Читать книгу The Daddy Wish - Brenda Harlen - Страница 10
ОглавлениеAllison was avoiding him.
It was a fact that baffled Nate more than anything, but he couldn’t deny it was true.
Over the next few days, their paths continued to cross in the office. But every time he walked past her desk on the way to see his uncle, she seemed to be on the phone. And every time he walked out again, she scurried away from her desk to retrieve something from the printer or the photocopier or to water the plants on the window ledge.
At first he was amused by her obvious efforts to avoid any continuation of the conversation that had been aborted on their first day back after the holiday, but his amusement soon gave way to exasperation. As a Garrett and VP of Finance in the company, he was accustomed to being treated with respect, even deference.
He was not accustomed to being ignored. Especially not by a woman who had been sighing with pleasure in his arms only a few weeks earlier.
She was acting as if the kiss they’d shared had never happened, and maybe she wished it hadn’t. But he could still remember the taste of her lips, somehow tangy and sweet and incredibly responsive; he could still remember the heady joy of her slender curves pressed against him; and he could still remember wishing that he didn’t have to be on a plane at six fifteen the next morning, because he could think of all kinds of wicked and wonderful things they might do if they spent the night—and maybe several more—together.
For just a minute, maybe two, he’d considered forgetting about the trip with his buddies. Because the warm softness of Allison’s body was a hell of a lot more tempting than the promise of fresh powder on the black diamond trails.
But then she’d pulled away. When she looked at him, he saw in her melted chocolate–colored eyes a reflection of the same desire that was churning through his veins, but there was something else there, too. Surprise, which he could definitely relate to, not having expected a minor spark of chemistry to ignite such a blaze of passion, and maybe even a hint of confusion, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to respond to what was suddenly between them—yet another emotion he could relate to.
Even after more than three weeks, he couldn’t forget about that kiss and he couldn’t stop wanting her. And he wasn’t prepared to pretend that nothing had happened. Had he taken advantage of the situation? Undoubtedly. But he hadn’t taken advantage of her. In fact, she’d met him more than halfway.
And when he got out of his Friday afternoon meeting with his uncle, Nate was going to hang around her desk until Allison had no choice but to acknowledge him. Except that it was after six o’clock when he finally left the CFO’s office, and she was already gone.
He caught up with his older brother instead.
“Don’t you have a wife and a daughter waiting for you at home?” Nate asked, surprised to find him fiddling with design plans on a tablet.
Andrew shook his head. “They’ve decided that the first Friday of every month is girls’ night out. Tonight the plan was for pedicures, dinner and a movie. And they dragged Mom along, too.”
“I doubt much dragging was required,” Nate commented, well aware of how much Jane Garrett doted on all of her family—and especially her grandchildren.
“Probably not,” his brother allowed. “But since no one’s at home, I decided to take the time to polish up the details on the new occasional tables that should hit the market before next Christmas.”
“You do realize it’s the ninth of January?”
“Product development takes time and attention to detail,” Andrew reminded him.
Nate shrugged. “Right now, I’m more interested in dinner. Did you want to grab a burger and a beer at the Bar Down?”
Andrew saved his progress and shut down the tablet.
* * *
“So you know why I was working late on a Friday night,” Andrew said, when they were settled into a booth and waiting for their food. “But why were you hanging around the office?”
“I had a meeting with Uncle John that went late.”
“I imagine you’ll have a lot of those meetings over the next few weeks.”
Nate nodded. “He’s been in charge for a long time— I know it’s not going to be easy for him to let go.”
Their uncle had been talking, mostly in vague terms, about retirement for a couple of years now. Now Nate would be sitting behind the big desk in the CFO’s office by the end of the month. And from behind that desk, he would have a prime view of the CFO’s undeniably sexy executive assistant.
“So why don’t you seem thrilled that your promotion is coming through sooner than you’d anticipated?”
“I’m happy about the promotion,” Nate said. “I just wish it wasn’t happening for the reasons it is.” Although he’d frequently lamented the fact that his uncle kept pushing back his retirement, he never wanted it to be forced upon him.
“Now he can finally take Aunt Ellen on that cruise he’s been promising since their fortieth anniversary.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Almost four years.” Andrew sipped his beer. “But somehow I don’t think you’re thinking about their vacation plans.”
“I was just wondering why Uncle John was so insistent that Allison Caldwell stay on as my executive assistant.”
“Probably because she’s been doing the job for more than six years and knows the ins and outs of the office better than anyone else,” his brother pointed out. “Do you have a problem with Allison?”
“No,” he said quickly.
Maybe too quickly.
His brother’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you haven’t slept with her.”
“I haven’t slept with her.” Nate thanked the waitress who set his plate in front of him and immediately picked up his burger, grateful for the interruption as much as the food.
“Keep it that way,” Andrew advised when the server was gone. “She’s a valuable employee of the company.”
“I’m aware of the code of conduct in the employee handbook,” Nate reminded his brother. “I helped write it.”
“Along with Sabrina Barton from Human Resources.”
Nate bit into his burger.
“Tell me,” Andrew said, dipping his spoon into his Guinness stew. “Did you sleep with her before or after the handbook went to the printer?”
“It was a brief fling more than three years ago, after she gave notice that she was leaving the company,” he pointed out. “And she threw herself at me.”
“The curse of being a Garrett,” his brother acknowledged sarcastically. “But you could exercise some discretion and not catch every woman who throws herself at you.”
“It’s basic supply and demand—and with the number of single Garrett men rapidly dwindling, the unmarried ones are in greater demand.” And he very much enjoyed being in demand.
Andrew shook his head as he scooped up more stew. Nate focused on his own plate, and conversation shifted to the hockey game playing out on the wide TV screen over the bar.
The waitress had cleared their empty plates and offered refills of their drinks. They both opted for coffee.
Andrew’s cup was halfway to his lips when his cell phone chimed. He read the message on the display, then looked up.
“Problem?” Nate asked.
His brother glanced past him and smiled. “Not at all.”
Over his shoulder, Nate saw that Andrew wasn’t looking at something but someone. Rachel Ellis—now Rachel Garrett—his wife of four months.
She slid onto the bench seat beside her husband and brushed her lips over his. “Hi,” she said, her tone soft and intimate.
“Hi, yourself,” he said. “How was girls’ night?”
“Fabulous.” She snuggled close. “We got our toenails painted, then had dinner at Valentino’s—with triple-chocolate truffle cake for dessert. But there weren’t any good movies playing, so Maura went to your parents’ house for a sleepover.”
Andrew gestured for the waitress to bring the bill.
Nate sighed. “Whatever happened to bros before—” he caught Rachel’s narrowed gaze and chose his words carefully “—sisters-in-law?”
“I’d say sorry, bro, but I’m not,” Andrew told him.
“I know you’re not.”
And Nate was happy for his brother. Before he met Rachel, Andrew had spent a lot of years grieving the loss of his first wife and trying to raise his daughter on his own. With Rachel, Andrew and Maura were a family again.
“Why are you hanging out with your brother tonight instead of seducing a beautiful woman?” Rachel asked him.
“I’ve given up any hope of finding a woman as beautiful as you,” Nate replied smoothly.
“Which is the same thing you’d say if Kenna was here instead of me,” Rachel guessed.
“Because both of my brothers have impeccable taste.”
Andrew signed the credit card receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.
“What happened to the girl you were with at the Christmas party?”
The mischievous glint in his sister-in-law’s eyes made him suspect that she wasn’t just fishing for information but had actually seen something that night. “I wasn’t with anyone.”
“I know you didn’t take a date,” Rachel acknowledged. “But I definitely saw you come out of the cloakroom with someone.”
Nate sipped his coffee and pretended not to know who she was talking about.
Huffing out a breath, she turned to Andrew. “You must have seen her. Pretty blonde in a green dress.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t notice anyone but you.”
“That’s so sappy,” she said, but she was smiling.
“And true,” her husband assured her.
Nate rolled his eyes. “Don’t you guys have an empty house waiting for you?”
“As a matter of fact,” Andrew said.
“He’s changing the subject,” Rachel pointed out. “Because he doesn’t want you to figure out who she was.”
“I didn’t leave with anyone that night,” Nate said. “I had a six a.m. flight the next morning.”
“I didn’t say you left with her,” she said. “Just that you were in the cloakroom with her.”
“Maybe we both went to get our coats at the same time?” he suggested.
Rachel shook her head, unconvinced, but she let her husband nudge her out of the booth. “If your memory clears, you should bring her to dinner Sunday night.”
Nate knew that wasn’t going to happen. Stealing a kiss from a coworker at the company Christmas party was one thing—inviting his executive assistant to his parents’ house to meet the family was something else entirely.
* * *
Friday nights always loomed long and empty ahead of Allison after she gave Dylan a hug and a kiss goodbye and sent him off to his dad’s house for the weekend.
She tried not to resent the fact that Jefferson and his new wife had a three-bedroom raised ranch on a cute little court in Charisma’s Westdale neighborhood. She’d always wanted her son to have a backyard in which he could run and play, and now he did. She just wished it was something she’d been able to give to him every day and not every other weekend when he was with his father.
But she was grateful that they had a nice two-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor of a well-maintained building with a park across the street. The rent wasn’t cheap, but after she paid the bills each month, she was able to put aside a small amount of money into a vacation fund. Last summer, they’d gone to Washington, DC. This year, she intended to take him camping—to give her city boy a taste of the outdoors. She had some concerns as to whether or not he’d be able to survive a whole week without television or video games, but she wanted to try.
However, it was only January now, which meant she didn’t have to determine their summer plans just yet. In the interim, she should cherish this time on her own: forty-eight hours in which to do whatever she wanted. She could lounge around in her pj’s and eat popcorn for dinner while she watched TV if she wanted. She didn’t have to prepare meals for anyone else or pick up dirty socks that missed the hamper in the bathroom or pull up the covers on a bed that had been left unmade.
But the sad reality was that she had no life outside of work and her son. She could go to the bookstore and lose herself in a good story for a few hours, but lately even her favorite romance novels had left her feeling more depressed than inspired.
She wanted to believe in love and happy-ever-after, but real life hadn’t given her much hope in that direction. And if she let herself give in to her desire for Nathan Garrett, she was more likely to end up unemployed than marrying the boss, and she had no intention of jeopardizing her job for a hot fling with a man who probably wouldn’t remember her name the next day.
Instead, she called her friend Chelsea, thinking that they might be able to catch a movie. As it turned out, her friend was working, but she convinced Allison to come in to the Bar Down for a bite to eat. The sports bar was usually hopping on weekends, so she didn’t think they’d have much time to talk, but her growling stomach and the promise of spinach dip were a stronger lure even than her friend’s company.
To her surprise, there were only a handful of tables in use, and more of the seats at the bar were vacant than occupied.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so quiet in here on a Friday night,” Allison remarked.
Chelsea set a glass of pinot noir on a paper coaster in front of her friend. “It might pick up a little bit later, but the first weekend after the holidays is always slow. Most people are dragging after their first week back at work—or too worried about paying their credit card bills—to want to go out.”
“I can understand that,” Allison acknowledged.
“And I’m guessing the only reason you’re here is that it’s Dylan’s weekend with his dad.”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I’ve got a thousand things to do at home—with a thousand loads of laundry being at the top of the list—but it just felt too quiet tonight.”
“Did you come in here to see me or in search of some male companionship?”
Allison’s eye roll was the only response she was going to give to that question.
Her friend sighed. “When was the last time you went out on a date—the night Dylan was conceived?”
“I date,” she said.
Chelsea’s brows lifted.
“I do. I even let you set me up on that blind date with your cousin Ivan not too long ago.”
“Evan,” her friend corrected. “And that was more than three years ago.”
“It was not.”
“It was,” Chelsea insisted. “Because he didn’t meet Wendy until a few months after that, and they just celebrated their second wedding anniversary.”
“Oh.” She picked up her glass, sipped. “It really didn’t seem like it was that long ago.”
“You’re a fabulous mother, but you’re also a young and sexy woman hiding behind your responsibilities to your son. There should be more to your life.”
“I don’t have time for anything more.”
“You have to make time,” her friend insisted. “To get out and meet new people.”
“Why can’t I just hang out with the people I already know?”
Chelsea sighed. “How long has it been since you’ve had sex? No—” She shook her head. “Forget that. How long has it been since you’ve even kissed a guy?”
Sex was, admittedly, a distant and foggy memory. But every detail of that kiss under the mistletoe was still seared into her brain despite all of her efforts to forget about it, tempting her with the unspoken promise of so much more.
“Oh. My. God.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You’ve been holding out on me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mentioned the word kiss and your eyes got this totally dreamy look and your cheeks actually flushed.”
Allison’s cheeks burned hotter. “It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” her friend decided. “When? Where? And who?”
Because she knew Chelsea wouldn’t be dissuaded, she answered her questions in order. “Before Christmas, at a party. It was just one kiss, and no way am I telling you who.”
“Before Christmas? And I’m only hearing about this now?”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” Which was a big fat lie, but she mentally crossed her fingers in the hope that her friend might believe it.
“Just one kiss?”
She nodded.
“Honey, if you’re still blushing over one kiss more than three weeks later, it isn’t just a big deal, it must have been one helluva kiss.”
“I haven’t been kissed like that in...” Allison tried to think back to a time when another man had touched her the way Nathan had touched her, kissed her as if he wanted nothing more than to go on kissing her, and her mind came up blank “...ever.”
“Ty—” Chelsea called out to the man working the other end of the bar. “Can you cover for me for a few minutes?”
He winked at her. “Your wish is my command.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes as she came around to the other side of the bar and slid onto the empty stool beside her friend, so they could talk without their conversation being overheard.
“Tell me about your holidays,” Allison suggested, hoping to redirect her friend’s focus.
Chelsea shook her head. “Uh-uh. This is about you, not me.”
“But your life is so much interesting.”
“Not this time.”
Allison traced the base of her wineglass with a fingertip. “It really was just one kiss, and it’s not going any further than that.”
“Why not?” her friend demanded.
“Because it was the office Christmas party.”
“It was someone you work with?”
She nodded.
“How closely?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters.”
“Too closely.”
Chelsea sighed. “Can’t you give me at least a hint?”
She wished she could. In fact, she wished she could tell her friend everything. But Chelsea was a die-hard romantic, and the last thing Allison wanted or needed was any encouragement. Because even knowing all of the reasons that getting involved with Nathan Garrett would be a mistake, even knowing he’d been with Melanie Hedley in Colorado, she couldn’t help wishing he would kiss her again.
“No, because you’ll encourage me to do something crazy, and anything more than that one kiss would be totally crazy.”
“He really has you flustered,” Chelsea mused.
“It looks like Ty could use a hand behind the bar.”
“He’s fine.” Then her attention shifted, and her lips curved. “Although maybe I should vacate this stool for a customer—because there’s one headed in this direction who should be able to make you forget the mystery kisser and probably your own name.”
Allison turned her head to follow her friend’s gaze and sucked in a breath when her eyes locked with Nathan Garrett’s cool gray ones.
She immediately turned back to Chelsea. “Are you crazy? He’s practically my boss.”
She didn’t know if it was the words or the heat that she could feel infusing her cheeks, but somehow her response magically tied all of the loose threads together for her friend.
“It was him,” Chelsea stated. “You kissed Nathan Garrett.”
“He kissed me,” she clarified. “And it was only because of the mistletoe.”
“If he’d kissed me, I wouldn’t have let it end there.”
“You mean he hasn’t kissed you?”
Her friend’s brows lifted. “I know he has a reputation, but it isn’t all bad. In fact—” she grinned “—most of it is very good. And if he’s half as good a kisser as his brother Daniel, I can understand why your pulse is still racing.”
“My pulse isn’t still racing,” she denied.
Chelsea just smiled, rising from her stool as the soon-to-be CFO slid onto the vacant seat on Allison’s opposite side.
“What can I get for you, Nate?” Chelsea asked, returning to her position behind the bar.
“I’ll have a Pepsi.”
“Straight up or on the rocks?”
He smiled. “On the rocks.”
The bartender stepped away to pour his soda, and Nate turned to Allison. “You skipped out early today.”
She shook her head. “I only take a half-hour lunch each day so I can finish at four on Fridays.”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“Is that going to be a problem, Mr. Garrett?”
“I don’t see why it would.”
Allison picked up her wine, set it down again. Dammit—Chelsea was right. Her pulse was racing and her knees were weak, and there was no way she could sit here beside him, sharing a drink and conversation and not think about the fact that her tongue had tangled with his.
“I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“You haven’t finished your wine,” he pointed out.
“I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Stay,” he said.
She lifted her brows. “I don’t take orders from you outside of the office, Mr. Garrett.”
“Sorry—your insistence on calling me ‘Mr. Garrett’ made me forget that we weren’t at the office,” he told her. “Please, will you keep me company for a little while?”
“I’m sure there are any number of other women here who will happily keep you company when I’m gone.”
“I don’t want anyone else’s company,” he told her.
“Mr. Garrett—”
“Nate.”
She sighed. “Why?”
“Because it’s my name.”
“I meant, why do you want my company?”
“Because I like you,” he said simply.
“You don’t even know me.”
His gaze skimmed down to her mouth, lingered, and she knew he was thinking about the kiss they’d shared. The kiss she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.
“So give me a chance to get to know you,” he suggested.
“You’ll have that chance when you’re in the CFO’s office.”
She frowned at the plate of pita bread and spinach dip that Chelsea slid onto the bar in front of her. “I didn’t order this.”
“But you want it,” her friend said, and the wink that followed suggested she was referring to more than the appetizer.
“Actually, I want my bill. It’s getting late and...” But her friend had already turned away.
She was tempted to walk out and leave Chelsea to pick up the tab, but the small salad she’d made for her own dinner after Dylan had gone was a distant memory and she had no willpower when it came to the Bar Down’s three-cheese spinach dip.
Allison blew out a breath and picked up a grilled pita triangle. “The service here sucks.”
“I’ve always found that the company of a beautiful woman makes up for many deficiencies.”
It was, she was sure, just one of a thousand similar lines that tripped easily off of his tongue. And while she wanted to believe that she was immune to such an obvious flirtatious ploy, the heat pulsing through her veins proved otherwise.
Then he smiled—that slow, sexy smile that never failed to make her skin tingle. It had been a long time since she’d been an active participant in the games men and women played—so long, in fact, that she wasn’t sure she even knew the rules anymore.
What she did know was that Nathan Garrett was way out of her league.
