Crazy for the Boss (Crazy in Love Book 1) (13 page)

He laughed, unable to stop himself, as what she’d said was completely ludicrous. She was anything but boring or cold or… “A nut? You liken yourself to a nut?”

“You know, all hard on the outside, almost unbreakable, but once you make the effort to crack me open, I’m soft and complicated on the inside.”

There were too many double entendres to that one, and he had to bite back another laugh. “You know, Quinn, just because you’re not an open book does not make you cold or standoffish. It’s your complexity, your spirit, your drive and determination that have had me enthralled with you from the first moment I met you.”

“You mean when you had your tongue down that blonde’s throat on the elevator?”

He smiled. “Okay, maybe not just then. But sitting across from you at that table a few minutes later, I could see not just intelligence but also passion. Now, why don’t you try to lie down and get some rest,” he said, guiding her to the bed. “You have a long day ahead of you.”

She’d already pulled one arm out of her jacket and shrugged it off before tugging the light purple scarf that she’d been wearing all day from her neck.

“Here,” he said, unwrapping it with more care until the soft fabric was free in his hands. This, for some reason, he held on to, tucking it into his pocket while she plopped back on the bed, barely missing the corner of her nightstand.

She stared up at him with the goofiest expression on her face, her eyes nearly closed. “You know, someday you’re going to make some lucky girl really happy. Really, really happy.”

Then, just like that, she closed her eyes and, with one last big sigh, was out.

He stood there, looking down at her as she slept. So vulnerable and honest and all too wonderful. He took a moment to brush a strand of hair from her face before stepping back until he was at the threshold of her room.

“Night,” he said even though she couldn’t hear, then he turned the light out and shut the door.

Back in his own tiny space, he stripped off the borrowed clothes and slipped on the pair of (what else?) flannel pajama pants that Quinn’s mom must have left for him on the bed. Grabbing his cell phone and Quinn’s scarf, he sank onto the bed.

For a moment, he inhaled the soft, familiar scent that still lingered on the scarf, knowing as he did so he was being practically as perv-y as the guys on the dance floor tonight but not caring. He wrapped it around his hand and turned his attention to his cell phone to see if it had been updated during his foray into town.

He was surprised to find that he’d received a dozen emails, phone calls, and text messages—and he hadn’t checked them even once. Then again, why would he when nothing that anyone could say would be as interesting as what was happening around him?

But now, with nothing else to do but give in to his drowsiness, he decided to see what was awaiting him.

There was a message from his pilot telling him that the part was delayed in Spokane and wasn’t expected to arrive until late afternoon tomorrow. Which meant there was a real possibility the plane might still be grounded until the following morning.

Instead of disappointment that his trip to Cabo might be delayed further, however, James felt…relieved. Maybe even a little excited. Another day in the company of a woman who never ceased to surprise him.

He just hoped that Quinn and her family would be as accepting of this change in plans.

James scrolled through texts from his friends who were already partying in Cabo and awaiting his arrival, before going on to his emails.

It was the last one that came in about eleven that night that had him tense.

It was from Paul letting him know that a situation had arisen at work and he’d suspended Lauralee until he could speak with him. As Paul described it, this suspension was merely a formality before he went ahead and officially terminated the woman’s employment. With Dennis’s blessing, of course.

Damn it.

James raked his hand through his hair. What the hell were Dennis and Paul up to? More importantly, how was Quinn going to react to this when she found out?

He didn’t know the particulars, and maybe the reasons for Paul’s decision were reasonable and—

Now he was just kidding himself. Paul had a chip on his shoulders as big as the one that sank the Titanic. James had serious doubts that whatever infraction Lauralee committed was worth terminating her for. Again.

But if he went up against Paul, whose decision was obviously sanctioned by Dennis, the company’s general counsel, what kind of battle did he have ahead of him? Was he going to lose the support of those board members who had swung their vote his way because of his grandfather’s influence?

As to his grandfather, James had some ideas as to whose side the old man would take in this potential battle.

A glance at the time told him trying to get anyone on the phone at this hour wasn’t possible. He might as well try to get as much sleep as he could before trying to get to the bottom of this in the morning. He’d borrow Bessie and head into town, where he could get some decent Wi-Fi and cell service, since there was no way he was having the kind of conversations he needed to have with the Taylors—especially Quinn’s dad—surrounding him.

He would get this taken care of. He just hoped he didn’t have to take a stand on the wrong side of the line—the line opposite from where Quinn would undoubtedly stand.

H
er mouth tasted
like a skunk had died in it. The sharp stabbing pain in her head wasn’t any better.

Ouch.

How much had she drunk last night?

Lord. She hadn’t done anything too embarrassing, had she? In front of James?

She searched her hazy memories, despite the pain it took for her to concentrate, knowing that there was something there… They’d played the game, done some dancing… She was pretty certain she hadn’t done any table dancing. What was it?

Oh, right.

She’d practically admitted to her boss that she’d been thinking about kissing him.

She brought her arm over her face, trying to block the memory. Too late. And had she really flirted with him like that? All she could do was pray that he understood she was only kidding. That’s all.

Quinn rolled to her side, her stomach roiling up in protest. But she’d already emptied it hours ago in a move that had her barely making it to the toilet in time, then somehow managed to pull out her contacts, and kicked her jeans off and returned to bed, bare-legged.

Another memory was niggling at her. She’d been lying in bed, her eyes growing heavy and she’d said…

Shi-it.

Something about how James was going to make some lucky girl really happy one day.
Really, really happy.

What a bonehead.

There was a knock at her door and she froze in horror. What if it was James? What was she going to say to him after last night? How could she face him—especially if she looked half as bad as she felt?

She bolted up, moaning against the sudden movement while she grabbed her glasses off the nightstand and put them on.

But she didn’t have anything to worry about as the door swung open and her sister stood there, looking tired but at least human. Sabrina’s hair was damp, and her face was flushed, leaving Quinn with a sinking suspicion that her sister had probably used all the hot water for the next half hour at least. Great.

“You decent?” Sabrina asked before coming in and shutting the door behind her. She was bearing a mug of coffee and a pack of saltine crackers that she carried over before sitting on Quinn’s bed. She took a couple crackers and handed the rest of the package to Quinn, who sat up and eagerly bit into half of one.

The dry saltiness of the crackers was just what she needed to calm her stomach, which was a relief considering how much she had to do today. She reached for the coffee. “Okay, so on a scale of one to ten, how much would you say I humiliated myself last night in front of James?”

Her sister chuckled. “You were fine. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Not that bad? That doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.” She hesitated. “How’s he doing? Have you seen him?”

“James? Oh, he left before I was up. Mom said he was planning on finding somewhere with Wi-Fi and decent cell service so he could take care of a few things.”

James was already gone? A sense of sadness and disappointment gripped her. “Do you know if he was coming back?” He could be already heading to the airport again and off to Cabo without so much as a good-bye.

Her sister grinned. “I believe that was the impression Mom had. Quinn…do you like this guy?”

“James? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my boss.” She took a sip of the hot brew before setting it down on her nightstand, careful to keep her gaze diverted.

“Yeah, he is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t like him. You do like him, don’t you?”

Quinn sank back into the pillow. “It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t. A relationship with my boss is out of the question—that is, if I want to keep my job, a job that has nearly cleared out all the medical bills, with just another couple of months to go. And can you imagine the sly, gloating grins I’d get from all those managers if they found out we were anything more than professional? Any credibility I’ve gained as a respectable attorney and counselor would fly out the door. I’d become a punch line. Then I’m forgetting another important fact. Whether I like James or not does not mean that he likes me—at least not that way. And having seen the women he has liked, I think it’s safe to say he never would.”

Sabrina scrunched her face up. “Don’t sell yourself short like that. You are the real deal, the whole package, and James or anyone would be lucky to have
you
. You’re smart and beautiful, loving and kind and generous. Not to mention that you have the most amazing sister anyone could ever ask for.”

“Oh, sure, if you mean a sister who likes to put you in really uncomfortable situations. Such as getting me to admit I’ve ever thought about wanting to kiss my boss. You knew I used to like my night manager at Friday’s. And now James probably thinks I was talking about him.”

Sabrina grinned unapologetically. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you said it was him, after all. It just adds a little more mystery.”

“Girls?” they heard their mom call. “I have breakfast ready.”

Oh, dear Lord. Quinn was just getting her stomach settled. How was she going to handle her mom’s breakfast?

“I’d eat a few more crackers if I were you,” Sabrina said and took two more before getting off the bed. “And Quinn? One last thing. Try not to overthink this. I am sure that everything is going to work out as it should.”

With that, Sabrina headed out, leaving Quinn already working overtime to figure out what everything meant—in opposition to her sister’s direction.

Especially when she wondered what exactly James was thinking about right now.

* * *

J
ames climbed
out of the truck and grabbed the gifts he’d brought from town. Two dozen donuts of assorted varieties that were sure to appeal to a wide array of taste buds, including two custard-filled chocolate-glazed Bismarcks that he knew for a fact were Quinn’s favorite. Of course, he had no idea how she was faring this morning or if she had any appetite at all, but as he’d heard it, they’d be an improvement over anything her mom cooked up.

He headed up the walkway, smiling again as he had every time he thought about last night. She’d been…lovely. And funny. And extremely…enticing.

He just hoped that his instructions to Paul would buy Quinn a couple of days’ time to enjoy with her family. Instructions that, at least until Monday and Quinn returned to the office and had a chance to investigate the big blowup that had happened at the restaurant, no one was to take any actions or make any employment decisions about Lauralee. And most importantly, he’d asked that no one bother Quinn with this until after her vacation. The last thing she needed was to be thrown into this mess right now with the big event she’d been planning for tonight.

He owed it to her to let her at least enjoy this moment with her family without any distractions.

At the front door, he knocked, unsure of the etiquette of entering someone’s private residence when he was an invited guest.

Quinn’s mom appeared a minute later. “James. You don’t have to knock. You’re a guest in our home. Come in.”

It was hard to miss the acrid smell of burnt bacon as he stepped inside. “Thank you, Cindy. And these are for you.” He brandished a bouquet of flowers. “I understand today’s your thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

She appeared taken aback for a minute, and then her eyes swam with tears as she took them. “Why, if that’s not the sweetest thing. Thank you,” she said and continued inside as he wiped his feet on the rug and followed behind her to the great room.

“Quinn should be out in a minute. She just finished her shower. I’m afraid we already ate breakfast, but I could fix you up a plate if you’re hungry.”

“No, but thank you. I ate something at the coffee shop in town.” Something he’d made sure to do after the warnings of the woman’s daughters. “In fact, I had hoped to save you from having to go out of your way to make breakfast by picking up some donuts for everyone.”

“You didn’t have to do that. Well, I’m sure that we’ll manage to eat a few so they won’t go to waste. I hope you got everything arranged that you needed to in town. And was there any word about your plane?”

“Actually…” he started. But at that moment, Quinn entered the room in a soft cream-colored sweater and jeans that hugged every curve, looking so fresh and bright and lovely that it was all he could do not to just stand there grinning like a star-struck teen. Her face was bare of any makeup other than a faint gloss on her lips, and he was reminded how young she really was despite her attempts to seem more mature.

The only evident sign of her overindulgence the night before was a wince when the bright sunlight streaming in from the large lakefront windows hit her face, and she squinted her eyes against the intrusion.

“Quinn, good morning,” he said and grinned as scenes from the night before ran once again through his mind. Particularly the way she’d glanced up at him so wistful and sweet as she told him he was going to make some girl really happy.

No, as she’d put it, really, really happy.

She blushed, barely able to meet his gaze. “Morning.”

“I hope that shower helped refresh you,” her mom said, unaware of any undercurrents between them. “Oh, and James brought us some donuts, although I’m not sure if you’ll want one since I know how sick you were at breakfast—”

She practically lunged for them. “No, I think I’ve got my appetite back. A little,” she added hastily before changing the subject. “I caught the tail end of your conversation. Something about your plane?”

“Bad news, I’m afraid. The delivery of that part has been delayed until later this afternoon, so there’s a possibility I might not be able to leave today after all. My pilot assures me we’ll definitely have wheels up by morning at the latest.”

“What’s this?” Quinn’s dad said, lumbering in. He had to have heard and clearly didn’t appear that excited about it. “You can’t get your plane up?”

James hoped that wasn’t a guarded reference to anything other than his plane. “I’m afraid so.”

“That’s quite all right,” Quinn’s mother said, ignoring her husband’s grunt of dismay. “You’re more than welcome to stay here. It’s not a bother to us at all. In fact, just see what James was sweet enough to bring me this morning.” She held her bouquet up. “Wasn’t that thoughtful of him? He’d heard it was our anniversary and wanted to do something nice. Lord, I don’t know when’s the last time anyone ever sent me flowers. They’re just beautiful.”

From the glower James was receiving, Quinn’s father wasn’t as excited about the gift.

“Look, Dad,” Quinn said, opening the box of donuts. “James also brought donuts for everyone.” She held up a thick bear claw that James had been hoping to snag for himself. “Here. Your favorite.”

“Actually, I was kind of saving that one for m—” James started.

The old man stepped forward and took it. “Great,” he said and sank his teeth into the doughy softness as he met James’s gaze and smiled. “Thanks. Well, I’m going to head to the lake. Get a little fishing in.”

“Fishing?” James asked, still chilled to the bone from the frigid temperature outside. “You mean, like, ice fishing?”

Mr. Taylor stared at him like he was a simpleton. “What else kind of fishing did you think when the lake’s froze over?”

“Sorry, it just surprised me. I’m familiar with the sport, of course, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who actually…did it.”

“I have a wonderful idea,” Quinn’s mom said, and James had a sinking suspicion he knew exactly what that idea was. “Why don’t you take James along with you? He has the whole day again to kill, and I bet he’d just love to see what the draw is to the sport—although frankly, it still completely eludes me.”

“Actually, there was a matter—a business matter that I needed to discuss with Quinn—”

“Wait. Isn’t this her vacation time?” Quinn’s dad asked accusingly. “You’re trying to talk business when she’s home on vacation?”

James felt a moment of panic and swept his gaze toward Quinn in the hopes of some sort of rescue. A fisherman he was not in the best landscape. But in this temperature? He suppressed a shudder.

“I think fishing sounds like a great idea,” Sabrina said, appearing out of nowhere. “James, what do you say? You and Dad can spend some time together while Quinn and I take Mom out for a little girl time at the salon.”

Seriously? What had he ever done to Sabrina? He looked almost pleadingly at Quinn, waiting for the big excuse, the last-minute save that she usually came through with for him.

“I think…” Quinn said finally, “that sounds like a great idea. If James is up for it, of course.”

Everyone was staring at him now. Quinn’s mother with an expectant smile, Sabrina and Quinn with sly smiles, enjoying this far too much, whereas Mr. Taylor glared at James like he was a leper invited to take a bath with him.

James didn’t see many choices here.

He forced a smile. “Would love to.”