He had no doubt he could do the job. It wasn’t that he was having a sudden attack of inadequacy fears, rather he knew he should have been a bit more adult about his decision to leave everything he knew in Wyoming to start fresh in a town where he knew no one and felt even more isolated than ever.
Wyoming had been good to him until it wasn’t, taking the one thing from him that he’d loved the most—his son.
The sound of the door opening and the wind whistling through the open doorway caused him to pause midsentence and turn.
It was then that any misgivings he’d had about taking the job coalesced into a big ball of certainty. It was her—of all the people who could’ve walked through that door in this little fishing town, why did it have to be her? He couldn’t believe his dumb luck—some might even say it was painfully ironic but he was in no mood to appreciate the wry humor—but there she was in all her glory, only this time...she was clothed and in a fish-and-game uniform.
He swallowed and hoped his shock wasn’t plainly evident to his entire team as he stared at the woman he’d buried himself in several times only twelve short hours ago.
And he didn’t even know her name. Hadn’t that been the stipulation she’d set? And he’d been only too happy to play along. Of all the stupid moves...
Their stares collided, a combination of dismayed surprise and horror, as both processed the reality of the situation. Yeah, talk about awkward. It was his first day, and he’d already slept with an employee. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t known; all that mattered was that now they had history and it was likely to become even more complicated, which was the worst way to kick off a fresh start.
“Everything all right, Miranda?” asked a woman named Mary Calhoun, who had introduced herself the minute he’d crossed the threshold. “We were starting to worry. Is Talen okay? Did he catch that flu bug that’s going around? It’s not like you to be late.”
Miranda. Her name was Miranda. And who was Talen? He rolled her name around in his mind. It fit her—strong, bold and every bit as fierce as he suspected her personality was. Damn, if she wasn’t as beautiful in the morning as she was in moonlight. Definitely not the way he wanted to start their professional relationship. There were too many images in his head of her naked in the throes of passion to shake free. How the hell was he supposed to act? He was on unprecedented ground and he hated it.
“I overslept,” she murmured, edging her way past him as she took her place among her peers. He didn’t miss how her gaze seemed to skitter around the room, content to rest on anything but his own gaze. Not that he blamed her—if he weren’t the boss he probably would have done an about-face the minute he realized who she was. But that wasn’t the case and they didn’t have that option. He was here to do a job—there was no turning back for him—and so he had to make the best of it, which meant dealing with the fact that he’d inadvertently slept with one of his employees. They were both adults, and they would just have to handle it like adults.
“My name is Jeremiah Burke, and I’m your new director. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held his hand out for a cordial shake as if he hadn’t been holding her in his arms a mere four hours ago. She stared at his hand as if it were a snake that might bite her but, realizing that to refuse his polite gesture would raise unnecessary questions, she relented and offered her hand. As his hand closed around the warmth of her skin images of their time together immediately assaulted his brain.
He fixed a polite smile on his face even as his mind wreaked havoc on his ability to stay focused. There was no denying she was beautiful but it wasn’t as if she was the first beautiful woman he’d ever run across. There was something about her, though, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he’d already slept with her, that frankly messed with his ability to think straight. He refocused with effort. “I was just making introductions to the team when you came in. I’ll do a quick recap for you. I’m from Wyoming. I’m used to cold weather. I love the snow, although I’m not a huge fan of fish and that might be my undoing.”
“You just haven’t had fish properly prepared. Miranda, you ought to give him your smothered halibut and rice recipe,” Mary suggested. “If you weren’t a fan of fish before moving to Homer, you will be soon enough. We have more ways to cook a fish than you can shake a stick at. You’ll learn to love it.”
“I didn’t realize that Homer was such a big halibut outlet. As far as loving fish, I’ll just have to take that on faith because I’m probably the only guy in Wyoming who didn’t enjoy the sport.”