IN LOVE WITH HER BOSS Read online

  And as difficult as it was to think about, last night's kiss was among the first pieces of evidence that she wasn't ruined.

  The kiss had been gentle, sweet and hot all at the same time. It had made something deep inside her clench, then release. A lovely melting that had made her feel like a woman.

  But there was no telling how long and how far that feeling would take her. And certainly Josh didn't know what that brief meeting of lips represented to her. As kind and gentle as he was, she couldn't imagine explaining to him how much that one simple kiss had meant.

  Of course, she couldn't imagine facing him in the office tomorrow either.

  The first dozen cookies were just coming out of the oven when the phone rang. Lori started, staring at the phone. David hadn't found her here, had he?

  Knowing was better than not knowing, of course, so she set down the hot cookie sheet and made herself cross to the phone. With a deep breath, she lifted the receiver, praying it wasn't a man's voice on the other end of the line.

  But it was. Her spine wilted against the wall. It was a man's voice, all right. It was Josh's.

  "Hello? Lori? Are you there?"

  "Yes, yes. I'm here." She tucked the receiver between her ear and her shoulder and moved back to the cookie sheet, hoping the smell of the warm cookies would ease the rapid beating of her heart.

  "I thought we should talk," Josh said.

  In her mind's eye, Lori saw his mouth, she felt again the way it had pressed against hers, the way he had coaxed her into opening for him. A shiver trickled down her spine.

  No. She slid one of the cookies off the sheet and juggled it between her two palms, desperate for the taste of chocolate and brown sugar, counting on its can't-think-of-anything-else quality to block out the memory.

  "Lori? Honey?"

  The casual endearment plunged straight for her heart, so she took a huge, cleansing bite of cookie. A melted chocolate chip seared the surface of her tongue. She let out a strangled moan.

  "Lori. Damn it. Are you all right?"

  "Fen," she mumbled around the hot bite. She managed to chew, then swallow. "Fine. I was eating a hot cookie. I burned my tongue."

  The sudden, charged silence on his end of the line made her close her eyes. There was no doubt where his mind was going – exactly where her mind had been.

  "That's what I called to talk about," he finally said.

  Burning tongues? she thought, almost giddy. But that brought her mind back to their kiss. "It was a mistake," she said hastily.

  Josh's voice was dry. "Burning your tongue?"

  Lori closed her eyes, feeling stupid. Embarrassed. "That too," she answered.

  "It was just a kiss, Lori," he said.

  Another wave of embarrassment rolled over her, followed by a second wave, this one of relief. Just a kiss. Of course, it was just a kiss in his mind! While she was seeing it as some kind of personal emotional barometer, to Josh it was just a kiss. Lips meeting lips. Yes, there'd been some tongues involved too – burning tongues – but on New Year's Eve, people kissed. Even with tongues.

  He didn't see it as a pivotal moment, as an emotional statement.

  For him it was "just a kiss."

  Lori cleared her throat. "You're right," she said. "There's no reason to make a big deal about it."

  "Good," Josh said heartily, though the heartiness sounded a bit forced, like the soap-star parade host on the nearby TV who was currently describing the latest float going by with its "dozens of beautiful, waving mermaids in spectacular scales made of shiny and fragrant citrus leaves."

  Lori rubbed at the center of her forehead, telling herself she was imagining things. "I'm sorry, Josh. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable."

  "Nah. But I didn't like starting a new year with an awkwardness between us. You're sure you're okay?"

  "Of course." She let herself relax. "Believe it or not, you don't have to treat me like something made of glass."

  He laughed. "You're talking to the man whose windpipe you nearly broke a week ago. I know exactly how to treat you."

  "And how is that?"

  "With caution, honey. With caution."

  This time the endearment wasn't so wrenching and she laughed. Knowing that Josh didn't find anything special in their kiss made everything so much easier for her. "Thanks, Josh."

  "For what?"

  "For the call. For taking me to the party last night. I haven't had a … normal time like that in a long while."

  "Is that so? What makes something 'normal' for Lori Hanson?" he asked.

  Lori picked up one of the cooled cookies and nibbled at the edge. How had things been, how had she been, before her mother's illness and before David came into her life?

  "Friends," she said, then sighed. "I left a lot of them behind right after college. My mother had moved to the northern end of the state, and I went there to take care of her when she became ill."

  "Ah," Josh said. "What else?"

  "Laughter, I suppose." She swallowed. "Later … later I didn't find that much to laugh about."

  "What did you like to do, when things were normal?"

  "Oh, I don't know. What do people do who have just gotten out of college? Hang out? Go to the movies?" She remembered the last day of what had been her "normal" life. In the evening her mother had called her and told Lori about her cancer diagnosis. But that afternoon… "I loved to go for walks in the rain."

  Josh was silent a moment. "Hmm. Well, no rain in Whitehorn today. No snow coming down, either. But if you'd like to do something outdoors…"

  "Oh, I—" Lori swallowed her immediate refusal, reminding herself that she was in Whitehorn to make changes. "What did you have in mind?"

  "Would you like to go sledding?" His voice held a boyish note.

  Lori found herself smiling. "Sledding? I don't know how to sled."

  "No one knows 'how' to sled. You just sled. You sit down, point yourself south, and hold on."

  "You don't steer?" she asked.

  "You won't have to steer," Josh answered. "I'll do the steering for you."

  Let Josh steer her? She'd let herself be controlled by many things in her life, by circumstances and then by her husband, and look what a disaster that had been. But this was Josh. Big, kind Josh, who she … trusted.

  Her heart lurched in her chest. She did trust him.

  And she could. It was really okay. Because he'd told her there was nothing special about their kiss. He didn't expect anything more from her.

  Suddenly Lori felt like one of the giant balloons in the New Year's Day parade. Buoyant, as an unfamiliar eagerness, an excitement for life, filled her. "When do we go?"

  * * *

  Dozens of people congregated in and around the sledding area. Cars were parked below a ten-foot bank of plowed snow. Just a few feet from the edge of the bank sat spectators in lawn chairs, steam curling from their thermos cups of hot coffee and cocoa as they lifted their faces to watch those sliding down the bill directly ahead.

  Dressed in her warmest clothes, Lori climbed up the steep slope behind Josh. He carried the sled under one arm and turned to check on her from time to time. Despite the alarming speed of the kids whizzing past them on various pieces of snow paraphernalia, Lori managed to smile brilliantly at him each time.

  Surely they wouldn't move as fast. Besides, she trusted Josh.

  Their first run was as exhilarating as she'd imagined. Josh sat behind her, and she didn't mind at all leaning back against the wide wall of his chest. The cold air slapped her cheeks as they slid down the hill – at a decorous, yet still exciting pace – and when they shushed to a stop, she couldn't wait for another turn.

  It only made it better to realize no steering was involved at all. Other than making sure their sled wasn't pointed in the direction of a particularly treacherous-looking icy patch, Josh just pointed the thing downward and allowed them to slide away.

  The next ride was even more fun.

  At the top of the hill, preparing f
or their third run, Lori couldn't help but turn to look back at Josh, seated behind her on the sled. Her shoulder braced against his chest, she grinned at him, knowing her cheeks and nose must be as red as his. "This is great!"

  He didn't smile back. He didn't nod at her either. What he did do caused her heart to leap into her throat, and it stayed there, hammering against her skin.

  His gaze focused on her mouth. Sharpened.

  Lori swallowed. "What?" she said.

  His nostrils flared. "Your mouth. It's … flushed. It was like that last night."

  Lori's body heated beneath her parka. "It was cold last night, too," she said.

  "Not the cold." He shook his head. "It wasn't the cold that made your mouth that way. It was mine."

  Lori remembered putting the back of her hand to her lips. She remembered feeling the heat that he'd left behind. "It was just a kiss," she whispered, her voice gone suddenly hoarse.

  Josh opened his mouth, but then the sledders waiting behind them shouted for them to get moving. Lori faced forward, preparing for their run.

  Josh's heels dug into the snow to propel them forward. Just as he pushed, Lori looked over her shoulder. "You said it wasn't anything special."

  Her comment caught Josh by surprise, that was obvious. His whole body jerked, the movement starting them moving, faster than ever before. His movement also altered their path, heading them straight for that slick path of packed, icy snow he'd been so careful to avoid before.

  Lori gulped, their speed several notches higher than previously. The dots of colored parkas around them began blurring. "Josh!" She was afraid to turn and look at him. She was afraid to look ahead. Their speed increased, and her eyes squeezed shut.

  A shout forced them open. Instead of slowing at the bottom of the run as they had before, their increased momentum had them heading straight for the line of spectator-filled lawn chairs. People scattered, dragging their chairs with them, leaving Lori, Josh and their sled with a clear path to…

  Air.

  They hung in it, forever it seemed, as they flew off the edge of the ten-foot snowbank that dropped to the parking lot below. Then they dropped. Bounced.

  The sled skittered off in one direction. Lori landed on her back in a cloudy pile of snow. Then, as if they were fated to this pose, Josh half-fell on top of her.

  She gasped. He quickly shifted, rolling to pull her on top of him. His hands fell back to the snow.

  Cold nose to cold nose, they stared at each other. His face was grim. "Damn right it was special," he said.

  Then, without using his hands to hold her in any way, he lifted his mouth. And kissed her. His lips were cold, but his tongue was hot.

  Lori shuddered. He thought their kiss was special.

  Too.

  Oh, it was scary how good that sounded. He slanted his head, taking the kiss deeper. Lori's body softened against his.

  Softened. She'd gone soft.

  Wrenching herself away from his mouth and away from Josh's powerful body, she jumped to her feet. "I think we should go," she said, her voice tight.

  He dropped his head back into the snowdrift and closed his eyes. "Okay. Just give me a minute."

  Lori swallowed, now concerned. "Are you all right?" The snow pile had cushioned her fall, but maybe Josh's landing had been more jarring.

  One of his eyes opened. "Sooner or later I will be, I'm sure." Then he smiled at her, that big, sweet one that seemed to melt the snow beneath her feet.

  Lori's insides went to mush again, too.

  She spun in the direction of his car, the soles of her snowboots slipping in her haste to put distance between them. Kisses, special kisses, were one thing.

  But going soft was another thing altogether. Going soft was way, way too costly.

  * * *

  Josh either didn't detect or ignored Lori's agitated reaction to their second kiss. On the way back toward town, she stared out the passenger window, pretending an interest in the snowbanks the plows had left on the side of the road.

  Josh slowed the car at an intersection and glanced at her. "Do you mind if we stop by Melissa and Wyatt's?" he asked. "I told them I'd drop by today to pick something up."

  She should refuse. She should want to get away from Josh and his dangerous ways as soon as possible. But he was offering her another chance to see Melissa, she reminded herself, even as she nodded. Knowing how treacherous he was to her should keep her safe enough.

  The Norths ushered them into their large, warm ranch house with sincere delight. Melissa sent the men off into the den with a bowl of popcorn and another of potato chips, while she urged Lori into a seat at the table in the cheery kitchen decorated in accents of blue and white.

  Melissa smiled at Lori. "Thank goodness you're here."

  Though puzzled, Lori couldn't help but smile back. "Why is that?"

  "Our son Tim is staying with a friend for the weekend, leaving me alone with Wyatt, a man who has only one thing on his mind." She rolled her eyes. "Football. Do you have any idea how many games there are on TV today?"

  Lori shook her head, amused. "I can't say that I do."

  Melissa sighed, setting two cups of tea on the table. Then she fetched a plate of cookies and sat across from Lori. "You've never been married then," she said.

  Lori looked down at her teacup. "As a matter of fact, I have."

  "Oh." Melissa was silent for a long minute, then her hand came over Lori's free one. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

  Lori's head jerked up. "Oh. He's not dead." She looked back down. "But our marriage, it's over."

  Melissa's gaze didn't waver. "And it wasn't a happy one."

  "No. We've been divorced for three years."

  Melissa pushed the cookie plate Lori's way. "So you gave up on men?"

  "Oh, I don't know…" Lori shrugged. "I don't think I've really given any man…"

  "A chance?" Melissa supplied. "That must be a pretty tall order, rebuffing the ones who try. You're very beautiful, you know." A mischievous smile curled her lips. "Wyatt even mentioned it to me, and he knows I'm the jealous type."

  The gentle teasing warmed Lori. This camaraderie, this sense of warm acceptance was why she'd sought out her sister. "I don't think you need to worry, though," Lori said. "It's very clear Wyatt has the woman he wants."

  Melissa smiled, and lifted her teacup in a toast. "To men."

  Lori shook her head, as she raised her own cup. "To your happy marriage." She sipped, then let out a little sigh. "It must feel great to have done it right, to have made the right decisions."

  Melissa sat back in her chair. "Yes. Finally, we did."

  Lori's eyebrows rose. "Finally?" Then embarrassed at what must sound like prying, she leaped into an apology. "I'm sorry, it's none of my business."

  "It's all right." Melissa scooted her chair closer to the table. "It's not a secret, and in Whitehorn we couldn't keep it one anyway. While he's a year older than me, Wyatt and I were high-school sweethearts. We planned to get married after I graduated."

  "But something happened?"

  A shadow passed over Melissa's face. "My senior year my mother and I moved to California. The separation was difficult for me and Wyatt, though we still loved each other and we still wanted to be together desperately. But my mom needed me in California, Wyatt was in college in Montana, and the time apart kept stretching longer and longer. Then one night Wyatt went to a party with a college buddy. Too much to drink, a beautiful woman who seemed to ease his loneliness, and one night later that beautiful woman – the daughter of a state senator – was pregnant."

  Lori swallowed. "Then Wyatt … he…"

  "Married her," Melissa said. "Six years later they were divorced, and Wyatt came back to Whitehorn, having no idea that I'd returned too, and opened the Hip Hop. It was quite a … reunion." Melissa grinned.

  Lori found herself fascinated. "What happened?"

  "Well, for one thing, he kidnapped me."

  Lori jerked back, the idea of Wyatt forci
ng Melissa to do something against her will disturbing. "No!"

  Melissa chuckled. "It sounds drastic, I know, but the truth is, he thought it was romantic."

  "It's never romantic to be coerced into something."

  The good humor in Melissa's eyes extinguished. "Oh, Lori." She reached out and touched the back of her hand. "It wasn't exactly like you're thinking."

  The only thing Wyatt really forced me into doing was listen to him. And the truth is, we needed to talk about what had happened between us in order to get beyond our past mistakes, our past hurts."

  Lori nodded. "Okay. I'm glad he didn't … didn't hurt you."

  "Never. Not once in the way you mean," Melissa said, her vehemence touching. "We have a strong marriage. We have a son. We have a love that was tested, but that survived."

  Lori blinked at the tears stinging the corner of her eyes. "So there really is a happily-ever-after?" she said lightly, ignoring the lump in her throat.

  "If you find the right man. If you understand that every moment won't be happy, but that you want to share all the happy moments you do have with him." Lori had to blink again. "You should start a column. Advice for the lovelorn."

  Melissa grinned. "Believe it or not, I don't usually spill my views on love and marriage like this. But with you…" She shrugged.

  That wonderful feeling of warmth and friendship glowed like a light inside Lori. "Thank you," she said.

  "You might not want to be so grateful quite yet," Melissa answered, wagging her finger. "Because I'm feeling an undeniable urge to matchmake too, or at the very least, pry. What's going on with you and Josh?"

  "He's my boss."

  "And what else?"

  "Nothing," Lori said, banishing the memory of his mouth against hers, the mild scratch of his whiskers against the edge of her lips. "He's just being kind to me."

  "Oh, yeah. That's exactly how I would describe the kiss you two shared last night. It was definitely a 'kind' kiss."

  "He scares me," Lori blurted out.

  Melissa froze. "Josh scares you? I know he's giant-sized, but he doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

  His bones were long and strong and covered with warm flesh that smelled of a tantalizing, delicious spice. His kisses were delicious, too. Lori couldn't tell her half sister that Josh scared her because he was too delicious, too tantalizing. That he made her soft, and she couldn't afford to let down her guard that way again. "It's just that my ex-husband…" Her voice trailed off, and she lifted her hand, let it drop.