Chapter Four
Four
He wasn’t a monk by a long shot, but Marshall couldn’t remember when he’d ached this much for just a kiss. Tally stood a simple arm’s reach away, beside him at the kitchen table. Close enough to touch, to hold, to haul against him for what he knew would be a kiss to remember.
If she weren’t his employee, he wouldn’t hesitate to grip her shoulders and draw her to his chest. He didn’t need the actual kiss to know that their attraction was combustible.
Maybe if he put the feelings on hold until after she finished working for him and his cast was off...
Except this giving, genuine woman who rocked sick babies in her spare time.
.. She was dangerous. She was the sort who could crawl under a man’s skin and into his thoughts.
He couldn’t forget his need for control of himself because of his history with alcohol.
He was used to attractions he could manage, and this felt deeper.
Like something that could rattle the control he needed to maintain now more than ever.
He skimmed his fingers along the top of her hand gripping the chair. She bit her bottom lip, swaying closer.
“Tally,” he said, his thumb stroking once, twice before he squeezed her hand and pulled back. “Thank you for your hard work today. It’s tough for me to admit, but the extra help will be welcome with the holidays.”
Her shoulders braced, and she became professional again. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for. Thank you again for the time off to go to the hospital today. I’m going to fold laundry before turning in for the night.”
Unable to tear his eyes away from her, he watched Tally walk away. The sweet curve of her hips held his gaze and made him ache with thoughts of taking her up to his bed. Thoughts of exploring her body and discovering what made her sigh with pleasure.
But if he intended to keep his hard-won self-respect—and he did—he needed to keep his hands to himself. He walked a fine line these days and needed to keep it that way. Tougher to do on some days than others. And today was one of the toughest. Marshall rubbed along his cast over his aching arm.
His mouth watered for a taste of Tally as much as it watered for a drink. An out-of-control feeling he couldn’t risk.
No matter how much he wanted her, if he didn’t hold on to his sobriety, his life would be worthless.
The next morning, Tally stifled a yawn behind her wrist as she stepped into the storage room, her eyes gritty. But she wanted to get an early start cataloging the Christmas decorations and discussing with Marshall what he wanted where.
She was finding it tougher than she’d expected to sleep under the same roof as her boss. The thwarted kiss had given her such dreams through the night—awake and asleep, her body ached with unfulfilled desire. He wasn’t the kind of man one forgot easily.
And spending the day discussing holiday festivities wasn’t going to help her rest any better, with the scent of him imprinting itself in her memory.
He was sexy and thoughtful and more than a little mysterious. Although she had secrets of her own to keep, and serious issues to put to rest.
Though Marshall’s eyes were usually unreadable, holding a sultry mystery, his storage room provided a surefire way to get to know the man behind the smolder.
High windows allowed bright white sunlight to settle on the shelves.
Tally peered into the various containers, taking a mental inventory of his stockpile of supplies.
It looked like he needed more fishing gear, judging by the depleted tackle box.
Tally would make sure she ordered that—as a part of her job, of course.
She could best serve the house when she had a sense of how things were stored.
As silly as it seemed, Tally could tell a lot about a person from their methods of organization and storage.
This always seemed like a backdoor entrance into the minds of her clients.
Once she understood the patterns and system of a particular house, she became more efficient. Learned what was most valuable.
And she couldn’t deny, the need for that knowledge was especially intense around this man. He intrigued her, and that was dangerous. He was the last person she should get involved with. Perhaps she was seeking to learn more about him to find reasons not to like him. That would certainly be helpful.
She hauled her attention off the man and back to the task at hand. If she intended to keep this job, she needed to do her job.
Today’s excursion into the storage room had a specific purpose—the transformation of the house into a winter wonderland. To make this place enchanting, Tally needed to see the decorations.
Reading from an inventory list could only spark her imagination so much. She’d always been the visual sort.
A green bin with a clear lid beckoned her; maybe it was the way the light splintered over it.
Tally glanced into the box. Christmas ornaments and decorations were in neat arrangement.
She looked at the row of green boxes with clear lids, all of them full of Christmas decorations. Pieces of Marshall’s past.
More than a little curious, she pulled the first box off the shelf.
Opening the lid, she gently touched the carefully arranged decorations, so much more orderly than the hodgepodge storage from her childhood.
But she’d treasured those all the same, looking forward to every year when her mother would add another fairy-tale ornament to her collection.
Feet shuffled behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder made the breath catch in her throat as her so-very-sexy boss wandered into the room.
An easy grin passed over his lips, sparking those bright eyes to life and making Tally’s heart pound as her body ached to be closer to his.
He closed the distance between them, leaning over the box to finger a reindeer ornament.
Spice and musk filled her nostrils as she breathed in, all too aware of the inches between them.
Sleep wasn’t going to be any easier tonight.
He lifted the ornament out of the box. “We’re an outdoors kind of family—camping, riding, kayaking, fishing. Even in the winter. And the winter’s amazing because there are even more things to do, like skiing and ice-skating.”
He shot a glance to his cast, annoyance flaring in the way his jaw flexed.
Picking up a horse-and-cowboy ornament, she nodded at his healing arm. “Patience. You won’t be in that cast forever.”
“I’m counting the days until it’s off.”
She shot him a grin, looking over at him through her lashes. “That eager to be rid of me, are you?”
His hand returned to the box. She couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers lingered on an elaborate ornament, a kayak sporting a father and a son with fishing reels.
The ornament appeared smaller in his broad palm as he examined it for a moment before he spoke again.
“You’ve proven to be quite indispensable around here already.
As you’ve noted before, this is a big place that hasn’t been getting the proper attention. ”
“Is that a permanent job offer?”
And if it was, why did that possibility unsettle her?
His eyebrow arched, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Is that an acceptance?”
Even if she could take his offer seriously, she couldn’t imagine herself staying here and remaining just an employee. The chemistry was too strong.
She was better off holding firm to her plan for short-term employment in hopes of finding long-term peace. “You’re just speaking out of holiday generosity. Besides, your stepmother hired me.”
He slid a bin from the bottom shelf and pulled off the lid.
She smiled her thanks and sat on the floor beside it, looking at the hand-carved wood nativity scene. She tugged her phone from her jeans pocket and pulled up a Christmas playlist. Instrumental classics with a jazz twist softly filled the room.
Creating an unmistakable intimacy.
She was careful to keep an arm’s length between them. She picked up the cradle, considering where she’d put this beautiful piece. Perhaps by the mantel? Above the stockings.
It was too easy to imagine what it would be like to decorate for a family—for real.
“What were Christmases like for you growing up?” she found herself asking in spite of her better judgment.
“Noisy. Busy. Much like this one will be here. We lived here then.” He peeled back another lid, a whiff of cinnamon wafting free from leftover potpourri. “Dad believed in bringing us up with down-to-earth values.”
“Does everyone usually meet here?” Would they be comparing what she put together with Christmases past?
He looked down, his thumb rubbing over the kayak ornament. “We grew up here. Once Dad built the new place, I opted to keep this place going, expanding the stables with a horseback riding business and stud farm.”
“And even though this is your home, they’re using it as a staging ground for the bachelor auction.”
And he would no doubt be a main attraction. She clenched the plastic bin, holding back the urge to trace the line of his bristly jaw.
He rolled his eyes, a defeated sigh huffing free. “The bachelor auction wasn’t my idea. But I’m just doing my part to support the family business.”
“You got guilted,” she guessed.
“Pretty much,” he confirmed with a wry smile. “It’ll be good to have you here to help. Although of course you should have Christmas Eve and Christmas off to spend with your own family.”
His words chilled the heat stinging through her, bringing thoughts of her father. Of how her first Christmas after his death she’d stayed in a bad relationship rather than be alone. Of her child celebrating Christmas without her.
“I don’t have family to visit. All the more reason I’m perfect for this job. I can see you through the holidays until you have full use of your arm.”
“No family at all. I’m so sorry.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly before sitting on the floor beside her.