My Dad's Boss(4)

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"Hi, thanks for coming," I said for the billionth time. "You can put  your presents on the table. And please, help yourself to a drink." My  dad was playing bartender, definitely in his element. Not that he knew a  ton about mixing drinks, but he loved making small talk and catching up  with friends and coworkers. Despite his prickly attitude earlier.

There were at least twenty people here already, and I could see more  cars driving up and down the street, looking for a place to park. We had  lots of room, though. The living room was spacious, and a half dozen  women were in the kitchen "helping" my mother though it looked to me  like all they were really doing was gossiping and drinking. And then  there was a huge deck out back that spanned the entire length of the  back of the house then continued around one side. It was a little warm  back there, but nice nonetheless. Florida backyards were usually  pleasant places if you put the work into keeping the plants trimmed back  as my parents did. Otherwise, a small row of plants one year would  spread over half the yard the next.         

     



 

When most everyone was there, my parents welcomed everyone. Their best  man from their wedding made a toast, and several other people spoke.  Mom's best friend spoke about how much she admired my parents' marriage,  and then she called on me. "Perhaps Gwen and Robert's lovely daughter  could say a few words?"

Mom looked at me, her eyes shining, but I smiled and shook my head.  Still, since all eyes were on me, I moved away from my position by the  door and walked toward them. "I've got something prepared-but it's for  after dinner."

Mom hugged me. "She's been working on whatever it is for over a month," she told her guests. "Please, can we see it now, honey?"

"Nope. You'll just have to wait a bit long-" and then my breath caught  in my throat. The front door had just opened, and a man had walked in. A  tall man, with tousled brown hair and riveting hazel eyes that sparkled  even at this distance. A man I'd last seen a few days ago. He was here,  at my parent's anniversary party. In our house.

A few people called out greetings, but I just stared at him in shock.  What was he doing here? He was holding a small present wrapped in silver  paper which he deposited on the table by the door. When he moved into  the living room, I could tell the exact moment he saw me, because he  stopped dead, freezing mid step.

Mom put her arm around me as she called out to him. "Nick, come on in.  You're just in time-we're about to eat. Make yourself at home."

Nick. As in Nick Conner, the new principal of Sago Palm High School.

Holy crap. The devastatingly hot stranger from the other day was my dad's boss.





Chapter Four





I STOOD ON the wrap-around deck, out of sight of the guests, wondering  if he'd follow me out here. If he didn't, then I didn't have anything to  worry about. Perhaps he didn't even think our earlier meeting was  worthy of mention. But somehow I hoped that wasn't the case. Even if all  we said was that it would be best to ignore what happened in the  coffeehouse, I still hoped to talk to him in private. So I waited,  sipping my drink and watching the sunset.

Finally, I heard footsteps behind me, turning the corner from the main  part of the deck behind the house. Too late, I realized that he-or  whoever this was-would see my backside first, since I was leaning over  the railing, looking out. But maybe that was okay. When I closed my  eyes, I could still feel his large, strong hand on my ass, caressing,  squeezing. That one touch had been hotter than any I'd received in  months of dating.

I could feel eyes on my back, so I straightened and turned. It was him.  Seeing him up close made my heart skip a beat. He was even  better-looking than I remembered, especially now that he was dressed up.  He wore a black suit coat over a crisp white button-down shirt that was  open at the collar. He had on black jeans and boots, not dress shoes.  Except for the boots, he was dressed like half the men here tonight, but  on him, it was sexy. And hot as hell.

He was holding a long-neck beer, and there was a gleam in his blue eyes  as he raised it, gesturing toward my glass. "Let me guess," he said.  "Thin Mint Frappuccino."

I laughed, but part of me was absurdly pleased that he'd remembered.  Raising my glass up the same way he did, I smiled and then took a sip.  "White wine," I said. "My parents said I could have one glass."

Then I groaned inwardly. Why had I mentioned my parents? In one  sentence, I'd managed to make myself sound like a complete baby-too  young to drink and talking about mommy and daddy.

He smiled, but it looked like he was little uncomfortable at my mentioning them, too. How stupid of me.

"So …  you used to be a Sago Palm student?" He tilted his head at me in a way I couldn't quite interpret.

"Yep. And you're the principal now. I gotta say, you're a definite  improvement over old Mrs. Wrong." Yes, her name had been Mrs. Wright,  but that's not what students had called her. They'd had a lot of  creative names for her. ‘Mrs. Wrong' was the least offensive.

"How do you know? I can't imagine you've gotten glowing reviews from your father."

So he knew how my dad felt about him. Interesting. It hadn't stopped him  from coming here or treating my father like a valued employee tonight.  He'd brought a gift and been a gracious guest.

"Well, first off, anyone would be. But secondly, I just have a hunch."

"Well, I'd like to think that your hunch is correct. But it's been a bit  of a tough year. How was your first year at the university?"         

     



 

"Second," I said. "I'll be a junior this fall."

"That makes me feel a little better," he said, almost under his breath.

"About what?" I took a step closer to him, suddenly curious about why he was avoiding my gaze.

"About that day at the coffee shop."

"But we didn't do anything. Just a little flirting." Mostly.

Now he did look up at me, leaning back against the rail and folding his  arms across his broad chest. "I don't make it a habit of flirting with  young women just a few years older than the students at my high school."

"I'm not usually much of a flirt, either. But you helped me out when Brad showed up. A lot. What's wrong with that?"

He cocked an eyebrow at me and broke into a crooked grin. "How about the part where I grabbed your ass?"

Oh. I felt my face flush. "Well, it made the act more convincing."

He continued to grin but glanced around, as if to reassure himself that  we weren't within earshot of anyone else. "Yes, it did. But since that  time …  I've found myself thinking about it more than once. Remembering  how …  convincing it was. And I wouldn't have done that if I'd known you  were Robert's daughter."

My breath caught. I'd thought about him every night-hell, practically  every hour-since then. Had he really been thinking about me, too? That  idea filled me with warm shivers. It was rather ballsy of him to admit  it, though. I admired him for that. The guys I'd tried to date in the  past year had been so timid. Not about some things; they were all too  happy to try to kiss me or feel me up. But that was all the initiative  they showed. None had taken me on an interesting date. None had engaged  me in witty, flirty banter like the men I read about in the steamy  romance e-books I devoured. None had been real men like the one standing  in front of me.

If he could be straightforward, then so could I. "Maybe it's good you didn't know, then."

His other eyebrow rose up to join the first. "Aren't you supposed to be  pissed that I was having less than pure thoughts about you?"

"If I were, it would be pretty hypocritical of me."

"Why's that?" His voice was low and husky, or maybe it was just my  hormones interpreting it that way. But he'd taken another step toward  me. That couldn't be my imagination. And when he moved still closer, I  set my glass on the rail behind me, my heart rate tripling.

I had to tilt my head up now that he was nearer. Being close to his  tall, well-muscled figure made me feel tiny by comparison. My curves and  lines unsubstantial compared to the space he took up on the deck. And I  was suddenly aware of how little I had on. Just the slinky red dress  and panties underneath it. Not even a bra-it would have shown under the  thin straps.

"I, uhhh … " I cleared my throat and tried again. "I may have thought of you a time or two, also."

"May have?" He was giving me this intense look that made me want to tell  him all my secrets. It was just something about those light hazel eyes  that seemed to look inside me.

"Okay, I did," I admitted. The way he got that out of me so easily, I  was really glad he didn't know that after our encounter the other day,  I'd loaded my e-reader with sexy stories about older men and younger  women.