IN LOVE WITH HER BOSS Page 9

  He ran a slow hand through his hair, as if the telling of the story exhausted him. "I had already left for the job site, so I had no idea that Kay then decided to make the climb solo. I would have stopped her if I'd known, or gone with her – something. About halfway into the climb, she fell."

  Lori's fingers squeezed her mug. "And?"

  "She died instantly." He closed his eyes. "It's been … hard getting over the loss."

  "I'm sorry, Josh."

  Some quiet moments passed, because Lori didn't know what else to say. Other than the truth. "What I've been working on is – is getting over my marriage," she finally said.

  His gaze found her and she wanted to duck from its steady regard. Instead though, she forced the bald, ugly words out of her mouth. "He beat me."

  Josh's body twitched, though Lori knew he'd guessed the truth long ago. "Beat you," he echoed, his voice flat.

  "I used to try to pretty it up," she said. "I'd say or think to myself, 'he lost control,' or 'his anger took over.' I'm not very proud of that."

  Pain crossed Josh's face. "God, Lori." He ran his hand down his face. "I don't know how to talk about this, what the right words are."

  Lori nodded. "Of course you don't. I don't expect you to have the right words."

  "But damn," Josh said, his voice low but vehement. "It makes me want to beg your forgiveness. I want to apologize on behalf of the entire male half of the population."

  Lori nearly smiled. Josh, wanting to take upon his shoulders all the wrongs of the world. Now why wasn't she surprised? "It's not your fault though, Josh. Not any more than it was mine. Sometimes I slip and find I'm blaming myself, but I've known from the first, from the very first blow, that it was David, not me, who was in the wrong."

  Josh sucked in a deep breath. "Tell me about him. As much as I'd like to pretend the bastard doesn't exist, I think I need to know."

  Lori nodded. "But the story starts before I met David … are you sure you won't be bored by the life and times of Lori Hanson?"

  Josh set his coffee mug on the tray and then slid closer to her. He took her mug and set it down, too. Then, still leaving a half-cushion between them, he reached forward and folded one of her hands into his. The warmth of his touch traveled toward her heart. "I think you know Lori Hanson fascinates me," he said. "Her life, her times, her smiles, her tears and everything in between."

  Oh. He was so sweet. He'd hate that word, just as he hated being called nice and cute, but what he didn't understand was that it was those exact qualities that gave her the courage to get close to him. The desire to get over her fears. They were qualities that described a heart, a heart that was decent and good. Boy Scout stuff, maybe. But Lori had never considered Boy Scouts sexy, and Josh was that, too.

  "Lori?" Josh ran his thumb across her knuckles. "You okay?"

  "Yes," she said. "Or at least I hope I will be."

  "So." Josh gently smiled at her. "Tell me about the day you were born."

  She shook her head. "We don't have to go quite that far back. Though I was born and grew up in Dicken, South Carolina, and that is important."

  "Okay. Beautiful Southern girl grows up in Dicken, South Carolina. Then…?"

  "Then girl goes to college, studies business, listens to loud music, hangs out with her friends. Not necessarily in that order, by the way."

  Josh's lips twitched. "Typical college kid. Now what?"

  "My senior year, my mother sold our little house in Dicken and moved to a new town and a new condominium complex in the northern part of the state." Lori looked down. "Shortly after I graduated, we found out she had cancer and only a little time to live."

  Josh squeezed her hand. "Goodbye carefree college days."

  She nodded. "Yes. I left everything behind, my hometown, my college friends and moved in with my mother. I took care of her and we had a few last months together." That's when Lori had found out about Whitehorn and Melissa. Though the stories hadn't meant much to her at the time, as focused as she was on her mother's illness and her own imminent loss.

  Lori looked down at her hand, engulfed in Josh's bigger one. "David Post had the condo next door to my mother's. He was charming, sympathetic. He did little things that wooed us both, like hunting down a video of an old movie my mother mentioned, then delivering it with flowers and dinner from our favorite take-out place. That's one of the hardest parts…"

  "What is?"

  She met Josh's gaze. "Not knowing if that was the real David or not. Was that part an act? Did he truly care for my mother? Did he really ever fall in love with me?"

  "What do you think?"

  Lori shrugged. "I'm still not sure. It felt real at the time, but I was vulnerable. We didn't know anyone in town but the oncologist and David. I didn't spend time with anyone but my mother, who was dying, and David. We married the last month of my mother's life, standing in her bedroom right at the foot of her bed. The only thing I now feel certain about is that at that moment my mother was happy. Sometimes just that makes the rest of it all right."

  Josh's expression looked grim, but his voice was even. "What was the 'rest' of it?"

  Lori took in a long breath. "Those first few months are hazy. My mother died and I was occupied with settling her affairs, selling her condo, going through her things. David seemed as charming as ever. He's an accountant and his job had stressful times, but then…"

  "But then?" Josh prompted.

  "I don't know what happened." Lori shook her head. "I have no idea if something triggered his suddenly explosive temper, or if he'd been covering it up all the other months. But it was a short, fast slide from shouting to throwing things to finally—" She broke off, mad at herself for stopping, but unable to say it. "You know."

  "He hi—"

  "No!" All at once, she hated the words coming out of Josh's mouth. All at once, she hated Josh painting a mental picture of what David had done to her. She jerked her fingers from Josh's grasp and covered her face with her hands. "I've changed my mind. I don't want you knowing about this."

  "But I already know, Lori," he said. "And I don't think any less of you. On the contrary, I—"

  "It only happened twice before I left him." If she kept her eyes squeezed shut, then maybe she could get through some of this. A rusty laugh came out of her throat. "'Only' twice. I can't believe I just said that."

  Josh didn't say a word, but even with her eyes shut, Lori could feel him beside her. Emotions vibrated off him – outrage, sympathy, she didn't know them all.

  "The first time," Lori said, forcing herself to continue, "I was so shocked that I just stood there. He slapped me across the face, then punched me. My lip split and one eye turned black. The sight of my blood seemed to sap his anger. He cried. He begged my forgiveness. He brought me ice, he went out and came home with flowers and a filet mignon to put on my eye."

  Lori's stomach clenched, remembering. "What was I supposed to do? This was the same man who had stood by my mother's deathbed and married me. The same man who had stood beside her grave when we buried her. Of course I'd read about battering, about domestic violence, but that wasn't what was happening to me."

  Josh's voice was tight. "And then?"

  "And then." Lori paused. "And then came the second incident, about a month later. I just stood there then too, taking it again. But this time, this time while he was hitting me I was thinking, planning, waiting for his anger to leave … so that I could." She opened her eyes. "He went out for flowers and filet mignon again, and I went to the police."

  Josh was so quiet, that she finally had to look at him.

  He was still, his body, his face, frozen. Only his eyes seemed alive and their gaze was trained on her face. "Lori, I—" he started, then broke off.

  There was more to her story, but Lori didn't think she could continue without knowing what Josh was thinking. He'd said she fascinated him. She knew he was a decent, good man. But maybe she disgusted him now, with her dirty secret out, polluting the clean air of Montana. "Tell
me what you're thinking, Josh," she said. "I can take the truth."

  "What I can't take…" he said hoarsely, "What I need is to touch you, Lori. I can't take hearing that without taking you in my arms."

  Oh. Lori felt the sting of tears in her eyes, she felt the tug at her heart. She thought she might die of the bittersweet ache of it when he held open his arms.

  "I won't close them around you, honey," Josh said. "But if you would just get close to me I might be able to breathe again."

  She surprised herself. Instead of hesitating, instead of having to make herself edge toward Josh, she found that she wanted to be near him too. Not in a sexual way – Josh had already proved that he could lure her with kisses – but she wanted to be near him for comfort.

  To receive comfort.

  No, she thought, amazed. As she laid her cheek against his chest and felt his heart beating against her ear, she realized she didn't need comfort. She wanted to give it. Not that Josh thought he needed it, she'd put money on that, but it felt so good – so decent, so nice, so sweet, so normal – to want to give a man something for the first time in a long, long while.

  True to his word, Josh didn't put his arms around her. But she embraced him. She slid her arms around him and held on to this big, strong builder who had come into her life and knocked down so many of her walls.

  One of his hands lightly stroked her hair. "Where do we go from here?" he asked.

  Lori swallowed. He wanted to go somewhere from here? The thought infused her blood like caffeine, like a shot of liquor. Her reaction was so quick, so hot and dizzying, that she realized she'd been testing him.

  The truth of it shamed her. "I don't know," she said, looking up at him. "I didn't think that far ahead. I didn't think you would … I thought…"

  One of his eyebrows lifted. "You thought I would turn tail and run now that I know the full story?"

  A pang of guilt pierced Lori. He didn't know the full story. "Josh—"

  "I'm beginning to think you have a very low opinion of me," he said lightly.

  She shook her head. "You know I don't."

  "'Nice?' 'Cute?' And now 'coward'?" There was just the barest hint of humor in his eyes. His hand stroked her hair again, and the humor died, replaced by something far more serious. "Lori, I don't know what's happening here. But I do know I'm not running away from you. I hope you don't want to run away from me."

  "I don't know what to say." She didn't.

  "Say that you won't try to shut this – us – down. That you'll be open to what may happen between us."

  "But I don't know how long—"

  "I'm patient." He grinned. "And I'm devious. I know how you like to be kissed now. I also know how fast we both go up in flames. Don't think I won't find ways to remind you of that."

  Lori's pulse started pounding, dizzying her brain. She sat away from him. "I can't guarantee anything, Josh."

  "I'm not asking for guarantees." He rose off the sofa and held out one of his hands. "Except that you'll be at work on Monday morning."

  Swallowing, she found herself putting her palm against his. He drew her to her feet. "We'll work things out, honey, however that may be," he said.

  The words sounded reasonable. Do-able. But as Josh walked her out to her car, Lori still peered anxiously into the darkness.

  He opened her car door for her. As she slid in, he smiled, so big and confident. So strong. So darn gorgeous. "We'll take it slow," he said, then shut the door.

  Lori locked it. Slow, Josh said. A chill slid down her spine. She only hoped they had that kind of time.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  By the time Lori was driving to work on Monday morning, she'd half-convinced herself that the erotic interlude at Josh's house was just a dream. She didn't know what to think about the information they had exchanged Friday night or his idea that they should be open to what was happening between them.

  He hadn't called, though.

  After her workout in the gym on Sunday morning, she'd found herself leaping to the ringing phone in eagerness, only to sigh in surprising disappointment to find Melissa on the other end of the line. Melissa was putting together an impromptu wedding shower Tuesday night for Darcy Montague, one of the women who'd shared their table on New Year's Eve. Would Lori like to attend?

  Glad to have something to think about besides Josh, she'd accepted, only to find herself mooning about him later that afternoon as she searched the small stores in Whitehorn for an appropriate gift for a bride. In a small boutique she'd stumbled upon a treasure trove of lacy nightwear.

  Instead of focusing on what would suit Darcy's taste, Lori found herself examining each frilly piece and wondering what Josh would think.

  Of Lori wearing it.

  Holding a diaphanous, white baby-doll set in one hand and a sophisticated black lace teddy in the other, Lori imagined Josh's face as she modeled one, then the next. Her face heated at the mental picture, but excitement rushed through her all the same. Sexual excitement, yes, but also the thrill of feeling alive, young, feminine.

  After years of looking over her shoulder, after years of sweating out her fears in the gym, training for an encounter with a man, it was good – okay, it was wonderful! – to dream about an entirely different sort of encounter altogether.

  She hadn't denied herself the fantasy, but as she let herself into the office Monday, her stomach knotted. Maybe Josh regretted knowing what he did about her. Maybe Josh had reconsidered wanting to nurture the sparks that flew between them.

  But when she reached her desk, she decided he hadn't. Though he'd penned a businesslike note stating he'd be out of the office until the afternoon, he made it quite clear he was thinking about her.

  Josh had left her kisses.

  Chocolate kisses.

  One held down each corner of the note.

  There were three at the bottom of her mug, sitting so innocently on the small counter in the coffee room.

  Another sat precisely over the letter "L" on her computer keyboard.

  While she opened Saturday's mail, she pondered why he'd chosen that particular letter. For Lori? For lust?

  For lo— No!

  The candies kept turning up in the most unlikely places. They lined up like soldiers on the top shelf of the supply cabinet. Others lolled in the half-dozen egg holders in the mini-refrigerator. At lunchtime, when she grabbed the spare set of gloves she left in her desk before going out to her car, more chocolates spilled out of them.

  Staring down at the kisses, glittering like silver treasure across the surface of her desk, Lori couldn't help smiling.

  The front door squeaked open. "Just what I hoped to see."

  Josh. Her heart jolted, but Lori swallowed back her nervous eagerness. "What?" she said, calmly looking up. "Woman smiling over chocolate?"

  He shook his head, his shaggy dark hair brushing against the collar of his parka. "Woman smiling is enough for me." The door clattered shut behind him, and he approached her, bringing with him the smell of cold air, sawdust and a maleness that was Josh's alone, a scent that she remembered from being so much closer to him.

  He halted on the other side of her desk, studying her. There were questions in his dark-lashed, dark eyes. Questions and concern. "You good?"

  "Good?" Lori tasted the word, tried it out in her head. Good implied … so many things. Good implied … exactly how she felt. She smiled again, this time at Josh. "Yes. I'm very good."

  He nodded, as if more than satisfied with her answer.

  "Thank you," she said, her hand indicating the candy strewn across her desk. "for all this."

  He gave her a sheepish grin. "Don't thank me. I bought them yesterday, a fundraiser for the Whitehorn High School marching band."

  Lori laughed. He charmed her so easily. "Don't tell me, the drum majorette stopped by in full uniform."

  Josh shook his head, smiling. "A lowly trumpeter. Male."

  "Ah."

  "I went t
o high school with his mother, though." Josh's eyebrows wagged. "Now she could make batons flame, let me tell you."

  Lori laughed again. "I think I'm jealous."

  Josh's face turned serious, going from charmingly boyish to rugged, lethal manliness. "You have no reason to be. I thought about you all weekend, Lori. About how you make me burn."

  Lori's pulse jumped and her face heated. Unsure what to say, she looked back down at her desk and started scooping the strewn candy into a pile of silver.

  "But don't worry," he said. His hand reached out, stole a kiss. "I told you I was patient." Whistling a soft melody, he moved off to his office.

  Lori listened to the carefree sound. She picked up a candy, unwrapped it, let the chocolate melt on her tongue. But her pulse didn't slow. She could still smell Josh. She could smell the delicious scent of him mixed with the decadent fragrance of chocolate mixed with an unmistakable smell, like sulfur, that was sensual sparks ready to explode into fire.

  So he was patient. Great, Lori thought, her pulse still throbbing, the thick taste of chocolate only partly satisfying. What if she found out she wasn't?

  * * *

  The next day wasn't any better than the one before. Josh moved confidently about, never seeming the least affected by her presence. Lori, on the other hand, made up excuses to go into his office. She brought him coffee, making sure her fingertips brushed his on the exchange. She even found herself watching him drink it, her gaze focused on his mouth touching the heated ceramic rim of the mug.

  When she dropped her pencil on purpose, just to watch him bend over in those worn jeans of his to grab it for her, she declared herself shameless.

  Now if she only had the guts to tell him.

  She attended Darcy Montague's wedding shower Tuesday night after work, relieved to have something else to think about. The restaurant at the Whitehorn Country Club, usually open only on weekends in the winter, was staying open Tuesdays through Saturdays until the Hip Hop resumed its business.

  The party was taking place in the club's small banquet room, and, as Lori walked toward it, she noted the almost-full regular dining room and that the small bar was doing quite a business as well. But it was the female laughter drifting out of the banquet room's half-opened French doors that drew her.