned by the image of Easton watching me leave the festival without seeing
him again. The picture is seared into my memory, haunting me in the shower, stirring me in the bed, preventing sleep. He’s all I see even when I try not to see him. He’s the only thought I can focus on, constantly replaying over and over.

  That night gave me a new perspective. I completely understand why women throw themselves at him. He’s incredibly sexy with a personality that can switch from professional-sexy to laidback-sexy effortlessly. Business to entertaining with just a snap of a finger. Outgoing yet private. And he’s fun.

  He’s the definition of a perfect man…at least on the outside.

  Easton messaged me, asking for last month’s revenue report, and I’ve been waiting on Lauren from accounting to bring it. An hour ago, I called to find out what was taking her so long and she said it would be ready in twenty minutes. Now it’s late, past six o’clock and I’m still waiting.

  In the kitchen, I wash my coffee mug and grab a cold water from the fridge. As I’m returning to my desk, the elevator chimes and Lauren comes rushing out with panic on her face. Her eyes are wide, her hair sitting high on top of her head with two pencils jammed into the rat’s nest.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she rushes. “AR transposed several of their entries. It’s all taken care of now.”

  “Same person as last month?”

  She drops her view to her feet.

  This is part of my job I hate—being a tattletale, potentially putting the employee’s job in jeopardy. “Thank you,” I say.

  After she leaves, I push open his office door and place the report in the middle of his desk so it’ll be the first thing he sees in the morning.

  Out of my peripheral, there’s movement and a body shifts. I twist around with a yelp, jerking my hands up in a horrible attempt of self-defense.

  Recognition kicks in. “You just scared the fuck out of me,” I exclaim.

  Easton sits relaxed at the far end of the table with papers in his hand when he starts to laugh. “Miss Good Girl just dropped the f-bomb.”

  My pulse is slamming against my temples, throbbing in my ears. “You startled me. When did you get here?”