One Night with the Boss. Teresa Southwick
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A feeling had come over him that he hadn’t experienced for a long time. Survivor’s guilt. Henry was dead and Brady was alive. In college they had been excited about a future in business together, then suddenly Henry had died and all those dreams disappeared with him. Brady had to carry on alone. It was a stark reminder that anyone he cared about could be gone in an instant.
Brady looked at Olivia’s face, so familiar, so alive, and realized he didn’t know what he’d do without her. At work, of course. And she was waiting for an answer to her question.
“Chris reminds me of someone I used to know in college.”
“Henry Milton,” she said. “I noticed the resemblance, too.”
He nodded. The two of them had been inseparable all through school, always at each other’s houses. “Chris is bright, enthusiastic and would be an asset to this company.”
“I thought so, too. So I’ll offer him my job.”
“No.” He straightened away from the desk and looked down at her. “He’s too young and inexperienced and smart enough to realize it.”
“He can learn. I did.”
“The thing is that you and I learned together. He’d be stepping into a high-power situation.” He shook his head. “No, I think his talents would be better utilized in research and development. Contact human resources and tell them to find something for him.”
“Okay. He’ll be an asset to this company. But that means we’re back to square one.”
“It would appear so.”
“You’re too damn cheerful, Brady.” Her eyes flashed with frustration. “You do realize that in another week I’m leaving. Whether or not you’ve hired anyone to replace me. This isn’t a joke and I wish you would stop treating it that way.”
She was being incredibly stubborn about this, and he blamed Leonard. “Why do you have to go?”
“You know why.”
“Don’t you think it’s incredibly selfish of Leonard to insist that you move away?”
“He’s not insisting.” She met his gaze as if she expected a challenge.
“Okay, then. Why doesn’t he relocate from...” He waited for her to fill in the blank with a city or state and when she didn’t, he was peeved. “He should be the one to move, find a job in Blackwater Lake.”
She blinked up at him for several seconds. “It’s a small town and there’s nothing here that would utilize his particular skills,” she said after some thought.
Brady recognized the expression on her face. It was the one she wore when she had to think fast, to come up with an explanation or particular spin. The truth shouldn’t take that much effort.
“What particular skills does he have?”
Her chin lifted in that stubborn, familiar way, just before she got defiant. “Well, for one thing, he’s a good kisser.”
“Is that right?”
That might get him a volunteer job at the charity fund-raiser kissing booth, but gainful employment was questionable. He was aware of the edge in his voice and the tight knot in his gut. It was the first time he’d thought about her actually kissing Leonard. Or in Leonard’s bed. A man touching her, any man. He didn’t like any of the above, not even a little bit.
This sensation had all the characteristics of jealousy but he couldn’t believe that’s what it was and didn’t care right this minute. He still had questions. Like...
Were there other men? Wouldn’t he know if there were? Who were they and why hadn’t he met them?
He hadn’t known about Leonard and suddenly, with an intensity that surprised him, he wanted to know everything.
“How many men have you kissed, Liv?”
“That’s none of your business.” Annoyance and indignation looked really good on her.
“I’m making it my business. You’ve worked for me a long time and I don’t know who you hang out with. You say Leonard is a good kisser. How many men have you kissed to compare him with?”
“Enough. Ask anyone.” The pulse in her throat fluttered frantically. “Unlike you, I don’t have a reputation for not being much in the kissing department.”
That was a semidesperate attempt to create a diversion but Brady was intrigued, in the mood to push the advantage. And he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth.
“I’ve never had any complaints about my technique. You shouldn’t believe rumors.”
“That’s hard to do without any contradicting data...” She shrugged, but it was uneasy, not the nonchalant gesture she was going for.
“Well, then, with my reputation on the line, I feel obligated to provide you with the necessary information.”
Her mouth dropped open and Brady forgot about his reputation and everything else except the need to taste her lips. He closed the distance between them in one step, then threaded his fingers into her silky hair with one hand and pulled her close with the other.
“Here goes.”
Chapter Four
Olivia couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d wondered forever how it would feel to be in Brady’s arms, with their bodies pressed together from chest to knee. The reality was so much better than anything her imagination had cooked up.
If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
For one thing, she hadn’t thought about his fingers threaded through her hair and how exquisitely romantic that would feel. Or the intensity darkening his eyes. The expression did things to her insides, things she couldn’t put into words because the feeling was simply AWESOME. All caps!
His mouth hadn’t officially touched hers yet and it was already the best kiss she’d ever had, proving that it wasn’t how you kissed, but whom.
“Liv,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her cheek and then her lips.
The touch had heat mixed with shivers racing over her shoulders and arms. So near yet so far, she thought as his warm breath caressed her lips. It taunted and teased and she’d already waited years for this. She was so over being passive. On tiptoe, she closed the infinitesimal distance between them and softly pressed her lips against his as she slid one arm around his waist and the other hand up to his chest.
His heart thundered beneath her palm, making her heart thunder, too. His mouth was soft and met her own just before his tongue lazily skimmed her bottom lip. The flash was like tissue paper igniting and threatened to make her go up in flames.
Worse, the touch made her anticipate. She