Trust in Me (10 page)

The roar of a different monster drew Claire's attention to the sales floor. "You told my father I was an incompetent employee and a liability to the store!"

Ray, his face red and full of fury, stood with his nose inches from Kevin's and his hands balled at his hips.

"I said unproductive, not incompetent. You can do the work. You just don't." Kevin didn't back down from Ray's hostile stance, and Claire silently cheered her boss on.

"How dare you go to my dad like that, trying to get me fired!" Ray called Kevin a name that singed the walls, but still Kevin held his own. "He put me on probation thanks to you!"

Morbid fascination led her to keep an eye on the progress of the latest confrontation between the manager and stock clerk.

"It's my job to look after the best interests of the store, not to cater to a lazy employee—no matter who they are."

"You must want me to beat the snot out of you. If you want a piece of me, you meet me face to face, fist to fist. Don't sneak behind my back to my father, you yellow-bellied pansy."

From the corner of her eye, Claire saw Lydia appear in the door of the break room. "Ray Lowery, you're gonna push too far one day and—"

Kevin raised a hand to hush Lydia, and the sales clerk huffed and stomped back into the break room.

Claire gave the toilet another swipe then propped the scrubbing brush in the corner of the bathroom. With the water running while she washed her hands, she couldn't hear what transpired next, but when she emerged from the men's room, Ray looked ready to blow a fuse. She knew what a fuse was, too. She'd sold one today to a man rewiring his woodworking shop.

Kevin had a sly grin on his lips as he answered Ray's latest jibe. "I don't know where you were when they taught anatomy, Ray, but what you're suggesting is physically impossible."

"Not when I get through with you, it won't be. Let's take it outside, Fuller."

Kevin's face brightened. "Hey, if you're going outside..." He stepped behind the counter and grabbed a broom. "Sweep up the walkway. Ms. Billings spilled some birdseed, and we don't need any customers slipping and falling."

Kevin held the broom out, and Ray knocked it away. "Go to hell."

The surly teen marched toward the loading dock. Claire fully expected to find him smoking again, if she were to follow.

Kevin mumbled something to himself about being in hell. She could fill in the blanks well enough. Anyone who'd spent five minutes around the disagreeable teenager could empathize.

A few minutes later, she found Kevin hunched over the desk in the office, rubbing his temples.

"You look like you could use a couple aspirin. I have some in my purse if you want them."

He glanced to the door as if startled by her voice, then groaned. "What I need is a stock boy who's not related to the owner. Someone who'll do the work I need done."

Claire stepped into the office and sat on the edge of the chair she'd used when she filled out her application the first day. "So hire one. Maybe some competition is what Ray needs to motivate him."

Kevin lowered his hands from his temples and leveled a dark, piercing gaze on her. "You know, you're right. It's worth a shot at least."

A slow grin tugged up the corner of his mouth and brought the warmth that she loved to his eyes.

"Glad I could help."

He spun his chair toward the filing cabinet by the desk and opened a drawer. Pulling out a file, he began rifling through the papers while tipping his head from side to side, stretching the muscles in his neck. "I have a few applications on file, maybe there's someone in here..."

Without giving it much thought, Claire stood and moved up behind him to read over his shoulder. She placed her hands on his shoulders and gave his muscles a deep rub. Rather than relaxing, Kevin stiffened at her touch.

"Sorry." She pulled her hands back and shoved them in the pockets of her uniform apron. "I used to give my father shoulder massages when he was tense. I thought it might help your headache."

He turned in his chair to look up at her. "I just...uh, wasn't expecting..."

When he plowed his fingers through his disheveled hair, she fought the temptation to smooth the ruffled wisps back into place. The slightly rumpled look suited Kevin's low-key persona.

Kevin faced the file folder again without finishing his sentence. Now, not only did he seem tense, he acted jittery.

Claire puzzled over why she made him nervous. Had she done something to upset him?

A fluttery sensation started in her stomach as she considered digging her fingers into the corded sinew and strength that pulled his shirt taut across his back. Her hands itched to touch him again, to savor the feeling of his toned body against her skin. She stared at the knotted muscles in his neck for another moment then slid her hands over his shoulders. With firm kneading pressure, she worked the tight spots, and Kevin moaned. The deep rumble from his chest reminded her of the thrum of his motorcycle and reverberated inside her. The fluttering kicked up, leaving her bones weak and her blood hot.

Kevin allowed his head to loll forward, and she felt him relax. But now she was tense. The sensual feel of his hot skin over firm, corded muscle sent delicious heat skittering through her. Her every nerve stretched taut and sizzled inside her. If he were to return her touch, she thought she might burst into flame. She wanted that, wanted to feel his callused hands stroke her and stoke the crackling yearning dancing along her flesh.

He lifted his head, now letting it fall back as he rolled his shoulders. "Wow, you have magic hands."

When his head bumped her breast, the return quip she had on her tongue lodged in her throat. Even through her shirt, his hair teased her sensitized nipples. Or perhaps her imagination, picturing his fingertips grazing the straining peaks of her breasts, caused the tingling rush to collect at that erogenous spot.

Kevin opened his eyes, covered her massaging hands with his and gave her a heart-stopping smile. "Thanks, that feels great."

"Well, ain't this sweet."

Ray's voice cut in like a buzz saw shattering a peaceful morning, and Kevin stiffened. Claire jerked her hands back.

"What do you want, Ray?" Kevin's voice held none of his usual patience or calm.

When the teen raked a shrewd gaze over Claire, a prickly vulnerability lurched through her. In light of the sensual track her thoughts had been on, she felt oddly exposed before Ray. She crossed her arms over her chest to protect herself from his scrutiny.

"Wonder what my dad would think of you coming on to the counter help? The words 'sexual harassment' mean anything to you, Fuller?" Ray said, tossing Kevin's words back in his face.

Heat crept up Claire's neck to her cheeks, and she hugged herself tighter.

Kevin rose from his chair, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Without moving his eyes from Ray, he asked, "Do you wish to file a harassment complaint against me, Miss Albritton?"

She frowned. "No. Of course not."

Kevin nodded to Ray. "Good. Case closed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some paperwork to finish before closing time."

Claire headed for the door where Ray blocked the opening with his unyielding brawn. She cleared her throat. "Excuse me."

Ray divided a hard stare between her and Kevin before stomping out to the sales floor and slapping the register with the flat of his hand. "I'm outta here. Clock me out, will ya, Lyd?"

"Clock your own self out," Lydia called back as Ray sailed out the front door.

The closing door mercifully muffled his reply. But judging by the facial expression the elderly customer by the entrance wore, Ray's parting shot was characteristically crude.

Kevin appeared in the door of the office, his mouth drawn in a firm line. "Did Ray just leave?" His annoyed tone said he knew the answer.

The vroom of Ray's Corvette rocketing out of the parking lot rattled the windows and left an awkward silence in its wake.

Claire didn't envy Kevin's job of managing the unmanageable teen. How he coped on a day-to-day basis with Ray's backtalk and slacking off dumbfounded her.

As if in response to her thoughts, Kevin sucked in a deep breath as if inhaling fresh mountain air, tipped a grin to Claire and Lydia and cupped a hand to his ear. "Hear that? Peace and quiet at last. Now maybe we can get some work done, huh?"

Executing a vaudeville-style exit, Kevin disappeared again into the office.

Lydia laughed and ambled over to the cash register where Claire stood. "Some days, I don't know how I'd make it without Kevin's joking. My daddy used to say you could survive anything with the good Lord and a sense of humor on your side." She lowered her voice and leaned in close to Claire. "I'd say ole Kevin is proof enough of that, considering all he's come through in his day."

Claire wanted desperately to ask what Lydia meant by that comment, but Kevin stuck his head out of the office with the phone in his hand. "Lyd, your youngest heathen is on the phone and wants to speak to you. Something about one of the dogs eating the cake you made last night and throwing it up on the sofa."

  "What! God bless a milk cow! Why are those boys lettin' the dogs in the house in the first place! I told them..."

But what she'd told them was lost in a mumble as Lydia took the phone and stepped around the corner into the office. Five minutes later, Lydia excused herself to head home and save her home from annihilation by third graders.

Once again, Claire and Kevin were left alone in the quiet store. Business slowed to a trickle. She busied her hands by straightening a display of gardening tools and vegetable seeds. But nothing she tried kept her mind off the sensual experience of kneading Kevin's shoulder muscles. The sound of his grateful moan replayed in her head and electrified her nerves.

Kevin kept himself occupied, holed up in the office the entire evening, and Claire wondered if he was avoiding her. Had she overstepped the boundaries of business protocol when she rubbed his shoulders? In hindsight, she realized she probably had.

Rats
! As if there weren't enough ways for her to mess things up for herself with this job, she had to go and invent new ways to make things awkward with her boss.

When Kevin appeared at the office door a few hours later, he called, "Nine o'clock. Time to lock up." He stretched his arms over his head and yawned, and she pointedly averted her eyes. She'd done enough gawking and fantasizing about his chest in recent days to land her in trouble.

"God, what a day. I'm bushed." He sighed, and she heard the jingle of keys and his shuffling footstep as he made his way to the front door. "I'll lock up behind you after you clock out."

She didn't have to be told twice. Claire hustled to the office, clocked herself out and grabbed her purse from the cluttered shelf.

Kevin held the door for her as she breezed outside, into the stifling humidity and residual fragrance of a late afternoon rain shower.

"'Night, Kevin." She only glanced at him as she hurried out, embarrassed by the memory of her forwardness that afternoon. Yet in the brief moment their eyes met, an awareness, a connection with him streaked through her like a flash of lightning. Her breath caught, and her heart somersaulted.

"See ya in the morning." He tore his gaze away quickly, confirming to her that she'd screwed up big time with her impromptu massage.

From now on she'd be all business. She couldn't afford to blow this job or her one shot at proving herself.

She’d made it no farther than half way across the lot when the thump of rap music, the roar of an engine, and the gleam of bright headlights pierced the night. Ray was back.

He pulled his red Corvette in front of her, blocking her path, and with a weary sigh and niggling dread, she stopped and faced Ray.

"Hey, Claire! Where ya going?" he called over the blare of music.

"Home. Excuse me please."

"It’s still early. Why don’t you come with us and party a little?"

"Us?" She noticed the two other teenagers in the car with him for the first time. "No thanks. I'm tired, and I just want to go home."

Claire side-stepped the front fender, but Ray pulled along-side her, following her as she walked to her car. "Come on, Claire. Don’t be a snob. We’ll show you a good time." 

He propped his elbow in the window and leaned out, grinning while his friends hooted and jeered.

"Get lost, Ray."  Claire kept walking, her stomach beginning to tighten with nervous energy.

"Cla-aire!" Ray said in a sing-song manner. "You know you want to. There’s enough beer for you, too."  As if to prove it, Ray held out a bottle to her.

So he'd been drinking. Great. That didn't bode well. Ray was obnoxious enough without alcohol to hamper his inhibitions.

"I don’t drink."  She dug in her purse for her keys, her pulse picking up speed. She wanted to glance over her shoulder and make sure Kevin was still nearby, but instinctively she knew he was.

One look at her new Beetle brought her to her senses. Her symbol of independence, her first bold statement of her freedom from her father.
You don't need Kevin to get you out of this. Stand up to Ray. Handle this on your own!

She sucked in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She could do it. She simply needed to use the same tact, the same humor and maturity she'd seen Kevin employ.

She finally dragged the keys for her new Bug from the bottom of her purse and marched past Ray's Corvette.

While she fumbled with the unfamiliar lock, he put his car in park and climbed out. Coming up behind her, Ray reached around and snatched the keys from her hand.

She whirled on him, anger snapping in her veins. "Ray Lowery, you jerk, give me my keys!"

He stepped closer, and his arm snaked around her waist, trapping her between his body and the side of the Beetle. "Say please."

His friends' laughter cackled from his car, and as Ray leaned closer, leering, she smelled the alcohol on his breath.

"Give me my keys."  She thrust her hand, palm up, between them to punctuate her demand. She kept a level, unwavering glare locked with his.