The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

She had been so proud of herself last night. Proud because she had borderline flirted with her employer.

How had she become this person? This timid woman, who considered a mild bit of flirting daring. She, who had once lived for her next thrill. Her parents had been so happy when their wild child had settled into her perfect life, with her perfect husband.

Now here she stood listening while Miles’s voice drifted farther away as he headed to the garage with Stormy. He was conversationally telling the dog all about the day he had in store for them, and Charity’s body leaned toward the closing door as she listened to him speak.

She had stepped into the kitchen just as he and Stormy were exiting through the basement door, and she had wavered. Part of her eager to go after them, but the other—terrified—part urging her to stay put and not risk opening herself up even further to him.

He was her boss, he was too disturbingly attractive…He could hurt her. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically.

Let him go.

…

No. Be brave, Charity.

“Do you two have room for one more?”

Miles sucked in a quiet, relieved breath at the sound of the hesitant voice behind him, and he schooled his features into rigid neutrality before turning to face her.

“A-always.” The word stumbled over his suddenly numb tongue as he took in the familiar, yet wholly unfamiliar, sight of the woman who had begun to occupy his every waking thought.

She was wearing a pair of snug, faded jeans and a black and red plaid shirt over a white tank top. She had a down jacket flung over one arm, and her unbound hair was streaming over her shoulders, down her back, to her waist. It was everywhere. A gorgeous curtain of silky, messy tresses. A slouchy red beanie futilely attempted to tame the mass, but all it did was give her a bohemian appeal. She was wearing red gloves and dark brown hiking boots on her feet.

Stormy gave a happy whine at the sight of Charity, and Miles cast a wry look at his dog.

r /> You and me both, girl!

He was so fucking pleased to see her. He yanked open the passenger door before she could change her mind and she offered him a grateful smile before climbing into the cabin.

Miles shut the door behind her and turned away to compose himself. He felt like a teenage boy on his first date, terrified he would do or say something to offend her or scare her off. Or just plain humiliate himself.

He placed Stormy into the doggy booster seat he had purchased—along with a shit ton of other pet paraphernalia—once he had been able to get into town again.

“So where are we headed?” she asked, as he climbed into the driver’s side.

“I thought we could go to the beach in Riversend, close to the river mouth. I hear it’s nice there.”

“Klein Bekkie? It’s very beautiful. You’ve never been?”

“No. Vicki and Hugh have gone a few times, and they always talk about how untamed it is. And how great the surf is. I’ve seen pictures, it looks like a long stretch of beach, perfect for walking. I thought it would be a great place to focus on Stormy’s recall.”

He felt like he was chattering inanely, but she seemed interested.

“What do you mean, her ‘recall’?”

“Getting her to return to me on command. According to the research I’ve done, it’s a fundamental training tool. And important especially in emergencies. I mean, take last night as an example, I would have been able to stop her in her tracks with just a word.”

And if he had, they would not be here this morning. So he couldn’t quite regret Stormy’s embarrassing invasion of her room last night.

“Think she’s ready for that?” Charity cast a doubtful glance over her shoulder at the dog.

“She’s the right age for it. And she’s clever enough to get it pretty quickly.” He didn’t want to sound too smug, but he was sure his dog was a genius.

“I haven’t been to Klein Bekkie in a while,” she said, after a short pause. “It’s quiet during winter—usually just joggers, surfers, and kite surfers around. Oh, and anglers. The fishing is pretty good there. Especially at this time of year. There will probably be some other people walking their dogs as well.”

“Well, she does need to be socialized,” Miles said, with a glance back at the dog. Stormy was staring at them with a huge grin on her endearing face. She was panting with excitement. This was only her third time in a car, but she seemed quite at home in it.

He turned on the ignition and, when the engine roared to life, the Bluetooth sound system immediately synced with his phone and his most recent audiobook blared to breathless life: