Fair Game (36 page)

“You trying to stack the deck with all women, Josie?” Jenkins said over the conference phone.

“Nope.” Josie smiled for her group, which today consisted of Lydia and Walker. Chuck was traveling, Jenkins and Bertrice were on speaker from their respective job sites. “She was simply the best qualified,” Josie added.

Kyle leaned into the speaker. “Her level of experience will allow her to take over some of the more complicated jobs as easily as possible, which I’m sure you’ll all appreciate.”

“I want to thank you all for the overtime and the hard work.” Josie nodded for both Lydia and Walker. “The worst is over.”

“Rah-rah,” Jenkins replied, in his usual laconic style.

They’d discussed bonuses for the department, and Kyle was pushing them through.

“So, let’s get on with today’s business.” She’d e-mailed them the discussion points for the meeting earlier. “Let’s start with you, Jenkins, since I know you’ve got a heavy agenda today.”

Kyle listened. She handled it all efficiently, every point, every problem, every comment. There was no reason for him to attend the staff meetings now. After a month at Castle, he was up to speed. Lydia took detailed notes and e-mailed them to all attendees. Josie kept him informed of any changes or issues that came up during the week. By being here, he was micromanaging. Yet he couldn’t seem to let go.

She smiled, spoke without artifice, came to him when the job required it, asked his opinion, took his advice. She was so damned professional about it all.

He didn’t think she laid awake at night remembering, the way he did. He smelled her all over the house. When he closed his eyes, he felt the texture of her skin, tasted her sweet come. When he jerked off, it was to the image of her on her knees taking his cock deep into her mouth.

And there she sat at the other end of the table, ignoring him unless she needed something from him. As if they’d never shared a damn thing.

It drove him nuts thinking about her fuck buddies, wondering how often she called one of them. Or two of them at once. It made him insane thinking about her sucking another man’s cock, letting another man lick her pussy, take her, fuck her. Jesus. His guts ached most of the damn time. He wanted to howl, but he wouldn’t beg. She’d made it clear. After three weeks, it was even clearer. Josie Tybrook didn’t need him. She was fine going on the way she had before she’d copped a feel off him in a crowded elevator. He would never be the same.

Half an hour after the meeting began, Josie tapped her pencil on the table. “Okay, thanks, Walker. We’re done for today, you guys.” She glanced at the conference phone as if Jenkins and Bertrice could see her, then smiled at her two present employees. “Lydia, if you’d get today’s notes typed up and distributed, that would be great.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Josie had reached stasis with Lydia. There’d been no more incidents that required Human Resources’ intervention, no more tardiness. How Josie accomplished it, Kyle didn’t know. She told him only the things she thought he needed to hear.

Lydia leaned forward and punched off the speakerphone, gathered her notes, and followed Walker out the door.

Kyle found himself alone with Josie. Christ, the things he wanted to do, to say. “I needed to talk to you about the bonuses.” It was a pathetic excuse for spending a few more minutes with her.

She cocked her head. “Yes?”

“Your office would be a better place.” Kyle stood and held out his hand, indicating the door.

“Oh. Sure.” Josie grabbed her yellow pad, pencil, cell phone, and coffee cup.

She needed a refill in the worst way. She absolutely hated being behind closed doors with him. He was so there, so male, so hot, and she was so damn needy where he was concerned.

You’d think after three weeks, she’d have gotten over thinking about him all the time, but no, not her. She knew when he was coming before she saw him, a sixth sense or the fact that he smelled so good, so unique, so different from any other man.

She entered her office, rounded the end of her desk, and sat while he closed the door. Pure torture. He always looked good, but today he was downright hot in a dark blue suit, white shirt, and navy-and-red tie.

Elbows on the desk, she folded her arms. “The bonuses? Is there a problem? I think I wrote up a good case for them.” She wasn’t kissing ass; her people deserved it. Her people. She’d started thinking of them that way instead of as Ernie’s people.

Kyle watched her with those gorgeous blue eyes and got her all jittery. Why did he bother coming to her damn Monday meeting, and why the hell did he need to talk to her in person? They could have done everything on e-mail. Didn’t he have one freaking idea what this was doing to her? He was always watching, judging her, yet he never showed a single emotion.

“Connor has endorsed the bonuses,” he said.

“Oh,” was the only answer she could come up with. He wanted something more, because what he said
definitely
could have been put in an e-mail.

Lydia passed by the office door, making a face of doom at her through the glass side panel. Darn the little eavesdropper, not that the girl could hear through the closed door.

Josie’s cell phone started to vibrate on the desk, and she grabbed it. “Gotta take this.” Yeah, right. She normally didn’t interrupt a meeting by taking calls, unless it was an emergency, because it minimized the person with whom you were dealing. This time, she didn’t even look when she answered. She needed a moment’s respite from Kyle’s steady, assessing gaze.

“Josie Tybrook here.”

“Wanna fuck?”

Good God. Paul, one of her booty buddies. Her gaze flew to Kyle, and her cheeks heated, as if he’d know. “I’m in a meeting right now. Can I call you back?” Then, thinking, trying to make it
sound
like business. “Unless it’s an emergency.”

“It’s an emergency, all right. My cock is so fucking hard and my balls are about to explode. Do a little phone sex with me so I can get off, then come over tonight, okay? Just say yes.”

“I’m sorry, since it’s not an emergency, I’ll really have to call you back when I finish this meeting.”

“Josie,” he whined.

She realized Paul whined a lot. She realized, too, that it irritated her. She couldn’t imagine doing him now. She hadn’t been with another man since she’d met Kyle. She hadn’t made a booty call, hadn’t
wanted
to.

“I’ll call you later,” she repeated, a slight edge in her voice, then hung up. She wouldn’t call, not ever again.

Kyle blinked, his expression deadpan, yet something flickered in his eyes, turning them an icy blue. “Business?”

“Of course.”

He drew in a deep breath, let it out. “Because I know you’d never mix business with pleasure.”

She let him have his dig at her simply because she didn’t know how to fight him, or what she wanted out of a fight. “So,” she said, trying to make her smile look real, “that’s great that Connor’s agreed to the bonuses. Was there something else?”

“Yes,” Kyle said.

Dammit, Lydia passed by
again
, a different face of doom, a little more comical this time. Josie wasn’t in the mood for her antics.

Her cell began to vibrate. Shit. Paul
knew
not to bug her at work if she told him she was busy, and she’d have to read him the riot act. She couldn’t, however, resist glancing down. It wasn’t Paul. It was Ernie. She’d talked to him two or three times since she’d been over there, but not in the last couple of weeks. Guilt assailed her. She’d been so busy. Dammit, she’d made too many freaking excuses.

“I really have to take this. It’s Ernie.” Her hand hovered over the phone.

Kyle nodded, smiled, but it didn’t erase the frostiness in his gaze.

“Hi, Ernie.”

“Josie?” A woman’s voice. “It’s not Ernie. It’s Gloria. I just needed to let you know that Ernie’s gone.”

A great fist slammed into her belly. For a moment, she couldn’t hear above the roar in her ears. Kyle shifted, leaned forward. “Ernie’s gone?” she said.

“He passed last night.”

“Passed?” It didn’t make sense. Passed what?

“You were always his favorite, so I called you instead of . . . well, I don’t know, Human Resources, I guess. I know his old boss isn’t there anymore. Who should I tell, Josie?”

She couldn’t get a word past her frozen lips, and everything just seemed to get blurry in front of her, even Kyle’s face. Ernie was gone. Ernie had passed.

Ernie was dead.

She held so tightly to the arm of her chair that her fingers hurt. She was pretty sure Kyle said her name. Or something. And he was standing.

Finally, she managed a choked word. “I—” It was a croak. She started over. “I’m so sorry, Gloria.” A deep breath didn’t help. “Don’t worry.” Her head still felt muddled, her mouth full of cotton. “I’ll tell everyone for you.” Oh, God,
how
was she supposed to tell everyone?

“Thank you, Josie. I’d really appreciate that.” She marveled that Gloria could sound so calm. “We’re having him cremated, and my sister will send you an e-mail with all the memorial information.”

“Oh, great. Thank you.” Her eyes ached, almost pulsing inside her head. She closed them, blotting out the sight of Kyle and everything but Gloria’s voice. “I’ll send it on to everyone here.” What else was she supposed to say? “He was a wonderful man.”

“Yes,” his wife answered softly, “he was. I have a lot of calls to make. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye now.”

Okay, she should do something. Tell everyone. Lydia would cry. Someone should tell Ronson, too, because despite everything, he’d liked Ernie. Ernie had understood his problems, listened to him.

“Josie?”

She looked up and Kyle was still blurry, everything around him foggy.

“Baby,” she thought she heard him murmur.

Then everything burst out of her, tears and pain and guilt, and she was clinging to him, feeling his arms around her, holding her, stroking her. He breathed soft words, called her sweet names.

Someone knocked on the door, opened it. Lydia, a box of tissues in her hand. “Josie threw out the box Ernie had in his bottom drawer,” she explained to Kyle.

“Thanks.” His voice rumbled against Josie’s cheek. The door closed again. One hand left her back, then he folded a tissue into her hand.

God, it was embarrassing. What the hell would Lydia think? That she was fucking her boss, and he’d dumped her. Yet she couldn’t stop crying.

“It’s okay, baby.” Kyle soothed a hand up and down her back.

Josie hiccupped, ineffectually tried to pull away. Kyle didn’t let her go. He didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, either. She needed him, that’s all that mattered.

The cancer had gotten Ernie at last. Sad. He wasn’t old; was darn near the prime of life. Yet Josie’s reaction still managed to shock Kyle. With the cell in her hand, her face had gone dead white, and her eyes had clouded with moisture. He didn’t think she was even aware she’d started crying right then on the phone.

“I’m sorry about Ernie,” he said.

She cried harder, burying her face in the lapel of his suit jacket.

“He was a good man,” Kyle went on.

“Very good,” she whispered. “I should have . . . gone to see him . . . again,” she said between sniffles and hiccups. “But I got so busy . . . after Ronson. I let . . . Ernie down.”

“No you didn’t. Nobody blames you.”

Lydia passed by the door again, stopped, gave him a raised brow. He simply lifted his chin, nodded his head, and let her take whatever meaning she wanted. He was damn sure Lydia had never seen Josie cry either.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually like this.” She hiccupped again.

She was always trying to pretend she was a hard-ass, that she had everything under control, that she was emotion-free. But she cared. Her breakdown was all about her guilt, what she hadn’t done for Ernie. She cared about her job, her projects, her employees, her family, the company. She wanted to be appreciated and valued. She wanted to give her all. He’d seen that the day she’d freaked out about the dryer at Coyote Ridge, though the full significance of it hit him only now.

She just didn’t want to be hurt. He’d never given that enough importance. He’d simply demanded, that she spend the night, sleep in his bed, give him her emotions, let him win her challenges, let down her barriers—all the things he wanted, not what she needed.

He wrapped her in his arms, held her, stopped trying to minimize her grief or her guilt. “I’m here, baby. Go ahead and cry. I’ll keep you safe.”

She trembled against him and gave in to a new burst of tears.

Jesus, she was everything he wanted. He didn’t give a damn that he was her boss, that she worried about her job, that she was scared of what people would say. None of that mattered, not his job, not her fear. Pulling her closer, hugging her tighter, he gave her the simple comfort of his arms.

Somehow, he’d figure out how to give all the rest of himself as well. Because he needed her.

 

 

“WOULD you look at the fu—” Todd Adams stopped himself, glancing at Josie. “The freaking gate-to-gate times.” He pointed at the computer screen for Kyle’s benefit.

The new ticketing system was off to a great start. They’d done a week of testing and debugging, and today was the final sign-off on the whole sand plant project.
Her
final project. Now it was manager all the way.

Ernie had passed almost a month ago—a day which Josie hated to relive. His memorial was a week later, the same day Nancy Fairburn had started. Despite her too-sexy attire, Bertrice was working out well, and the guys were accepting her. And Nancy? The woman was a lifesaver. She’d taken Ronson’s projects all the way.

“Holy hell,” Kyle muttered as all three of them gazed at the computer and those lovely, delightful, miraculous gate-to-gates.