Stuck with My Grumpy Boss (Cruisin’ With Curves)

4. Brock

CHAPTER 4

brOCK

I ’m not sure if it's the sea air, or maybe the effect Emma has on me, but I feel lighter and more relaxed than I have in years. Oh, who am I kidding. It’s Emma. Her presence makes everything more enjoyable. But I worry about what that means for the future.

She’s my assistant , for Christ’s sake.

And this is a vacation, which by definition is an escape from the everyday.

What happens when we get back to Deepwood Mountain and the real world?

After a delicious lunch at the Golden Sunset Sushi Bar, we make our way to the ice-carving class, an activity I would’ve typically deemed pointless. It’s just a block of frozen water. But Emma's enthusiasm is infectious and makes me willing to give it a shot.

The classroom’s cold, a space low in the ship’s hold, near the kitchen coolers. It’s a refreshing contrast to the hot sun outside, but if Emma’s nipples get any pointier under that fitted shirt, I’m going to rip all my hair out. She’s driving me crazy. I’ve never in my life been so grateful as I am for the smocks the instructor hands out. We also get thick gloves, and as I pick up the ice chisel, I feel a bit like a kid again, out in our house’s snowy yard back in Deepwood Mountain. Emma stands beside me, her eyes sparkling and eager.

"Ready to create a masterpiece?" she teases, her voice echoing in the chilled room.

"I'm more of a Michelangelo with stone," I reply, gruffly. Then I wink. "Ice might be a different story."

She giggles, and we get to work, chipping away at the blocks of ice in front of us. I keep stealing glances at her, watching her delicate features tightening with concentration. Ugh, I wish I was good enough to sculpt her .

"Need some help there, Donovan?" she asks, light and playful, as she catches me pausing to observe her.

"I might," I admit, feeling a warmth spreading through my chest. "But honestly, I think this is one battle you'll win."

In the end, her sculpture of a dolphin leaping from the waves does indeed far surpass my crude attempt at a snowman. But the joy I feel creating it, and even more when I see her delightful smile, makes my competitive streak recede into the background.

From there, we venture into the bright, lively casino, the polar opposite of the quiet ice-carving studio. The ping and whir of slot machines fills the air, together with occasional cheers from the gaming tables.

"Go ahead, Brock," Emma challenges, holding a chip over the roulette table. "Pick a number."

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. "Oh, no. All you, lucky lady."

She bites her lip, thinking, before placing her chip on black 13. "Feeling kinda wicked," she whispers, her green eyes meeting mine, a mischievous glint in their depths. My cock jumps.

The croupier sets the ball spinning on the wheel, and then it slows, finally coming to settle with a gentle click on her chosen number. She jumps up and into my arms, hugging me tightly, her laughter light and carefree.

"The universe seems to be on your side," I tease, my heart racing at the feeling of her body against mine. I let her slide down my front, hoping she doesn’t notice the bulge in my pants. She just smiles, excited by her win.

We spend the next hour testing our luck, ending up more or less even. The thrill of the gaming, combined with the electric current passing through me from having Emma at my side, has me feeling alive.

“Ready for that swim, Brock? I could really use a cool-down,” Emma says as we get back to the room.

I’ll admit, I’d been looking forward to seeing Emma in her swimsuit. But when she emerges from her room, my breath legit catches. She’s gorgeous, her curves on display in a bright pink string bikini, her long blonde hair tied up and out of her face, except for a few loose strands hanging down.

I can’t believe this woman is with me.

"You’re a knock-out, Emma," I manage to say, my throat suddenly dry.

She flashes me a heart-stopping smile, her cheeks the same color as her suit. “Thanks…Boss.”

Ugh. Don’t remind me .

We reach the infinity pool and find an empty cabana, then spray sunscreen on ourselves and head into the water. All eyes are on Emma, and I find myself glaring back at every man who dares to look at her. Sharks come in all sizes.

We dive into the cool, crystal blue water, and explore the far corners of the pool. It feels wonderful after our long day. We splash and laugh like teenagers, play games, and I even teach her a few swimming techniques I picked up in the military.

We float side by side in the water, and a sense of peace settles over me. This vacation is turning out to be a much-needed respite, and it’s all because of Emma.

She’s becoming more than my assistant; she’s a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, a breath of fresh air that gives me hope. Hope for what exactly, I don’t know. But I love the feeling, that’s for sure.

“How about a drink? I want to check out that swim-up bar.”

She nods and we paddle over to perch on the underwater stools.

“What can I get ya?” the bartender asks me and Emma, polishing a highball glass with a towel.

“I’ll take a Pina Colada, please. And he’ll have a Scotch on the ro?—”

She instantly stops herself, flushing. “Oh… I’m sorry, Brock. Old habits.”

The bartender eyes me with an amused look. “The lady knows what you like. Scotch on the rocks, then?”

“She does indeed. But you know what? Let’s try something different today. Let’s do an Old Fashioned.”

“Coming right up,” the bartender replies, and gets to work.

“I feel so silly for that,” she says glumly, swirling the pool water with her fingers.

“Nonsense. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

She blinks. “I… I am?”

“Yes… I know I don’t give you much feedback?—”

Her sweet eyes begin to fill with tears. Oh god, what did I say.

“Brock, I’ve always thought you hated me. Until this trip, you barely looked at me or talked to me, and never texted or emailed a kind word. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure you knew my full name.”

“Hated you? Oh, honey.” I pause, knowing full well male bosses shouldn’t be calling their younger female assistants ‘honey’. “I really messed this up, didn’t I?”

She’s still looking unsure.

“I never hated you. My god, Emma, you baked me and my family Christmas cookies your third day on the job! You always go above and beyond. And you’ve managed to organize and coordinate my entire life—both business and personal. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Really.”

She begins to smile, and I reach out to wipe a tear from her cheek with my thumb. How could I have been so cold to such a lovely creature?

“I’m sorry I never said anything or engaged more with you. Ever since my time in the service, I’ve…had some issues with that. It’s no excuse, but please know. It’s not you.”

“Thank you.” She puts her hand over mine, making me I wish I could hold it and never let it go. “I’m glad you told me.”

The bartender sets the drinks down in front of us. “Here you go! And the name on the account?”

“Donovan, Penthouse Suite,” Brock answers. “Thanks, man.”

Emma takes her hand away and god, I miss it.

We sip our drinks, and I ask about her family back in Deepwood Mountain, her hopes and dreams. She tells me about her desire to be more involved in my business, to lighten the burden on my shoulders. I’m touched by her willingness to help.

"I just can’t imagine you really like being this busy," she says, her brows drawing together. "It means sacrificing time to do other things you might enjoy."

I think back to the pleasure I felt doing all those activities together earlier today. Consider the time I’ve missed with my family. "I do enjoy keeping my mind occupied," I admit. "It leaves less room for...distractions. But…"

She studies me for a moment, eyes searching. "I'd really love to help out more. Take on more responsibility, and give you some breathing room."

The last thing I need is breathing room. At the same time, I’d like to give Emma a chance. She deserves it. "I think that can be arranged. Starting with the new office complex in Billings, how’s that?"

Her pretty eyes light up. "Really?" She sets her drink down and hugs me tight. “Thank you!”

I squeeze her back, savoring the feel of her body against mine. The swell of her soft breasts against my chest, her wet skin. God, I want so much more of this woman.

"You know, Brock, when I imagined working for you, I never thought it would lead to something like this," she says, her voice soft, her eyes flicking to my lips before meeting mine. "I'm really enjoying myself on this cruise with you."

My pulse quickens. It would be so easy to kiss her right now. But I know I must tread carefully given our professional relationship, even as my heart whispers how much I need her.

So I resist, and just say, "I’m enjoying myself, too. This cruise has been...unexpected. In the best way, of course."

Once we finish our drinks, we head back to my suite and order dinner in. It isn’t long before Emma falls asleep on the couch.

I gather her up in my arms and she sleepily nuzzles my neck as I carry her to her own bed.

"Brock,” she whispers as I lay her down, her breath tickling my neck. “Thank you. For everything." Then she kisses my cheek.

I nod, unable to form a coherent response, my mind reeling. It takes every ounce of my strength not to climb into her bed and devour every delicious inch of her right this second.

"Get some rest, Emma.” I kiss her on the forehead, lingering there a little too long. “We've got a busy day on the island tomorrow."

Then I return to my own room, my entire body aching for her.