The Boss Project

“What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Four.”

He nodded. “As long as she gets out Monday, I’ll probably come home by the end of the week. I contacted a skilled nursing company. I just hope she lets them in when I make the arrangements.”

“Oh, that reminds me. When I stepped out of Kitty’s hospital room to go to the ladies’ room, one of the doctors talked to me about some equipment that might help her at home, at least until her cast comes off. I didn’t mention it in front of Kitty because I figured you might want to ask for forgiveness, rather than permission. I have a brochure for the company in my purse.”

“Which one?” Merrick asked.

“Well, there’s a chair that looks like a recliner, but it tips forward to help the person stand. And there’s also a motorized base for under her mattress that can help her get up with less struggle.”

“No. I didn’t mean which equipment. I meant which doctor approached you?”

“Her doctor, Dr. Martin.”

Merrick frowned. “Did he write his number on the back of the brochure?”

“Jealous much?”

“My grandmother was trying to goad me by setting the two of you up.”

“And…did it work?” I didn’t realize I’d bitten down on my bottom lip until Merrick’s eyes fell. He groaned and shook his head.

“Of course it did. I’m jealous of your damn teeth right now—and that little shit whose tooth you chipped, too.”

I snort-laughed. The alcohol was definitely starting to go to my head, but I loved that Merrick and I could talk this way.

We stayed on the porch for hours after that, rocking and laughing, all while sipping spiked tea from Waffle House mugs. At midnight, I still wasn’t ready to call it a night, but it started to drizzle, and the warm breeze blew it into our faces.

I took off my wet glasses and wiped them dry with my shirt.

“You ready to go in?” Merrick said.

The truth was, the longer I spent with him, the more I fell. So while I would’ve been perfectly happy sitting in the rain a little longer, I nodded. “Yeah, I don’t have windshield wipers for my glasses.”

He took my empty mug and his, and together we walked next door. The house was dark and quiet, with only the light from the front porch illuminating the room. Since we’d walked across the grass, our shoes were wet, and we both slipped them off at the front door.

“You going to bed?” Merrick asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, I probably should.”

Merrick shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

In the guest room, I leaned my head against the door. I heard Merrick walking around for a few minutes and then footsteps grew louder as he entered the small hallway just outside my door. The two bedrooms we were sleeping in were separated only by the bathroom, so I expected to hear a door open and close, but instead there was stillness. Had he gone that quietly, or was he standing in the hallway right outside the door, struggling like I was?

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted a man as much as I did Merrick. It made me feel like Christian had done me a favor. He and I had been perfect on paper—compatible and goal oriented. We got along well enough before everything blew up. But I’d never realized what was missing until now: passion. I felt heat in my belly when I was near Merrick—whether that was arguing our views or tracing the broadness of his shoulders when he wasn’t paying attention. Deep down, I knew what the problem was. Sure, he was my boss and I’d made that mistake before, so it would be stupid of me to go there, but that wasn’t the reason I’d been keeping him at arm’s length. The real reason was that the feelings he ignited in me scared me. I’d kept away from anything that caused highs and lows for all of my adult life, preferring to sail smoothly down comfortable lane. With my past, you didn’t have to be a therapist to understand why I’d take that route.

I was afraid of passion. My parents had it. They’d swung from crazy in love to him abusing her. It was like a pendulum that never stopped. So I’d sought the metronome of relationships—one steady beat that never got out of sync.

Outside in the hallway, things were still quiet. I started to think I just hadn’t heard Merrick go into his room—until I heard movement outside my door. I held my breath as my heart raced, expecting him to knock. But then the footsteps fell away. When the other bedroom door finally clanked open and closed, I let out a disappointed breath.

It’s better this way.

At least that’s what I told myself as I got ready for bed and slipped under the covers. But when I shut my eyes, my thoughts went in the opposite direction. I wanted Merrick in the worst way. I wanted him to bite my lip and be jealous. I wanted the fire I saw in his eyes to come alive in his touch. Forget the romance—brushing my hair behind my ear, the sweet things he said to me—I wanted the man to lift me over his shoulder and drag me to his bed like a damn caveman.

The vision of that in my head caused a thin sheen of sweat on my forehead. I was never going to fall asleep with every muscle in my body knotted in a tight ball of lust. Frustrated, I stared up at the ceiling for a long time.

I knew what I needed to do to fall asleep. But Merrick’s room was only eight feet away down the hall.