5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Avery
Spencer Sullivan, The Grump, is a man I'm very familiar with. This Spencer is an enigma. The coffee I understand. But flowers? That caveman routine that, let's be honest, made my panties wet? That soul-melting kiss? None of that matches the surly boss I've worked for the last three months. Then, just as I start to fall under the spell of this new Spencer, he offers me an obscene raise with two extra weeks of vacation.
Bam . Old Spencer.
Of course, he's doing this to keep the secretary he knows. Switching to the unknown in the middle of a big project is almost asking for trouble. I thought that kiss signaled that he liked me, when all he was doing was testing out my willingness to stay.
Afterward, he bundled me into my coat, and we walked the short distance to Lane's lodge so he could talk to the foreman. I can't call it a cabin when it's almost ten thousand square feet. It's beautiful with its soaring ceilings and picture windows letting in all the natural light. Despite their earlier argument, I'm sure Mr. Lane will be very happy. It suits his grandiose style. I prefer something a little simpler. Maybe a cozy cabin with three or four bedrooms tucked away in the trees where it's peaceful.
It's so beautiful here. Puffy clouds drift across the sky, and I can just see the small town of Hope Peak below. Birds swoop into the trees surrounding us and a layer of snow blankets the ground. I huddle deeper into my coat, pulling my scarf closer. Spencer and the foreman stand a few feet away, overseeing the masonry being added to the house.
“Avery?” I turn to see Travis, one of the tile workers, approaching. “Should you be outside of the trailer while the sun is out? Won't you turn to ash?”
Vampire jokes? I guess I don't get out enough. I smile sweetly. “Fresh blood protects me. Come closer. I'm feeling peckish.”
He laughs. “Any time you call, sweet thing.”
A dark shadow falls over us and I feel warmth against my back. Spencer's scent wraps around me right before I feel his hand on my hip.
“She's not calling,” he growls.
Travis blanches, his nervous gaze bouncing to mine, then down to Spencer's hand. “Sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I didn't realize—”
“See Sam about the tile changes, then get to work. I don't pay you to stand around flirting with my assistant.”
Travis scurries off. I turn to glare at Spencer, but he's not looking at me. His dark glower follows the man until he reaches the foreman.
“What was that about? He was saying hi.”
His eyes glitter with something I can't define when he looks down at me. “Then he can do so respectfully. Let's get back to the office so you can warm up.”
“Why did you want me out here, anyway?”
“I'm not leaving you alone where clients and workmen can accost you.”
This man is unhinged. He scowls at every man on the job site that looks at me as we make our way back. After he practically threw his primary client out earlier and barked at Travis, I should be pissed. I cross my arms over my chest where my nipples have hardened into points. From the cold. I am not turned on by my grumpy, overly protective boss. No way.
He marches us back up the steps and into the blessed heat of the office. I hang up my coat and scarf, then go to the little kitchenette. “Coffee?”
“No.” There's a beat of silence, then, “I thought the raise might give you some breathing room,” he grumbles.
“It would.”
“Then why won't you take it?”
“I need to buy more coffee pods. We're almost out.”
“I don't care about the coffee. Answer my goddamn questions. I kissed you. I offered you money. What more do you want? A house? A car?”
My jaw drops and I turn to face him. “I don't want to be offered money for a kiss! Or bought off with a... a house.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I'm not for sale, you jerk!” I throw a coffee pod at him and stomp outside. The best kiss of my life turned out to be a negotiation tactic so I wouldn't quit. New. Low.
“What the fuck?” He catches up to me and spins me around to face him. “I'm not buying your kisses, sweetheart. If you aren't giving them freely, I don't want them.”
“You don't want to lose your secretary at a difficult time.”
“I don't want to lose you .”
How is that not the exact same thing? I throw my hands up. “I annoy you in the mornings with my stupid chatter and trying to feed you muffins you don't even like. You grumble about the organized files and email me instead of talking to me. You don't like me, Mr. Sullivan . Why are you so intent on keeping me around?”
“Because despite the fact that you're goddamn gorgeous and too young for me, you're all I've thought about for three months, Avery. I shouldn't. I've been down this road before. I know where it leads. Somehow, I still can't help myself. The thought of not seeing you every day, it gutted me. Opened a chasm in my chest that only you can fill.”
The more he talks, the angrier he sounds. Yet he's saying all the things I've wanted to hear for months. “Spencer.” I reach for him, but he steps back, as if the contact would burn him.
Pain etches his face as he stares at me. His voice sounds hollow when he says, “I let it happen again. I'm a goddamn fool.” He strides away, heading for his truck.
I have to run to catch up. Damn, it's cold. I should have grabbed my jacket for this argument. “Wait.”
He yanks open the truck door, then turns to face me.
“What did you let happen again?”
“Nothing important. I'll be gone the rest of the day.”
Something tells me this is extremely important. I grip his jacket. “I don't want you to go.”
“You don't want to stay, Avery.”
I smack his chest. “Because I'm trying to protect myself! I like you too much, and it hurts that you don't feel the same way.”
He captures my hand in his and holds it to his chest. His heart thunders beneath my fingertips.
“You think I don't want you? Avery, you're all I want, even when I know it's wrong.”
“Why is it wrong? I don't care about the age difference or that you're my boss.”
He grips my arms and turns us, pinning me against his truck with his body. He shifts his hips, and I feel his hard length against my belly. Wetness floods my core.
“It's wrong because I don't want you as my assistant. I want you forever, and that scares the shit out of me.”
I clench my fists in his shirt, drawing deep breaths of his clean scent. He smells so good. “It scares me too. But I want you.”
Spencer tilts my chin up and his lips find mine. The kiss is desperate, urgent. He kisses my cheeks, my eyes, my neck. “I need to get you out of the cold. Somewhere more private for this conversation.”
I nuzzle his neck. Need pulses through my body. “Yes. Private.”
He scoops me into his arms, kicks the truck door closed, and carries me straight into his office. Shoving some files onto the floor, he sets me down on his desk. The next kiss is hard and hungry. Breathless.
“Someone could walk in,” I murmur against his mouth.
Spencer curses. He strides to the door, slams it closed, and turns the lock. His hand lingers on the doorknob, and I sense reason trying to return.
No. I want this too much. I wiggle my sweater dress out from underneath my hips and pull it over my head, revealing my lacy black bra and panties.
He watches my movements, gaze drifting over my body and back up. “Jesus.” His eyes narrow when he sees my hair. Then he's prowling toward me, intent written in every hard line of his body.
I clench my thighs, waiting for his next move. Waiting to feel the strength I see.
Spencer cups my head and pulls my mouth to his. His lips cover mine, licking, nibbling, claiming them. Then he spears his hands into my hair, releasing the pins. I hear the tink, tink, tink as they bounce off his desk. He wraps a thick strand of my hair in his fist and draws me closer. “Is this what you want, Avery?”