A Little Fool for You: A Sweet Office Romance (A Little Love Book 3)

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A Little Fool for You: A Sweet Office Romance (A Little Love Book 3) Page 14

by Emily Childs


  “I was about to ask you the same. Do you want to murder the chips or something? That bad?”

  “What? No. It’s really good. I like the kick at the end.”

  “Okay, what’s with the look?” She asks, as she counts through a few tips left in a jar.

  “Do I have a look?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she says with a laugh, and waves to a group of customers as they leave. Nicole puts down the cash and leans over the counter, eyes locked on me. “What’s going on?”

  Great. Just great. My chin is quivering. “I think you were right,”

  “I often am. What’s it this time?”

  Am I admitting this to my one person? Of course, that’s why she’s my person. “I really like Bastien.”

  Nicole grins and pats my arm. “Sweetie, that’s a good thing, right?”

  I cover my face with my hands. “No.”

  “Explain.”

  “I’m afraid of falling for him because of what he’s done.”

  Nicole lifts a brow. “Lane, you’re losing me here. What has he done? Oh my gosh, has he been inappropriate with you because if he has, I’ll—”

  “No,” I say with a pitchy laugh. “Chill. I’m talking about with Amy.”

  A shadow passes over my sister’s face. “Your stupid roommate?”

  At that, I’m taken back a little. “Wow Nic. Tell me how you really feel. You’ve never said you didn’t like her before.”

  “I don’t talk about her,” she snaps, but I don’t think her venom is pointed at me. “There is no way you’re holding what happened against him, Lane.”

  “It was his fault.”

  Nicole closes her eyes and holds up her hand. “Are you kidding me? You really think it’s his fault she was messing around with his friend?” She glowers at me. “Come on, you’re not the kind that spins it like if she was satisfied then she wouldn’t have stepped out. How unfair is that?”

  “What are you talking about? Bastien cheated on her. She told us, cried for days.”

  Nicole pinches her lips into a bloodless line. “He cheated on her? No. No. She twisted that . . . and . . . gah, I could scream right now.”

  My throat feels dry and my face twists into a grimace, but in truth my chest hurts.

  Nicole leans onto her palms and sighs loudly. “Bastien did not cheat on Amy. Not long after they got engaged, he found her in his house. With his roommate. I’ll leave what he saw up to your imagination. Then, to drive the knife in deeper, when he wanted to work it out with her, she told him she’d rather be with his roommate. That she’d fallen in love with the guy and all that.”

  “Wait, Byron?” I think of Amy’s short-lived boyfriend after Bastien. I didn’t know he lived with Bastien.

  “I think. I didn’t care to remember his name.” Nicole takes my hand. “I love you, but you’re dead wrong on this. I saw Bastien after that, Lane. She messed him up. He hates going home because she moved back there, and makes it a point to dredge up their past if they ever run into each other. She never gives him a chance to move on, so he stays away. Have you said this out loud to him? That you think he’s the cheater?”

  My face stings and hot tears blur the room. I nod, ashamed.

  “Laney,” Nicole says softly, almost sympathetically. “I promised myself I’d never insert myself in this thing with you guys, but girl, you need to fix that. He didn’t correct you?”

  I shake my head. “He just went quiet.”

  “Trust me, and not whatever story that girl spun to you. Bastien is no cheater.”

  A ringing starts in my ears as blood rushes to my head. My heart races until I think it might snap my ribs wide open. The day Amy told us her tale of betrayal, she’d cried, pleading the worst kind of broken heart. I should’ve been suspicious when Byron came over not a week later, all heartbreak forgotten. All this time I’ve carried resentment for Bastien Olsen, thought of him as a sorry excuse for a man. I’ve dealt with him in barbs and jabs to his character while working for him when I should’ve held him higher. Respected him more. Seen him for the guy I’ve started to love.

  I’m falling in love with Bastien.

  I bury my face in my hands, aching for the time I’ve wasted mistrusting him, maybe hating him a little. “She lied to me?”

  “I promise I would not stand silent if you started dating a skeezah, Lane.”

  I slide off the barstool, sort of in a trance. “I need to go.”

  “You do.” Nicole grins slyly. “Call me and tell me everything he says. Have a very, very good night.”

  I don’t care about what she’s insinuating as I hurry out of the café and to my car.

  All I want is to talk to Bastien, apologize, and maybe feel his hands on me again.

  Chapter 19

  Bastien

  “We’re not doing anything crazy, right?” Oscar calls down the hallway from my kitchen.

  I walk out of my bedroom, tug a clean T-shirt over my head, and join him. He’s eating grapes and has already gone through half the bag. Nicole better budget his insane appetite or start charging him for eating at the café after they get married.

  “What’s your definition of crazy?” I ask and sit across from him.

  “Out all night, questionable venues that my wife wouldn’t approve of.”

  “Nicole already booked the girls.” Oscar kicks me under the table and I laugh. “We’re not going crazy, I promise. You, me, my brothers, and a few guys from school. We’re going out, having a good time, nothing you can’t tell Nicole about, I promise. Call it a classy, tame, bachelor party because Nicole scares me more than you.”

  “She better,” he says and gives up the grapes with a sigh. “I can’t believe it’s next week. Whose idea was a year and a half for an engagement?”

  I snort. “Probably yours.”

  “Probably.” Oscar grins. “Thanks for introducing us.”

  “Yeah, I better be recognized, or get a medal to wear all night.” I might be hot and cold on romance, but I’m happy for Oscar. Being as close as we are, I’m confident in recognizing when he’s happy too. I don’t think he’s lost that star struck, faraway look in his eye since they had their first date. “Really you ought to thank Laney. She’s the one who thought you guys would hit it off.”

  “True. Speaking of Laney, how is that going? Nicole said the game went well.”

  “She did?” Laney talked to her sister, and the idea of it is heady.

  “Yeah,” Oscar says with a coy grin. “And she went home with you, huh?”

  “She’s been to the market with you.”

  “Yeah, but for dessert night? No. That’s tradition. I’ve only ever taken Nicole before.”

  I don’t want to make this a big deal because then I’ll wall back up. The truth is, not even Amy went to one of the dessert pass-around nights.

  “She understands what it’s like,” I say. “You know, with Nicole owning the café and all that.”

  “Right,” Oscar says. “Well my grandpa likes her, but he likes Nicole better than me. Although, his exact words were, ‘Oscar, your new svӓgerska leaves that boy dumb’.”

  “What? Philip loves me, so what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Oscar laughs. “It means he thinks you’re a smitten idiot.”

  I’m not. I even start to shake my head, but stop. Somehow it feels like a betrayal. Then my stomach jumps. Going this way is foolish and ridiculous. Five hours ago, Laney reminded me this would end. Time to brace for it, and forget how the constant anger I’ve carried like a second head has faded over these last few days. More than a few days. The weight of last winter has been fading since Laney came to work at Everett. She was always that way, though. Amy hated it, how I would say her roommate was funny or clever.

  The truth is, I almost asked Laney out first. Until I learned she was dating someone else. Amy was comfortable since we knew each other, and seemed the most obvious way to go.

  But I never stopped finding things to mention about Laney. Even b
ack then.

  Part of me feels guilty about it, talking about another girl with my girlfriend. I guess, I’ve always been intrigued with Laney and even if I never acted on anything, always been attracted to her.

  But I’m not Laney’s guy. She’s made that crystal clear. The sooner I face it, the better.

  “I guess we’ll see where it goes,” I finally say.

  Oscar stays for an hour longer, talking about my part as Best Man, pleading with me that I won’t let any of our old basketball teammates from high school do anything stupid, then leaves to help Nicole close up the Vanilla Bean.

  I push thoughts about the wedding out of my head since going there reminds me of Laney and how it’ll be the end of this little scheme. If we don’t have promotions by then, odds are we’re not getting them. Instead, I divert my attention to a hefty stack of boxes and bags waiting to be wrapped for a certain niece.

  I have no one to spend money on but myself, so I might’ve gone a little overboard with Kirstie’s present. An entire vanity set, complete with a mirror and padded stools. Three different princess dresses, and all the accessories, according to reviews.

  My living room looks like a pink and purple tornado. And I have no idea how to wrap this stupid thing.

  Giving up on ribbon, I try to make use of the quiet by working on the latest city budget and growth reports I received from the monotone manager earlier. I’m halfway through the projected growth for next year when a loud knock comes to the door.

  I bought my house last spring, but it’s forty-years-old and a knock of that gusto causes the walls to groan. Closing my laptop, I cross the room, getting tangled once in tissue paper and a thick gold ribbon. The neighborhood is quiet, mostly young families, and I don’t know most of them, so I’ve few guesses who’s trying to break in.

  I don’t expect to see Laney Brooks on my porch. At nine o’clock. With red, swollen eyes.

  Immediately the hair raises on my arms and I feel furious and protective. “Laney? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  My hand is on her arm before I finish. Like an instinct takes over, and touching her is most important.

  She sniffs, wiping her eyes as if she’s embarrassed to show emotion. “I’ve thought terrible things about you. Everything you did made me want to scream and throw things.” My grip loosens. Okay. I’m not sure what to say. Thankfully, she goes on, voice raw. “I didn’t want to work for you, but I really wanted a chance at Everett.”

  I’d be happy if this conversation ended. I step back, letting my hand fall away. “Okay, Brooks—”

  “So when we started this, I thought, no problem, right?” she barrels on. “I can do this. I’d be fine; there’s no way I’d fall for you.”

  Now she has my full attention.

  “But at the football game, I had . . . fun. Then with your family, you . . . you were like the first Bastien I met. And when I” – she hiccups – “when I told you some things about me in the car—I’ve never felt so safe with someone.”

  “Laney—”

  She stops me cold when she takes a fistful of my shirt, her head down, but her body close to mine. The warmth of her skin feels so right. So good. I still don’t know what’s going on, what she’s saying, or where this is going. Where to put my hands is a mystery, so I settle on her waist, gently, as if I’m afraid to touch her. Maybe I am.

  “I thought you cheated on her,” she whispers. “I felt so stupid for feeling anything about you when I knew you’d done terrible things to a friend. I tried to stop, but I think my feelings have been growing for a while and I didn’t realize. But you . . . you didn’t cheat on Amy, did you? She did.”

  I’m frozen. Pulse pounding. My hands tighten on her waist as her glassy eyes look up to me for an answer. “I didn’t cheat.”

  She closes her eyes and a tear drops off her lashes. I think my heart breaks a little. Laney rests her forehead against my chest. “I wish I could take back all the time I wasted thinking so horribly about you. I feel so stupid, and I’m sure you must think I’m some shrew or—”

  I can’t hold back. Not anymore. Not with her hair under my chin, her body against mine. It takes no time at all to stop her midsentence, trap her face in my hands and pull her lips to mine.

  Laney draws in a sharp breath and stiffens, but only for a moment. In another breath, she gives in and kisses me back. My arm wraps around her waist, drawing her in, needing her closer. Her fingertips trail up my arms, leaving little shocks of heat across my skin. I groan, an uncool sound, but I can’t help it. Not when she curls a hand around the back of my neck, urging me to deepen the kiss.

  I’m happy to accommodate.

  Lips parted, I drag her inside my house, then kick the door behind us.

  “What is this?” she murmurs against my mouth and kicks at one of the ribbons snaking around her shoes.

  “Kirstie. Birthday.” Less talking seems prudent right now.

  Laney chuckles. I feel the tremble of it in my chest. She stumbles back onto my couch, breaking us apart for half a breath, but soon enough she grabs my T-shirt and draws me to her. Her fingers rake through my hair, and the sensation of her fingernails on my scalp sends chills down my spine.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve made out with anyone, and I don’t ever remember it feeling like this. Sort of spinning and falling all at once.

  I almost forget how to breathe, how to move, when her hand touches my skin where my shirt slid up slightly. Her palm is warm and greedy as her fingers trace my back, my chest. She smiles against my lips when I melt against her, drawing my kiss down her jaw, to the soft space on her neck. I kiss her there, once, twice, three times, entirely lost to her. Entirely under her control.

  “Laney,” I say in a low, raspy voice once we break apart. My palm cups one side of her face. “I don’t want this to be done next week. I want this. Us together. Dating, and not to get a job.”

  She grins. She’s always had the best smile. Laney draws my hand to her lips and presses a kiss to my palm, then fingertips, before she meets my gaze. “I want us too. Now, will you kiss me again?”

  I lower my face, brushing our noses together, smiling as I whisper, “Brooks, you can have me whenever you want.”

  Chapter 20

  Laney

  Last night I’d left in a haze. A little stunned from kissing Bastien. I kissed Bastien.

  I think if I would’ve known how the man could take my breath away, I would’ve put aside doubts about him long ago.

  I’m still reeling.

  “So, then he asked me to meet his mom. Should I? I mean it’s sort of quick, right?” Janna is going on. Her voice sounds like she’s talking underwater. Focus.

  “Do you like him?” I ask.

  “Yeah. He checks all my boxes and honestly, the man can kiss. He can do a lot of things, if you know what I mean.” She waggles her eyebrows.

  I understand. Completely.

  Bastien must know I’m replaying every sultry detail of last night because he walks into the office and I soak in every tantalizing detail. The wave to his auburn hair, the sparkle in his eyes, the way his suits seem tailor made, but I don’t think he’s that frivolous with his money to buy a custom suit. He doesn’t need to; he looks perfect as is.

  I bite my lip. Honestly, I don’t even stop myself as I let my eyes roam without prejudice from his head to his toes. I smirk when the tips of his ears turn red as he catches me ogling.

  “Morning, Janna,” he says, clearing away a catch in his throat. “Miss Brooks—”

  “Miss?” I say under my breath.

  “Uh, can I see you in my office?”

  He’s trying not to smile. If this were any other day and Bastien asked me to speak to him in his office, I might be freaking out, but his hand runs across the small of my back for half a breath. Short a time as it is, my knees buckle all the same.

  “Sure,” I say. “I’ll follow you.”

  Bastien leaves us and I go to follow, but Janna catches my wr
ist, her mouth open. “When did you start schmoozing the boss? Like how far has this gone? How long?”

  “What, no—” Ah, what’s the point in denying. “It’s still pretty new.”

  “Angsty, I bet. You guys are always spouting off at each other.”

  “I’m not sure it’s angsty, but I like whatever it is,” I admit in a whisper. I love how she giggles like we’re teenagers and waves me to hurry after Bastien.

  My heart is in my throat when I close the door behind me, afraid to look at him, but he doesn’t give me a choice. When we’re tucked away from everyone, Bastien has his arms around my waist, and his mouth on mine.

  After a few kisses, I nudge him back. “For a second, I was thinking you might be telling me to forget last night.”

  “Did you leave with the impression that I’d want to forget anything?”

  I grin against his lips. “No. But you should know, this glass is going to steam if you keep it up.”

  “Uh, that sounds like an excellent idea.” But he pulls back and heads to his desk. “I talked with Oscar this morning and got these. We don’t have to sign them if you’re not ready, but I thought it’s something worth talking about.”

  I cross the room slowly. “Bastien,” I say, making sure the words are soft and warm against his neck. I love making him shudder. “I want this, and I want everyone here to know. I’m good signing the disclosure. You sound so nervous, boss. It’s weird.”

  He chuckles and hands me my copy of the relationship sheet. “I am nervous. In a good way.” Bastien clears his throat and his smile fades. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable since you’re still my assistant, so we’ll keep it professional at work. Sometimes people make things dirty with managers and assistants, and I don’t want you to feel that way.”

  “I’m not going to jump you and drag you into every closet,” I tell him, tracing his jawline. “We can control ourselves like the professionals we are.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  Giving him a peck, I wipe a smudge of my lipstick away. “Thanks for worrying about my honor, but I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, right?”

 

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