Merry With a Scrooge (The Love Beach Holiday Collection)

7. Vail

Vail

God damn her.

She reads me too well.

Sure, it’s brilliant when it comes to work, but she doesn’t just apply her knowledge and insight to her job.

She applies it to me .

It’s taken a while, but I finally figured out how this woman manipulates me without telling me what to do or outright bullying me into things.

The sad part is I’m not upset by it.

Yes, I’m riled up by it.

But her sneakiness doesn’t agitate me in the way you’d think and getting off on the way my assistant controls me isn’t a good thing.

Neither are the urges I have to push her against my office wall and kiss her. Or throw her down on my desk and fuck her.

Every time my libido threatens to get away from me I’m able to remove myself or Laney from the room and given myself valuable breathing space.

Today she’s chosen to push back.

Okay, fine, she really does need me to look at these numbers, but they aren’t urgent. We’re ahead of schedule on this project—thanks to her—and have time.

I know what she’s doing. Getting me out of my head, taking my mind of my son when in recent days he’s been on it more often than ever.

It’s not helping that she’s out of her chair and standing beside me. Her sweet scent floating around us, filling my nose with a tantalizing tease of where that smell might be coming from—where on her body it might be stronger.

With each passing day my barriers crumble a little more.

They crumble because seven years of unrequited longing is hard to contain.

They crumble because she’s finding her way deeper and deeper under my skin with the simplest of things.

They crumble because deep down I’m over fighting my feelings for her.

Except giving in the way I want to would only cause trouble.

Trouble in the form of a best friend who would kick my ass for fucking his baby sister. Even if she’s a grown woman who knows her own mind and is free to make her own choices.

Trouble because sex and business never mix well.

Trouble because once I have her, even just a kiss, I’ll never let her go no matter who doesn’t like it.

“Vail?”

Snapped from my thoughts I glance up. “What?”

“Are these calculations right or am I missing something?”

“No. They’re right. You’ve taken into account all costs and layered in a ten percent contingency amount based on our previous builds of the same size.”

“So, there’s nothing you want to add?”

I’d like to add something alright. But Laney and I are not a one and one makes two equation that should ever be calculated.

Clearing my throat and forcing thoughts of fucking her on my desk from my head I say, “No. This is good. Go ahead and send them out.”

Glancing at her watch when it beeps, she straightens. “That’s reception. Lunch is here.”

This is one of the simple ways she’s digging deeper under my skin.

She feeds me.

Every meal.

It might not be prepared by her hands, but she orders my lunch every day and has groceries and ready to cook meals delivered weekly to my house.

I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t argued with her over it. I should. I’m a grown man who has taken care of myself for years. Even when Felicity and Kavan lived with me, I took care of meals.

Come to think of it, Felicity did very little of the domestic chores. We had a housekeeper—who I still use once a fortnight—a grocery service I ordered from. Any time my ex organized dinner it was a takeout delivery.

While stuck in my head I missed Laney leaving my office. She’ll be back soon enough. With my lunch. And hers. Although she won’t sit with me to eat. She always heads down a floor and eats with a few of the assistants from that level.

She says it’s so she can keep her ear to the ground and find out if there is anything going on we should know about.

Apparently, my last assistant made it clear to anyone who would listen she didn’t like me.

Most of our employees put it down to my surly attitude of late and ignored her. After the stapler and car incident the number of employees who apologized to me directly for not realizing her comments were red flags they should have brought to their boss’s attention was shocking.

It prompted a word with HR and then a staff meeting that both Easton and Quade joined via video.

I hated having to explain the connection to my private life and would have preferred keeping it private, but with the upcoming lawsuit and media coverage, I needed to reassure everyone on the team I was doing everything I could to keep it from coming into QVE again.

Laney waltzes back into my office, takeout bags in hand, and heads straight for the small table and chairs where I sometimes hold meetings if I don’t need a larger conference room.

I lean back and watch her.

It’s not often I allow myself the pleasure.

The sight of her has my insides vibrating all the time but when I look at her, study her without the filter of who she is to me clouding my view, I see the capable, appealing woman she is.

It won’t be long before some smart man works out what a catch she is and pursues her. There are plenty of eligible bachelors in New York who would be thrilled to date her.

The thought sours my gut, leaving me with no desire to eat, a tight throat and a bitter taste on my tongue.

“Are you eating?”

My gaze snaps to Laney’s. She’s seated at the table, an array of food spread out in front of her.

“You’re eating with me?” I’m equal parts panicked and thrilled by the idea of sharing a meal with her.

Just the two of us.

“Yes.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “Is that a problem?”

“No. No.” I push out of my seat and walk her way. “It’s just not something we’ve done before.”

“I can go.” She starts to gather her food and I do something I’ve never done before.

I put my hand on her skin.

Yes, we’ve touched before. We shook hands. Once.

But this is my whole hand, palm and widespread fingers, wrapped over her forearm.

It’s blistering the way that simple touch heats up my blood.

Raging and hot, my body fires up from head to toe and my pulse beats in my ears like a primal drum.

A rhythm that screams mine .

Swallowing through my constricted throat I bark out. “Stay! It’s fine.”

She eyes me suspiciously and I remove my hand from her in an attempt to cool my jets.

Holy fuck.

My pants are so snug they’re painful and I know if she looked away from my face, looked down, she’d see the evidence of my desire for her.

Twisting to the side slightly, I grab a chair and sit before my erection becomes an awkward focal point between us.

Don’t get me wrong. I’d love for my dick to be the center of her attention, or more accurately, buried inside her.

And now I’m leaking in my pants.

Fuck, this woman.

I can’t believe I’ve made it this long without shoving her against a flat surface and having my way with her.

Or that she’s oblivious to my attraction.

Laney has been the epitome of professional. Barely acknowledged the fact we know each other, that I’ve been in her live for almost two decades.

When we’re here, I’m the boss and she’s my assistant.

It bugs the fuck out of me even though I know it’s the way it should be.

I can’t cross that line no matter how much I want to.

“We’ll work it out.”

Her words make me jolt and I snap my gaze to hers. I have no idea what she’s referring to. “What?”

“Kavan. We’ll work it out.”

I snort. “Right. Because everything we’ve done so far has worked.”

“We’re keeping her from seeing what we’re doing behind the scenes.”

“And what are we doing? You and Chad have barely given me more than surface level details.”

“Because it’s better for you if you aren’t involved in this part of it. You just be ready to see your son.” She eyes me. “Which means shopping for holiday gifts and decorations as well as replacing the furniture in your house.”

“Like fuck I will!” I don’t want anything to remind me more of what I’m missing. The idea of seeing an empty bed. A tree without a child to sneak peeks at the presents beneath it.

“Vail.”

“No!” I shove out of my chair and growl, “Fuck no!” before snatching up my phone and keys from my desk.

I’m in my car—not the beat to shit Aston Martin that remains destroyed in my garage—and pulling into New York midday grid-locked traffic before I have a chance to think about what I’m doing.

Taking my anger out on Laney isn’t going to help.

Running for the situation isn’t either.

And the hollow pit in my stomach isn’t just because I miss my son.

It’s also because I want the woman I just left behind and can’t have her.