Misadventures With My Billionaire Boss (Big Sky Boyfriends #3)

Chapter 3

3

We stood in the quiet of the Cindy's hallway for about five minutes considering our options, not too eager to share our predicament with fellow partygoers. Eventually, we decided to make a run for it. We didn't even say goodbye. Under the circumstances, Cindy would probably understand. Our coats were right there in the den, I had my gift—George the Gnome—under my arm and Sam had his permanently—at least until I tracked down and killed Goldie—attached to me.

We tried to see humor in the fact that neither could slip both arms into our jackets, so we must have looked ridiculous with a them dangling off our shoulders. The only thing more idiotic looking than that was me climbing into the driver's side of Sam’s car, crawling over the center console to get to my seat, one arm stuck out behind me attached to Sam. It wasn't graceful, and definitely not ladylike, and I didn't want to think of the view Sam had of my rear end. The option of having Sam do it instead might have required the fire department come to extricate him, so I performed the acrobatics.

The only perk in this fiasco was that Sam had taken my hand in his once we realized our situation was fairly permanent and had yet to let it go. Who knew something so simple as handholding could be so...intimate? Erotic even. It might be freezing out, but my hand was warm in his.

We were safely tucked into the quiet confines of his car, the heater set to high, the heat seats on. Sam drove since his right wrist was attached to my left. We agreed there was no choice but to leave my car behind and make Goldie pick it up in the morning. She'd gotten us into this mess, the least she could do would be to return my stranded wagon.

It was snowing and extremely dark all around us. Heat started to blast from the vents. The radio pumped out the holiday tunes.

“I've been wanting to ask you something since the first time we met at the office,” Sam said, once we'd left Cindy's neighborhood behind. “But I thought it might be a little forward.”

“Oh?” I asked, a little breathless. A lot curious. I had George the Gnome in my lap and decided to take the Santa hat off it. His smile was broad and frozen in place. I imagined him winking at me and saying, “Go for it!” I carefully set him on the back seat. If any move making was going to occur, I didn't want him leering.

At a stop sign, Sam glanced over at me. “Your place or mine?”

He had the same heated look on his face that I’d seen earlier, when he'd just stopped kissing me. The look that said— more— without any words.

I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the nerves, desire and excitement all clumped there. “I guess you don't have much choice either way,” I replied. We were stuck together, literally, but that didn't mean he wanted to be. Kissing was one thing, but handcuffed together was something else entirely.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

I looked down at our joined hands. The contact felt good. More than good. Warm, safe. But I had to know. “This isn't like last time. You were able to walk away. In fact, you did.”

There was no doubt he knew exactly what I was talking about. Unless he was a complete womanizing jerk, I'd like to think he remembered the kiss in Seattle.

He rubbed his free hand over his jaw. I could tell he was thinking, stalling. “I did walk away,” Sam replied.

All excitement drained from me. It felt like coming down on Christmas morning to see a full stocking hanging from the mantel, then looking inside and finding it stuffed with coal.

“I didn't want to, but I did.” He squeezed my hand and I looked at him. Even in the darkness I could see the paleness of his eyes, the seriousness there. “For you.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out at first. “You walked away…for me?” I repeated, completely confused.

Sam nodded his head. “Emma, you have no idea, do you?”

His eyes searched over my face seeking something. What, I didn't know.

I just shrugged, so he continued. “You were up for promotion. I knew it because I was your boss. But I didn't want you thinking you got it because you'd slept with me.”

Headlights glared brightly behind us. We'd completely forgotten we were stopped at an intersection. It was late, the roads were quiet, but we were definitely in the way. Sam headed toward town.

I sat there, staring out my side window, the holiday lights on houses a blur as I thought about his words. He had wanted me after all! The coal might have been in the stocking, but there was a big gift from Santa under the tree. Phew. I felt better. Confused, but better. “You wanted to sleep with me?”

Sam darted a glance at me, both hands firmly on the wheel. “If you weren’t able to tell, I wasn’t doing it right,” he grumbled. “And it's not just past tense.”

“Oh,” I whispered. He wanted me. Now.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I wondered. “All of this. The wanting, the walking away. The reason.”

“I thought I just did.” He laughed. “Okay, I'll try to make it a little more obvious.” We pulled up to a red light and Sam turned to look at me. This time I was pinned in place by the seriousness of his gaze. He moved our entwined hands to his lap, the chain of the handcuffs rattling. “That's not a gift in my pocket, but you can definitely unwrap it later.”

I whimpered. I actually whimpered . Who wouldn't? I felt all of his very large manliness beneath my palm, and I had no doubt. He wanted me. Right now.

The light changed to green. I stayed quiet because I was a little afraid of my feelings for Sam. We didn't know each other that well, and we hadn't even seen each other for a long time. Regardless, I felt like I knew him. As if the months apart fell away, as if I'd known him forever.

Sam moved our hands to my thigh and left them there until we pulled up in front of a small house downtown, which I assumed was his. We were north of Main Street, only a few blocks from the fairgrounds. There were no holiday lights up, but a lamp shone warmly in the front window.

“Since you didn't answer, I picked my place. I hope that's okay,” he said.

“Sure,” I replied. “I would've understood, you know, if you'd just told me. That night, in the elevator, you could have explained. I'd like to think I would have understood.”

“What, having my tongue down your throat one minute and then gone the next?” Sam's lip turned up at the corner.

I smiled, too. “Something like that. I've just always wondered. Thought the worst.” I put my free hand on top of his, making a hand sandwich.

“The worst is knowing the person you're kissing is going to hate you. I've spent all this time wanting to tell you, but I was sworn to confidentiality. Then, walking past you at work before I left, knowing you thought I was scum?—”

“Not scum, exactly.”

Sam smiled. “I'm sure you've come up with lots of words for me.”

I pretended to consider. “A few.”

He lifted his hand to run gently over my hair. “I quit. To be with you.”

My mouth fell open. “What?”

Sam leaned in, his mouth hovering over mine, looking at me so closely, and whispered, “I want you, Em. I've always wanted you. I signed papers, legal papers that kept me from being with you if we worked together. So I quit. I made sure nothing could stand in my way.”

He didn't lower his mouth to mine. He didn't have to. I stretched up so our mouths met in a kiss filled with desperation, with yearning to make up for all the months we'd lost.

This kiss, as the coldness seeped back into the car, was like none other. And I wanted more. “You've got me,” I said, breathless. I lifted our joined hands and we both couldn't help but laugh.