That First Kiss (10 page)

             
“Grass is comfortable enough.” She could sit in the grass. It might be a little lumpy, but at least she wouldn’t be making a fool of herself.

             
“I’m sure it is, but this is the country, babe.”

             
“So?”

             
“So, I don’t think you’re going to be very comfortable knowing that any minute a snake could slither up your pant leg. You’d be on edge all night.”

             
Even though she suspected he was pulling her leg, a violent shiver traced up Piper’s spine and her eyes darted around nervously, scanning the dark blades for any sign of movement. She had faced a lot of things in her life, and she wasn’t afraid of much, but snakes? This far north, she’d forgotten about that possibility. They were the one thing she couldn’t do, the one chink in her armor.

             
“Come on, babe, cop a squat.” Tate patted his thigh again and Piper muttered a few choice curses as she bent to his will and eased herself into his lap.

             
“No funny business,” she warned him when he urged her to sit back and relax against him as opposed to her perched position. Her back pressed against his chest and the backs of her thighs molded to his and she had to admit, for as hard-bodied as he was, Tate was pretty comfortable to sit on.

             
Cindi caught her eye from across the fire and winked at her. Piper smiled tightly. She suspected that Tate’s mother had already paired the two of them up in her mind. The amused looks she caught from his sisters only solidified that notion. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too let down when they learned that she and Tate were just business partners and, aside from a possible tentative friendship she suspected may be forming between them, nothing more would ever come of it.

             
Piper listened as everyone chatted about what they had going on at work, told stories about their kids, and got caught up sharing details of life in general. She didn’t talk much herself, mainly because she was an outsider and the last thing she wanted was for everyone to know her history. Lacking a good childhood and close, personal relationships like these people clearly had, she’d stand out more than ever.

In comparison, i
t was a good feeling, being surrounded by a family that clearly loved one another, warts and all. She’d never experienced anything like it. A part of her longed to stay there, in the sheltering embrace of this family unit, but she had to remind herself that it didn’t belong to her. She was just a visitor, an intruder. With Tate’s track record, she probably wouldn’t last much longer anyway. It would be best not to get too attached, but she feared she might have already done just that.

The desire to just exist in the here and now and shelve her conc
erns for later washed over her and rather than fight it, she allowed herself the rare opportunity to just relax and enjoy herself.

Every now and then, Tate would place his hand on her leg or rub small circles into her back while caught up in co
nversation as if the actions were simply done out of habit, but to Piper not a single one went unnoticed.

The easy connection they’d formed was completely unintentional and unexpected, but Piper had no desire to look too deep into what it might mean. Instead, she relaxed and focused her attention on feeling of contentedness she was experiencing from being surrounded by such a warm bunch of people. She
listened intently and joined in the conversation wherever she could, until her eyelids grew heavy and began to droop. The day had finally caught up with her.

             
Tate’s arms came around her and tugged her closer, taking advantage of her moment of weakness. “Close your eyes,” he told her, cupping the back of her head and pressing it into his shoulder. She was too tired to argue. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”

With the fire at her front and his body wrapped around her, Piper was blanketed in heat and succumbed to sleep without protest.
The last thought to cross her mind was how much she enjoyed the feeling of being in Tate’s strong arms and how she could get used to falling asleep this way every night.

13

Piper
awoke to the sound of a horn blaring outside her apartment, only barely muffled by the ancient, single pane windows original to the building. As her brain slowly came online, she registered how well-rested she felt, a feeling that only came after a good night’s sleep. It was the most amazing feeling in the world and one she hadn’t experienced since…well, since she started working for the notorious Tate Larson.

             
Her thoughts drifted over the previous night’s events. She hadn’t been feeling great at the start of the day, which was to be expected when being visited by the figurative aunt from hell. The rest of the day wasn’t any better. She’d nearly cancelled on Tate, worried that she wouldn’t be very good company when submerged in such a funk, but she had to admit, she had been wrong.

             
His family was a breath of fresh air. Unlike any she had ever been around. The kind of family gatherings she had grown up with were something that would probably send a nice family like the Larsons packing before they even stepped out of the car.

People usually showed up drunk and only got drunker throughout the course of the day. Men brawled in the middle of the yard and the language was colorful enough to shock a sailor.

Unfortunately, the women weren’t any better. She could remember her own mother picking some good fights, and once when she was twelve she caught Kelsey Ranger fornicating behind the tool shed with Carl Henry. No amount of sex ed could compete with witnessing the real thing first-hand, that was for sure.

             
The biggest surprise was Tate’s transformation. He wasn’t outwardly rude or even pleasant, but she had definitely witnessed a change in him from the moment they set foot on his mother’s property. He was friendly, for one. He actually talked to people instead of barking orders, which was the only real way she knew him to behave. And he was attentive—that was the only way she could describe it. With small gestures, like bringing her pain meds and making up a plate for her when she refused to get up and do it herself, just to make sure she ate, he had taken care of her. It was dangerous, but she found herself thinking that if she saw more of that Tate Larson—like the playful one she’d glimpsed in the kitchen, or the sweet, loving one from last night—on a regular basis, she could easily see herself falling for him.

             
But that was a dangerous thing to do. Besides, the Tate from yesterday was a fluke and, now that the moment had passed, she had no doubt whatsoever that the Tate she knew, the one who snapped and snarled and growled at the slightest provocation, would be back the second he rolled out of bed. Which reminded her, she had better get moving before the slaver realized she hadn’t brought his coffee yet.

             
Letting out a huge yawn that made her jaw pop, Piper stretched languidly, soaking in the last vestiges of warmth and comfort her bed had to offer to prepare herself for the day ahead. Then, she froze.

             
Something felt off.

             
Sending out her mental feelers, Piper took note of every sound, every smell, every sensation. The city noises she had picked up on were sharper than she was familiar with, closer. The sheets clinging to her bare legs were softer, heavier, more luxurious. Her nose honed in on several smells: fresh linens, a hint of lemon, and one smell in particular that made the little hairs on her forearms stand on end.

             
Piper inhaled deeply, detecting the distinct, spicy scent of male. It was close. Familiar. Her body answered with a tingling and sudden rush of dampness between her thighs. It was then she registered that she was not alone. There was someone else in her bed. Was she even in her bed? Something inside told her she was not.

             
She ran through her most recent memories, taking inventory of all the places she had been last and who she was with. Unless she had completely skipped over an entire day, the last thing she recalled was curling up in Tate’s arms at his family barbeque.

             
As if to provide an answer to her dilemma, the body beside her rolled. A heavy arm draped across her stomach, pinning her to the bed. Inside, Piper panicked. What had she done last night? She couldn’t remember!

             
Slowly, she peeled her eyelids open and took a moment to stare at the white popcorn ceiling—not the tin with several coats of chipped and peeling paint that usually greeted her—confirming her suspicions that she had not made it home last night. She knew that ceiling. A quick visual inspection of the furniture only strengthened what she already knew to be true.

             
Instinct told her she needn’t bother to look to know who that arm belonged to, either. Christ, what a mess. The girls were going to have a field day with this one.

             
With slow movements, Piper began the careful task of extricating herself from his bed.

             
“Mmm.” Tate’s sleepy moan rumbled against her shoulder where he’d buried his head and his arm constricted around her waist, pulling her tighter against the line of his firm body.

Piper stilled, her body rigid and her breathing shallow while she waited. When she was fairly certain he was sleeping soundly, she grasped his wrist between two fingers and gently lifted his arm away.
When he rolled onto his back, she seized the opportunity and leaped from the bed.

             
As quiet as a mouse, Piper tiptoed around the room, relieved to find that she was still dressed in the blouse and underwear she’d worn the night before. Folded and placed neatly in a pile on top of the dresser, she scooped up the rest of her clothing. She didn’t have time to dwell that Tate had brought her back to his place, or that he had put her in his bed, and she certainly didn’t have the luxury of being angry that he had stripped her of half her clothing. She absolutely refused to explore the possibilities of what all of that might mean. Instead, Piper dashed from the room with her clothes clutched in her arms.

The moment her feet hit the living room floor, she dropped the lot into the club chair and jammed her legs into her pants. Socks and shoes
quickly followed and in under a minute, she was out the door. She didn’t breathe a full breath until she stepped off the elevator and hit the sidewalk running.

***
**

“So you just left?” Sheila sat opposite her at the round dining table she had purchased from Ikea and assembled herself. It was a little rickety, whether by design or Sheila’s inability to tell a screwdriver from a wrench, she didn’t know, but it fit the space perfectly.

             
Piper hung her head. The teacup she held between her palms pushed hot steam into her face and she inhaled the delicate aroma of chamomile and honey. It did absolutely nothing to calm her frazzled nerves. “I didn’t know what to do,” she explained. “I don’t even remember going home with him.”

             
“Must have been some night, eh?” Sheila’s light brows danced.

             
“No, it was nothing like that. At least, I don’t think it was.” She felt her brows pull down as she contemplated the question. “I just know I woke up half-dressed and in my boss’s bed.”

             
“Yeah, sleeping with the boss man can certainly complicate things a bit. I’m speaking from experience here.” She got up to pour another cup of tea into her mug. “The difference here is that the two of you have already bumped uglies, and look how well everything has worked out,” she said, reclaiming her stool. Piper couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. “Look at it this way. What’s the worst that could happen? You get to screw your incredibly hot boss and get paid while doing it?”

             
“That sounds an awful lot like prostitution, don’t you think? Besides, what happens when he decides he’s done with me and fires me?” Piper countered, flustered by the whole situation.

             
“You said it yourself, the man doesn’t do relationships. It could be like…” she waved her hand through the air as she searched for the right words. “Like friends with benefits.”

             
“We’re not friends.”

             
“Okay, employee with benefits. He doesn’t even cut your checks anyway. Didn’t you say that he was your second boss or something? Dude can’t even fire you if he wanted to.”

             
“He might not have the power to fire me directly, but I’m sure that Mr. Sinclair would have no problem doing it if he found out I was screwing around with Tate, one of his best clients. Somehow I think big time writer takes precedence over lowly assistant.”

             
“You can always find another job,” Sheila pointed out. “Look, all I’m saying is that you could screw this guy seven ways to Sunday and still walk away clean.”

             
Piper shook her head. “I can’t risk it. I need this job.”

             
Shelia reached out and covered her hand with her own. “I get it, I really do, but life is about taking risks, and you, my dear, are sorely in need of one.”

             
Piper sighed, slumping back against the chair as she contemplated her words. She had a life, but it wasn’t the one that she had spent her childhood dreaming of: a decent house, a couple of kids, a devoted husband and maybe a dog or two. Having sex with Tate wouldn’t get her any closer to those things, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun it while it lasted. Then again, she had an awful lot to lose. Her job for starters and without that paycheck she would be back in Alabama quicker than she could blink an eyelash.

             
No, Shelia was wrong. Getting any more involved with Tate was a bad idea. They’d crossed the line once, and despite the fuzzy feelings she had experienced lately, she wouldn’t allow it to happen again. The fact that she was attracted to the man didn’t have to interfere with their professional relationship. It didn’t have to become a complication. Now she just had to keep telling herself that so she didn’t fall into his bed the next time she saw him.

             
“I’m probably making too much of this whole thing anyway,” she said. Piper dropped from her chair and dumped the remnants of her tea down the drain. “Not since the club has he even looked at me like that, let alone acted like he liked me.” Except for the time he asked her if she wanted him to fuck her, and the time he stroked his morning wood and invited her to give him a hand working it out. Then there was last night. Damn she was a mess of confusion and contradiction wasn’t she?

             
“Don’t sell yourself short. Attraction like that doesn’t just disappear, doll. Ask someone who knows,” Shelia said, indicating herself. “When a man suddenly shifts gears like that, acting like you don’t exist and barking at you one minute, then cuddling with you the next, he’s definitely interested.”

             
Piper thought of the other day when Tate had backed her into the dining table looking feral, like he could eat her up any minute. Then she recalled later when he nearly tore her head from her shoulders for misplacing the client list. She’d found it, but the way he had laid into her had pretty much ruined her day.

She shook her head.
“In any other situation, I would have to agree with you, but this time, you’re wrong.” Despite the little dip in her stomach at the idea that Tate might want her,
really
want her, Piper was under no illusion that Tate was interested in her for more than her organizational skills and maybe a quick roll in the sack. He was a man, after all. Tate was about as unattached, uninterested and unaffected by her than if she were one of his sisters she told herself.

             
“And if I’m right?”

             
“And if you’re right, I’ll grab hold of that man meat and ride him ‘til the cows come home,” she said boldly, then immediately cast the conversation aside, confident in the knowledge that nothing even close to that scenario would ever come to light.