4. Indie
INDIE
The fact that Kiernan was my new boss was shocking, to say the least. I knew that working alongside him would be torture and that it would be best to keep him at arm’s length. As…everything as he was, I loved my job and couldn’t let the attraction I felt toward him interfere with my work. I’d already lost one job I’d loved. If we spent any amount of time together and things went south... I just couldn’t risk that happening again. Us becoming involved and subsequently going through a horrible breakup that resulted in me losing this job would be my worst nightmare come to life.
I had formed a solid plan within my mind to only communicate with him regarding my work, and to keep things as short as possible. But, there I was—only one day after forming this solid plan—being forced to reach out to him for help.
And while it was kind of work-related—I needed to be able to get there—it would put me in closer proximity with him than I trusted myself to be.
It was unavoidable because the universe seemed to be desperate to fuck everything up for me. I knew how to change a flat, but I didn’t want to deal with it first thing in the morning or be late for work, so I needed a ride.
Fingers tapping against the keyboard, I cringed at the question I had no choice but to ask before finally hitting the ”send” button. I collapsed back onto the couch, rubbing the sides of my neck anxiously.
Indie
Any chance you could give me a ride this morning?
Kiernan
That depends. Any chance you could give me a ride this morning?
Great.I don’t know why I expected him to make this easy for me. For us. He seemed like the professional type, but there was really no denying the pull we felt toward one another.
Indie
All those in favor of forming an HR dept. to which I can file sexual harassment complaints say aye.
Indie
Aye.
Kiernan
Nay.
Kiernan
Car trouble?
Indie
You could say that.
You could also say that I stayed up half the night playing over scenarios in my head that each ended with me being thoroughly fucked. At work. By my new boss… but I had to pass on divulging that little tidbit of information for now. Hopefully forever.
I was also not divulging that my flat tire looked suspiciously like someone had stabbed it with a knife because I didn’t want to bring anyone else into the fucking ridiculous situation I’d gotten myself into while trying to date again. It was just once; a sad attempt I’d made a few months prior, hoping to force Kiernan from my mind once and for all.
And it resulted in a less-than-desirable outcome.
Kiernan
Send me your location.
Kiernan
Be there in 15.
Fifteen minutes was nowhere near long enough for me to prepare myself for being trapped in a car with him, no matter how short the drive.
I would need a lobotomy to survive this job now.
Kiernan embalms people for a living, surely he could figure out how to do one.
Images of him shoving an ice pick up my nostril played in my mind when the low rumble of an engine echoed outside my cracked window, signaling the arrival of a car in the parking lot of my apartment complex.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way downstairs and outside, the cool morning air hitting my face as I stepped into the sunlight. I opened the door of his sedan and slid into the passenger seat, greeted by the familiar scent of leather and his cologne.
Great, now I’d have to stop breathing too.
He was gorgeous, dressed in his usual business casual with those sexy tattoos peeking out from beneath his collar and sleeves. His hair was still damp from his morning shower. I was maybe drooling a little.
Two iced coffees sat in the cup holders.
I chucked my bag onto the floor, cleared my throat, and reached for the one closest to me, taking a long drink before speaking.
“Fuck, I love you…” I trailed off.
“Excuse?” Kiernan replied.
I gave him a flat look over the top of my cup. “I was talking to the coffee.”
“Oh,” he said, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking spot.
“Thanks for coming to get me. We’d have both been fucked today if you hadn’t.”
“Anytime. What’s going on with your car?” he asked.
“Mmmm… I dunno,” I lied.
“Want me to take a look at it?”
“No.”
“Indie,” he said playfully. “Are you faking car troubles in hopes that you’ll be able to get me in the back seat of mine?”
No, but under any other circumstance, that didn’t sound too far outside the realm of things I’d be willing to do to get in your pants.
“No playful banter,” I told him. “Keep it professional, big boss man.”
He cleared his throat. “Right. Got it. Professional.” He made a show of straightening in his seat and putting both hands on the steering wheel. “So you think I’m big?”
I groaned, dropping my head back against the headrest.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was kidding. No more.”
“Thank you.”
“But, really. I can look at your car if you need a not-very-knowledgeable-or-professional opinion.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I said.
There wasn’t much to figure out. I would have to call someone to come change the flat and shell out the obscene amount of money it would cost for a new tire and a house call.
I was lost in my thoughts as the car lurched, jostling both of us. A loud thud and sudden drop in speed told me we were probably about to have to deal with the second flat tire of the day. What fucking luck.
Kiernan cursed under his breath as he pulled off the side of the road to see what he’d run over. Once the car was in park, we both climbed out of the vehicle. When my door slammed shut, the sound of the car locking caught me by surprise.
It was still running.
He paused, catching my eye over the top of the car. “Please tell me the car didn’t just lock itself with my keys in the ignition.”
“Uhm. Maybe?” Definitely.
He jerked at the handle. “This is fantastic.”
“How does that even happen?” I asked.
As he opened his mouth to reply, the pitter-patter of rain began to drum against the pavement. I looked down at the white top I’d chosen to wear and sighed. Of course. This day couldn’t get any better.
Kiernan looked at me and quirked an eyebrow. “I guess rain is kind of our thing, seeing as I chased you in it not very long ago.”
“We don’t have a thing,” I replied grumpily, staring down at the very flat tire.
We totally had a thing.For him, I very much had a thing.
Why was this day full of stupid fucking flat tires?
He took off his tweed jacket and draped it over me. His crisp white dress shirt was quickly soaked through, clinging to his toned chest as the rain poured down around us.
Fuck me.
I stared helplessly through the window, the keys taunting me from the ignition. Of course, his vehicle would have chosen this moment to malfunction.
I pulled the jacket tighter around me. “Should we call a locksmith?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said, “And I will once we make it back to my house.”
“What? Back to your house? How are we getting there?”
“We’re walking, sweetheart.”
I stared at him like he’d grown an extra head. We were at least three miles away and the rain was now coming down in buckets. My eyes burned from my mascara melting off and dripping into them.
“Unless your phone isn’t also still in the car. Because mine is.”
It was, and he could see my answer written all over my face.
A little over half a mile later, we’d made our way into the part of town where the roads were more rural and the shoulder disappeared. With each step, my boots squelched and sucked at the mud, leaving deep imprints in the earth. The wetness seeped through my socks, causing blisters to form on my ankles and calves. I winced with every movement and began to limp.
Kiernan noticed. “Are you good?”
Absolutely I wasn’t.“Yep. Fine.”
We walked in silence for a few more steps. “Indie. You’re limping. Are you hurt?”
I pulled his jacket tighter around me. “Nope,” I said, popping the P dramatically. It wasn’t like I had any other choice but to walk, so I wasn’t about to complain the whole way. We were both miserable and getting wetter by the minute.
“Your shoes?” he pressed.
“I’m not limping.” I insisted, clearly limping.
He stopped and grabbed my arm, pulling me to a halt before he crouched down in front of me, his hands firmly on my hips as he forced me onto his back. I didn’t have time to protest before he looped his arms through my legs, holding me tightly against him.
His scent was intoxicating. Every step he took bumped my body against his strong back, making me hot despite the chill of the rain. My cheeks flushed. I was glad he couldn’t see my face.
I thought about wiggling away from him, but I didn’t have much fight in me at this point. My feet felt so much better already.
“How do you know you’re not feeling all sorry for me and carrying me like a princess to our destination when I just couldn’t walk straight from being fucked too hard last night or something?” I asked, toying with his glasses that were peeking out of his drenched shirt pocket.
A muscle feathered in his jaw and I wondered what else I could say to make it happen again.
“You weren’t walking funny when I picked you up.”
“Hmm. True. My life’s not that fun or interesting.” Understatement of the century. I wasn’t about to tell him I hadn’t been with anyone since him. “It’s the shoes.”
He huffed a laugh. I felt him relax a fraction before readjusting me on his back and holding me tighter against him.
I resisted the urge to lay my head on his shoulder. I could probably get away with it. Use the excuse that I was just trying to keep the rain out of my eyes. But being this close to him was dangerous enough without me trying to cuddle him.
It was nice, regardless.
The remaining miles passed in no time. I was super impressed he didn’t seem to be out of breath when he maneuvered me around his body and set me on the step at the back door of the funeral home. I knew this door led into the living quarters, and I was suddenly anxious to be in his space, and a little sad knowing this would be the first time I visited and Sammy wouldn’t be there.
His tattooed hands came up to cup my face and he ran his thumbs under each of my eyes, wiping away the mascara staining my cheeks. The act caught me by surprise, but it was over quicker than my brain could even register what was happening.
He stepped around me to unlock the door. “Let’s get you inside. You’re shivering.”
Was I?
Because my insides were on fire.
As I entered the kitchen, a wave of cozy warmth washed over me. He gently removed my drenched jacket and hung it on the back of a wooden chair near the table. My shirt was translucent at this point and I pretended I didn’t notice that his eyes flicked to my chest for a split second.
There was that muscle twitch in his jaw again.
“I’ll grab some of my sweats and a t-shirt for you and you can warm up in the shower while I call a locksmith.” I tried to picture him in sweats and couldn’t seem to conjure an image. He was always dressed so neatly, but I wanted to see him otherwise.
A pang of anxiety hit me when I realized his car was sitting on the side of the road still running. Hopefully, he could get it taken care of quickly.
He returned with a stack of neatly folded clothes and signaled for me to follow him. As we passed through the living room, my eyes caught on the painting sitting on the mantle above the fireplace.
Irises.
My curiosity stirred, but I forced my attention back to following him into the bathroom.
I was reading far too much into that. He’d quoted Van Gogh to me the first night we met. It was nothing more than a coincidence.
But when he left me to it and I finally stepped under the hot spray of the shower, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander back to it.
And hope.