My Boss's Kiss Read online

  But suddenly, I could see things weren’t going to go the way I’d imagined. I felt sort of sick watching Krystal blatantly flirt with Adam, and she kept putting me down to make herself seem, I’m not sure, funny? Suddenly, I realized I liked her a lot better before her divorce. Suddenly, I realized I hated her.

  “Maybe you could take me for a ride in your new car,” Krystal said to Adam when we’d finally finished dinner. She cooed, “—and take me dancing.”

  Adam spoke to Krystal, but his eyes cut to me. “You mean the three of us?”

  “No!” Krystal laughed. “Ashley isn’t into cars, or dancing. She likes to stay home with her kids.”

  Okay, that was true, what she said, but it suddenly made me feel boring.

  “I like hanging out with Jones’ kids, too,” Adam said, and I could have kissed him. In fact, I wanted to full-on make-out with him, right there, in the booth. Suddenly, he was the sexiest guy on the planet. Take that Krystal! Who’s boring now?

  But Krystal let the remark slide, as though it hadn’t even been said. “Why do you call Ashley Jones?”

  Adam took a drink before answering. “Back when I first met her, she was Ashley Jones. Then my best friend, Jason Pierce, met her.” Adam glanced at me, sending rockets through my body. He took another drink, his eyes still on me. “Jason changed her name to Pierce pretty quick.”

  “Oh, I loved Jason,” Krystal cooed.

  Adam looked up at her in surprise. Of course he had no way of knowing Jason and Krystal’s husband used to work together, that we used to all be good friends.

  Krystal explained with a laugh, “He was the only friend of my ex-husband’s that I could stand.”

  Adam nodded, studying his drink. “Here’s to Jason.”

  He raised his glass. Krystal and I raised ours too, but suddenly I had tears in my eyes. I really should never drink. It never ends well.

  Krystal downed her glass, changing gears in record speed. She clutched Adam’s thigh. “So, let’s see how fast your car can go!”

  Adam glanced at me, as though to see what I thought of this. He must have been sorely tempted. I mean, Krystal was beautiful and had the best body money could buy, and she was pretty much throwing herself at him. He had to know if he went off with her he was going to score big time, no doubt about it.

  I shrugged at him, like whatever. After all, I wasn’t exactly into my dear friend Krystal these days. I hadn’t seen her since I moved from Pennsylvania, and now I hoped I’d never see her again, ever. So, she might as well get screwed. At least that’s what I tried telling myself. But in truth, I knew I’d die if Adam left with her.

  Still, what could I do? I held my breath, waiting for Adam’s answer.

  He took another drink, then flinched his jaw muscles a moment—something he does when he’s thinking. Apparently, weighing the situation in his mind.

  Finally he said, “I think I’m going to pass. Jones’ kids are at their grandma’s tonight.”

  I looked up at him in surprise. I had no idea he knew that. He must have overheard me talking to Sharona earlier this evening.

  Adam went on, kind of confidential-like, “I’m pretty sure Jones planned on this being a girl’s night.”

  Now I felt lame. And pathetic. He felt sorry for me. Ugh! He must have heard how excited I was to have my dear old friend in town, heard all my silly plans.

  Adam rose from the table, giving the excuse he had work to finish.

  “It was nice meeting you,” he said to Krystal before leaving.

  Krystal watched him go in disbelief.

  Of course she didn’t like being brushed off, totally didn’t expect it, but my spirits turned toward the heavens. Yay Adam! You rock!

  I so wanted to follow him into his office and pin him against his door. Wanted to get reacquainted with his hot hungry mouth, and thrilling, talented tongue. I wanted to so incredibly bad.

  Having Krystal around wasn’t what stopped me. Screw Krystal, I thought, I’m just going to go for it.

  But then she started whining about getting old and how she felt like she was always going to be alone.

  Ugh.

  So, of course, I had to take her to find chocolate. Lots of it—fast. And it couldn’t be here, in the booth she’d just been jilted in.

  We left the restaurant. I took her downtown to a place that served chocolate decadence to die for. However, the place was hopping busy, so the hostess offered us a table in the bar. “Otherwise, it’s an hour wait,” she said.

  Krystal freely moaned about her life as we gorged on chocolate and downed sympathy drink after sympathy drink, then Krystal announced, “I have an idea!”

  She took another swig of beer before adding, “Let’s go to Adam’s.”

  Well, I have to say, that idea sounded good to me. But even in my drunk state, I knew three was not what I wanted. Three was bad. I wanted Adam all to myself.

  “It’s late,” I said. “He’s asleep.”

  “Good,” she said. Then she told me this great funny joke-idea she had. We’d move Adam’s car, and in the morning he would think it was stolen. Well, I was drunker than I realized because that sounded super funny to me. And besides, it put me in the proximity of Adam. I liked that.

  So, we went out to Adam’s. His car key was under his front right tire, where he always keeps it at his house. Why, I don’t know, but he’d been keeping car keys there since he was sixteen.

  We crept into his car, Krystal behind the wheel, and she didn’t want to turn on the lights because it might wake up Adam. And once we were a little away from his house—just a tiny bit—she gunned the engine and then sped-out just for fun, but his car had a lot more power than she expected … and she accidentally sped into a tree.

  A tree!

  I couldn’t believe it!

  We’d totaled Adam’s car.

  CHAPTER 5

  I jumped out and looked at the damage and started bawling. And calling Krystal a bunch of horrible names. They just flowed out of my mouth. I was so mad at her … and myself. What had we done? Ruined Adam’s pride and joy—the only thing that had made him smile in months. I felt sick. I really did.

  I puked again and again and Krystal ran off, because, let’s face it, I was a witch to her. I puked a couple of times more and then, still crying hysterically, walked back to Adam’s.

  I pounded on his door, and when he finally answered he was full of concern. It made me cry even harder. He put his arms around me, holding me tight. “Jones, are you okay?”

  “I am but, your car—”

  Adam stiffened. “My car?! My car that I told you not to touch?”

  I sobbed, explaining the whole thing, ending with the plea, “Don’t hate me Adam. Please don’t hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you, Ashley. I don’t. But I am mad. And you’re going to have to pay me back. Do you understand, Ashley? Do you understand how you’re going to pay me back?”

  I nodded, though I didn’t really know. I didn’t have a clue. And the way he kept saying my name instead of Jones, he never did that, ever, it was unnerving. It had the hairs on my arms standing on end. What was I going to have to do? Give him all my tips … forever?

  “Take off your clothes and lean over my bed,” he said.

  I stared at him in disbelief. Did he really just say that? “Huh?”

  He nodded slightly, saying it again, exactly the same, making me kind of excited, but shivery and sick at the same time.

  “Take off …?” I stared at him. “Are you kidding?”

  “No Ashley, I’m completely serious,” he said, sounding completely serious.

  What the …?!

  I had a loopy, weird, fluttery feeling in my stomach. And a strange sense of déjà vu. Of sorts. I’d had this fantasy a lot lately. Where I’m forced to let Adam have his hungry, passionate way with me. It’s one of my favorites. But this wasn’t a fantasy. This was happening … for real. It was weird. And the way he was looking at me and acting—well, he was lookin
g at me in a good, dream-fantasy sort of way. It had me ready to do whatever he wanted, but he was acting, well, not like Adam. At all. Adam was a nice guy. Super nice. And yeah, he was into sex, of course, but with other women. Not me. He was super respectful of me. Always.

  “Adam—”

  My voice cracked, but right now he wasn’t Adam—Jason’s best friend, my boss, friend of the family—he was a guy, and I was a girl he wanted to see naked.

  I turned away from him, almost crying. But I’d destroyed his prized possession, the only thing that had made him happy since Brandy left.

  Haltingly, I began to fumble with my buttons. But he immediately stopped me. “Start with your hair Ashley.”

  My hands trembling, I slowly pulled the clip from my hair. Adam came around to the other side of the room, where he could get a better view. He didn’t say anything. He just sat watching me, his eyes blatantly on my long freed hair.

  I was filled with bizarre, mixed emotions. On the one hand, I was extremely gratified to be watched with such devoted fervor by Adam—Adam!—the sexy hottie I had been fantasizing about night after night. But he was making me do this. It seemed wrong … wrong that I liked it.

  Also, there was the fact he was my boss, and this was going to change things forever. We were going to do the things I’d fantasized about. Do them for real.

  It was exciting to think about, but scary. Super scary. Nervously, I ran my fingers through my long hair. Adam moaned a little at the action, sending a zing of pleasure through me. Adam Baker, an appreciative audience—it was … thrilling.

  “Stop Ashley,” he said as I went for my buttons again. “You don’t have to do this. I was just messing with you. I have insurance.”

  Reality slammed through me. Slapped me in the face. He was messing with me?! This was just like back in middle school. Him trying to make me feel like an idiot. And it worked. I was humiliated and embarrassed. Especially because I’d been so turned-on. Now I felt like an idiot.

  Tears welled in my eyes. I gritted my teeth, snarling: “What I did—it was an accident. I didn’t hurt you on purpose.”

  “Didn’t you?” he asked softly.

  The question was crazy. Stupid. Of course I didn’t mean to hurt him. I would never, ever hurt him, not on purpose. Never. I didn’t bother to stop and quibble about it, though. I ran out of his house.

  Adam didn’t even try to stop me, not even slightly. He just silently watched me scurry to his front door, staying out of my way.

  I was heartbroken.

  It was just like middle school. Adam broke my heart—once again.

  CHAPTER 6

  The next day I didn’t go to work. I left a message with Sharona saying I was sick. I didn’t know what I was going to do, what I should do. I didn’t even know how I felt. Not exactly.

  All I knew was, I couldn’t face Adam, though he had left a message on my phone as I drove home from his house last night. He had said, “I’m sorry Ashley.” Then he paused a long time, “But don’t worry about my car, okay? It’s just a car. All I care about is you—that you’re okay. I guess I should have mentioned that instead of telling you to get naked.” Then he added, “—although I would have enjoyed seeing you naked.”

  Hearing that had made me wince.

  … and I kept wincing about it.

  Last night, what I thought he was trying to pull, it was so strange. But it excited me, had me excited even now, just thinking about it—the way his eyes had been on me, all longing and hungry. I lay in bed all day and into the late hours of the night, tossing and turning. Thank goodness Jason’s parents had the kids for the weekend. What I told Sharona wasn’t lie. I really was sick. Sick with guilt and shame and wondering. What had Adam meant by his question, “Didn’t you?”

  I guess he was right. Sort of. I had meant to hurt him, a little. Not with the car, though, definitely not that. But last week—there had been this moment. See, he had been seeing this girl, Lindsey, and he seemed to be sort of into her. I guess I kind of messed that up for him, sort of. But not on purpose, exactly.

  He had just mentioned to me at the restaurant that maybe the kids and I shouldn’t come to his house when she was around. “She seems to be, I don’t know, a little bit, uh, jealous,” he had said.

  I widened my eyes. Lindsey was beautiful, and young. Super young. She was jealous of me? I was kind of surprised, and mystified.

  I gaped at him. “Jealous of me? Why?”

  “Well, not you. Or maybe you. The whole situation really,” he said, not seeming to want to talk about it. “She has it worked into something it’s not.”

  “Adam,” I said, hoisting up my full tray of food for table ten, “what are you talking about?”

  “She thinks you guys come over a lot—which you don’t. And she thinks you take advantage of me—which if you do, I haven’t really noticed. But,” he picked up my second tray for me, then didn’t go on, but started on a new tack, “Look, if she’s at my house, could you not be?”

  I swallowed, then slightly shrugged, like his request was no big deal. And I tried to reason with myself that it wasn’t. After all, it wasn’t like I went to Adam’s house. I didn’t. I used his extra parking spot, ‘cause he lived right at the beach and finding parking was a pain during the summer. But I hardly ever actually went in to his house. The kids did—they adored Adam and he seemed to have adopted them since Jason died. He totally bonded with them. So they’d go in his house sometimes after swimming in the ocean to warm up in his hot tub, but I never did—went in with them—well, hardly ever. Because, you know, I used to think Adam hated me. And then, right after that, there was the “office escapade.” So, I felt awkward around him and tried to stay away. Sort of. Pretty much.

  I swallowed again. “Sure.”

  I tried to sound breezy, like his request was no big deal—like I wouldn’t dream of going to his house with Lindsey there, ‘cause really I wouldn’t. For so many reasons. Only, I felt slightly punched in the stomach, though really it seemed I shouldn’t feel hurt or even care—except that Lindsey seemed sort of like a witch and it sucked that Adam chose her over me and the kids. Okay, it was totally irrational and selfish of me to feel that way since she was (sort of) his girlfriend—I knew that. I did. But blah. That was the way I felt.

  Anyway, that was the end of the conversation.

  But then a few nights later, my kids and I ran into the “couple” at the fair. And my son, Cory, of course, wanted to go on the bumper cars with Adam, and my daughter dragged him over to the ring-toss wanting him to win her a stuffed animal.

  Adam seemed thrilled to see us. He really, truly, genuinely loves my kids. He does. And my kids love him. It’s a beautiful thing. But I saw Adam glance over at Lindsey, like “What’s a guy to do? They love me.” And Lindsey rolled her eyes, the witch. So, I tried to drag my kids away—since Adam had, nicely, asked me to back off when she was around. But my kids wouldn’t leave without a fight, and Adam didn’t seem to really want them to go.

  Finally, Adam came up with a compromise of sorts, suggesting, “Jones, you can have some time to yourself if you want. Lindsey and I will watch your kids for a while.”

  Which was his way of asking me to get lost, so he could hang out with my kids, but still get lucky later. Only, I was at the fair for my kids. I didn’t have anything to do there, alone. Besides feel stupid. Still, what could I do? My kids wanted to hang out with Adam and Adam couldn’t hang out with me, it seemed.

  So, Adam got his way—that day.

  But …

  A few days later was a bright, beautiful Saturday. So, of course, my kids wanted me to take them to the beach.

  I drove around forever looking for a parking spot before I finally gave up and parked at Adam’s. Lindsey’s car was in his driveway so I knew she was there. I made the kids promise not to knock at Adam’s door or make ourselves known or anything. Only, once we were settled into our spot on the beach, a thunderstorm came from out of nowhere and it was suddenly pou
ring.

  As we were running for the car my daughter said she had to go to the bathroom, right that second. So, with no other choice, we knocked on Adam’s door.

  He didn’t exactly look thrilled to see us. He muttered under his breath, “You’re killing me, Jones.”

  I sighed, wary to tell him, “I’m so sorry to bother you—really—but Jillian needs to use the restroom.”

  “Oh,” he said, opening the door for her, like Of course, by all means, come in.

  Jillian padded off to the bathroom, Lindsey scowling after her from the hallway.

  “She has to use the bathroom,” Adam explained.

  Lindsey didn’t stop scowling. Witch.

  “We were at the beach, but it started pouring,” Cory told Adam. “Can we use your hot tub?”

  “Cory!” I scolded, having warned him time and time again this afternoon not to dare ask.

  “Sure, you can use the hot tub,” Adam said, and when Lindsey shot him a dirty look he said, “What? It’s pouring.”

  The kids gleefully piled into the hot tub and it was my cue to politely leave—with the excuse of shopping to do—only I heard Lindsey whine to Adam that the kids were “always around.”

  So, instead of leaving, suddenly I decided to stay. Defiantly, I took off my cover-up, introducing Adam’s eyes to my new bathing suit. Apparently, I looked “slammin’” in it—at least that’s what I’d overheard two guys saying on the beach earlier. Apparently, I “had it going on.”

  Normally, I always wore my cover-up around Adam, always—just cuz. So Adam never saw me in my bathing suit—until now. I watched him look away from Lindsey, his eyes suddenly glued to me.

  “Adam, come get in with us!” the kids shouted.