In Love With Her Boss

Josh shot the other man a look. “Gee, thanks.”

He grinned. “Misery loves company and all that. So tell Dear Andy the problem. Is the lady married? Does she have a boyfriend?”

“No.” As he’d walked her to her car that first night, Josh had wondered that himself. But she’d said she hadn’t come to Whitehorn to be with a man. He ran a hand over his damp hair. “Andy, you know when a woman’s interested, right?”

“Hmm.” The other man reached for the dumbbells he’d dropped. “Well, I’ve made my share of blunders over the years, but I’d say that now I’m pretty good at distinguishing between a smile and a, well, smile.”

“And how old are you?” Josh asked.

“Thirty-five.”

Younger than Josh, which meant he couldn’t rule out that pre-midlife crisis condition.

“Geez, Josh.” Andy stopped lifting again. “You look serious. What the hell’s the matter?”

Josh shook his head. “I—”

Andy’s low whistle interrupted him. “Wow. Would you look at that.” With his chin, he gestured toward the glass wall in front of them, the wall through which they could see the basketball courts and the running track surrounding them.

A woman was stretching in the far lane of one curve. “‘That,”’ said Josh. “Is precisely my problem. Lori Hanson, my temporary receptionist.”

“Oh, buddy.” Andy gazed on him with pity. “I don’t blame you. She looks like trouble.” He switched his gaze back to the track, where Lori was now starting her run. “Uh-oh. Wouldn’t you know it, Wily Rick Weber is on the scent.”

Ahead of Lori on the track, a lean, curly-haired man paused and bent over, as if his shoe needed retying. It was only too obvious to Josh that the other runner had noticed Lori and was waiting for her to catch up to him.

Andy snorted. “Is he always the first to sniff out new prey, or what?”

Josh lifted the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat out of his eyes, then leaned forward. How would Lori respond to the ever-charming Wily Rick?

She didn’t.

Even though Rick timed it so that he started jogging again just as Lori reached him, even though he smiled whitely, oozing friendliness that Josh could feel even through the plate glass, Lori didn’t even glance at the other man. As a matter of fact, she picked up her pace, causing Wily to have to leap forward in order to keep up with her.

His mouth moved. Probably saying something witty, Josh thought. Something far more interesting than “Ms. Hanson, find me the Feeney file, please.” But she responded to Rick with even fewer syllables and less animation that she did when Josh spoke.

Surprise crossed Rick’s oh-so-slick and handsome face, and he slowed a bit, letting Lori get ahead. Strike one for Wily.

“Well,” Andy said. “Rick hasn’t bowled her over.”

“Neither have I,” Josh muttered.

And just like Josh himself, Rick didn’t find it easy to give up on Lori either. As Josh watched, the other man caught up with her again and tried to start another conversation. Her slight grimace made clear, to Josh anyway, that she didn’t appreciate Wily’s second attempt.

Josh stood up. “I’m going to take a few laps myself,” he told Andy.

The other man’s grin was knowing. “You do that. But be careful. I haven’t seen you chasing—I mean running—in a long time, old friend.”

Josh didn’t look back. He wasn’t chasing. He was going after Lori to make sure Wily wasn’t annoying her, not because of the apparently one-sided attraction he had for her. That attraction he was determined to put a lid on, because it would be hell on his brain and his business if it was allowed to simmer unchecked for the remainder of Lucy’s maternity leave.

Just as Josh jogged onto the track, Wily jogged off, a look of baffled disappointment on his face. He didn’t even acknowledge Josh’s two-fingered salute. It wasn’t often Rick struck out, and it looked as if it was going to take him some time to recover.

Josh was smiling when he caught up with Lori. He brushed off the niggling notion that his entire reason for joining her was now heading for the men’s showers. “Good morning,” he said.

She looked over at him, her eyes widening, then she trained her gaze back on the track in front of her. “Good morning, Mr. Anderson.”

“Josh.”

She made another of those maddening, absent hmms that she liked to torture him with.

“Well. How are you this morning?”

“Fine.” She didn’t look at him.

“I, um, thought I’d let you know that I’m stopping off at the Feeney site before I come into the office this morning.”

“All right.”

When he thought about it, maybe he should still bring up Rick and his attempts at flirtation. He hesitated, then plunged in, unable to come up with some way to ease into the subject. “I saw Rick talking to you,” he said.

“Who?”

“Wil—Rick Weber. The curly-haired guy who was running with you.”

“Oh. Him.”

The little breeze they generated running caused her peach scent to waft enticingly over Josh’s face. He tried not breathing through his nose. “He’s okay, but he has a reputation for two-timing.”

Now she looked at him, her expression bewildered. “Why would you tell me that?”

So I could feel my feet grow five sizes larger, Josh thought. But he went on doggedly. “I just thought you should know because…I, well… Well, he was hitting on you.”

“I’m not interested in him.”

“Good.” She shot him a look, and he hoped he didn’t look as satisfied as he felt. To cover it up, he cleared his throat and then forced himself to test the waters again. “But just in case you are interested in dating, I do know a few good men I could introduce you to.”

Did he imagine it, or was her face turning a shade of red that bespoke embarrassment, not exertion?

“I didn’t come to Whitehorn to meet men.”

“I didn’t say that you did,” Josh answered, plodding on with his offer. “But you’re a young woman. Certainly you’d like a social life. I have friends who—”

She shook her head. “Please, Josh. I don’t want to meet anybody. Please.”

The tone in her voice was urgent. Anxious.

Despite her discomfort, he had to admit he felt that satisfaction again. “Okay. Sure. No problem,” he answered.

“Josh.” She abruptly stopped running and he skidded to a halt beside her.

“What?” he asked.

Her chest moved up and down, her breaths still coming fast. Josh tried not to stare, focusing instead on her dark eyelashes that hid the expression in her eyes.

“I’d even be grateful,” she said, “if you’d…pass the word around the gym.”

Josh blinked at her. “Pass what word?”

Her shoulders hunched in an embarrassed sort of shrug. “I’ve…sworn off men for the moment, okay? I’m not eager to meet any, date any, become entangled with any.” She darted one swift look at him. “With anyone, no matter how…appealing.”

With him, she meant.

Then she dashed off in the direction of the women’s locker room, leaving Josh staring after her. Well, he thought. Finally, there was his answer. It wasn’t mixed signals. It wasn’t him misreading. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel the same attraction he did—she’d even implied she found him appealing. But the fact was, she’d sworn off men.

He could understand that. Appreciate it. Abide by it. For God’s sake, he hadn’t paid any but the most cursory attention to his own social life in the last five years.

And why she’d sworn off men was none of his business either.

Josh showered and dressed quickly, telling himself he was glad to have the Lori problem straightened out. It meant he could refocus his attention on business. That he could smother the attraction he felt for her because she wanted to smother it too.

He even managed a cheerful goodbye to the kid who manned the check-in desk as he left. Even when he encountered Lori at the door leading outside, his lightened mood didn’t change. Much.

He smiled at her as he held open the door. “I’ll be in around ten. You can get me on my cell phone, though.”

“The Feeney site,” she replied, stepping onto the concrete sidewalk, her gym bag in one hand.

The morning had grown colder in the hour he’d been working out. Lori’s second step found a patch of ice that had been a shallow puddle sixty minutes before. The sole of her shoe lost purchase, and Josh saw her heel slide out from under her.

Her free arm windmilled.

Without a second thought, a first, any thought at all, he reached out, sliding his arm around her waist. With a jerk, he swept her upright and against him.

She screamed.

Startled, Josh’s arm tightened. It wasn’t a shriek of surprise, or an I’m-about-to-fall squeal. It was—

She screamed again, fighting wildly against his arm.

Startled again, he let her go.

She whirled to face him, her face white, her eyes huge pools of blue fear.

Fear.

He remembered her reaction when he bumped into her on the running track Christmas Eve. He remembered her shrinking back against her car when he’d stepped close to her in the parking lot.

Her free hand lifted. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “I’m sorry. I was…”

“Scared?” he supplied.

Color rushed up from the collar of her coat to redden her cheeks. At least she didn’t look like she was seeing a ghost anymore. “Yes. But thanks for not letting me fall.”

“Anytime,” Josh replied. He wasn’t surprised when she hurried away from him, in the direction of her car. “Anytime,” he said again, staring after her retreating figure.

Of course, the next time he probably would let Lori fall. Because he couldn’t bear to frighten her again. And touching would. Getting close to her would. He was certain of that.

Because there was a terrible, sick feeling in his gut that told him exactly why Lori Hanson had sworn off men.

* * *

Lori bustled around the Anderson, Inc., office, grateful that Josh was stopping by the Feeney site before coming in. She needed the opportunity to recover her composure. She needed time to convince herself that right this minute Josh wasn’t booking his skittish temporary receptionist a rubber room.

She needed to believe he wasn’t aware that a man’s touch—any man’s touch—made her jump as if she’d been recently beaten.

Because that wasn’t the case. Her ex-husband hadn’t hit her in over two years.

Lori closed her eyes against those memories, thinking instead of Josh. As he’d saved her from falling, his big body had been warm against hers. He’d smelled of soap and cold Montana air. And though her heart had been pounding with its old, instinctive panic, there had been another feeling running counter to the fear. Feelings.

Interest. Curiosity. Excitement.

But that was just all the more confusing! She’d been honest with Josh when she’d said she’d sworn off men. Yet the truth was, when he’d brought up the idea of her socializing, of her dating, for a moment she’d wondered what it would be like to date him.

Of course, after her little panic attack outside the gym this morning, he probably couldn’t imagine fixing her up with someone, let alone himself. But that was fine. That was what she wanted. She wanted to do a good job as his receptionist, nothing more.

By the time Josh arrived from the Feeney site, she had her emotions back under control. As the door shut behind him, she scooped up the pile of pink slips that were his messages.

“Good morning,” she said, as if they hadn’t already encountered one another that day. “Your messages, Mr. Anderson.” She held them out.

He approached her desk. “Josh,” he countered, though his voice was mild. “You’re supposed to call me Josh.” When his large hand slid the papers from hers, their fingers didn’t touch.

She was glad. Though she’d promised herself to curb her jumpiness around him, her reactions weren’t always easy to control. Her breath, for example. As he hesitated in front of her, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

She swallowed, trying to meet his eyes without flushing. “Is…is everything okay?”

There was something different about Josh now, she noticed. His big body seemed stiller, calmer than before. Which only made her feel that much more gauche. “Did you want something?” she asked, when he didn’t say anything.

“No.” He smiled, that slow, wide, warm one that seemed to brighten the whole room. “Everything’s fine now.”

The rest of the morning echoed his words. For the first time they worked in an atmosphere of friendly harmony. He didn’t bark out assignments, she didn’t jump when he walked into the reception area. It was almost as if Josh had turned his personality on Low. While he couldn’t do anything to mitigate his massive size, she thought he’d somehow banked his normal forcefulness.

Their business relationship might just work out.

At noon, she retrieved from the refrigerator a salad she’d made at home and carried it to her desk. Whistling softly, Josh walked out of his office, his coat caught on two fingers.

He glanced over at her. “I’m off to—” His mouth turned down in obvious distaste. “That’s lunch?”

“Well, yes.” Looking down, she couldn’t stop from making her own face. When she’d made the salad that morning, the lettuce had already been half wilted. Now it looked like it had gone into a dead faint.

Josh shook his head. “Why don’t you come with me? We’ll find something better.”

“Oh, no,” she said instantly. Not when their business relationship was just getting established.

He hesitated. “C’mon, Lori. I know you said you didn’t want me to introduce you to any men, and I respect that. But I know some other people you might like to meet.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.” She drew her chair closer to the desk to make sure he got the message. “There’s the phones, the business…”

“The machine will take the calls and this is business,” he countered. “I’m going over to the Hip Hop Café to check the crew’s progress. I told you about that project, right? We’re rebuilding the restaurant after the arson fire last month. As the company’s receptionist, you should know the kinds of things we do. I’m meeting the owner there, Melissa North. I’ll introduce you. You’ll like her.”

Melissa North. Lori hoped her face didn’t betray her sudden eagerness. Melissa North. She weighed the prospect of meeting Melissa North against the danger of spoiling this very newfound peace with Josh by spending more time in his company.

As if he sensed her mental struggle, Josh used his own weapon. He smiled, that easy, patient, warm one. “Let’s go,” he said, nodding toward the door. “It’s business.”

Because it was business, Lori didn’t feel obligated to keep up a conversation on the short drive from the office to the heart of downtown Whitehorn. When Josh turned his big, black four-wheeler into a parking place, she was out of her seat and on the sidewalk before he had the emergency brake on. One business associate certainly didn’t expect another business associate to open her door for her and help her out, despite the long leap to the ground.

Because it was business, she kept her attention strictly on the discussion between Josh and the Hip Hop site foreman as they toured the reconstruction. The restaurant had burnt to the ground a few weeks before and the Anderson crew was just beginning to rebuild.

Though she didn’t understand all of the conversation, Lori was fascinated to learn that some time capsules had been found buried in the restaurant’s original foundation. When Josh bent over to inspect the cavity where they’d been discovered, his thigh-length parka rode up. It might not have been completely businesslike of Lori to notice the long muscles of his hamstrings or the tautness of his gluteus maximus muscles beneath his worn jeans, but it was natural, right? She had an interest in fitness.

By the time Josh straightened, she was perusing a set of plans unrolled on the hood of the foreman’s truck. All business.

Josh checked his watch. “Time to meet Melissa,” he said.

Lori looked up. “She’s not coming here?”

“We’re meeting her at the counter of the Big Sky Five & Dime.” His thumb jerked to the small variety store across the street. “She’s probably waiting for us.”

Lori’s heart hammered as she crossed the street in Josh’s wake. Now that the moment had come, she wondered if she should have stayed safely back at her desk after all. Melissa North.

At the door of the Big Sky Five & Dime, Josh turned to watch Lori’s reluctant progress. One of his eyebrows rose. “Something the matter?”

Taking a breath, she shook her head, then hurried her footsteps. Josh had witnessed enough of her craziness for one day. With a businesslike cloak, she’d hide from him her inner turmoil.

He held the door for her. “There’s a counter and a couple of booths at the back that have gained new life since the Hip Hop went out of commission.”

At a calm pace, Lori walked down the narrow aisles in the direction Josh indicated. Her gaze darted over the customers she encountered, though, her stomach clenching as she wondered if she would recognize Melissa.

As the smell of french fries and coffee grew stronger, Josh called from behind her, “Take a right.” Lori obeyed, coming upon a counter with five stools and beyond that, two four-person booths upholstered in red vinyl.

In the nearest booth a couple sat side-by-side. The woman laughed, and her dark hair slid away from her cheek as she lifted her face for the man’s brief kiss. Then he whispered something in her ear, and she turned her head toward Lori and Josh.

She looked beautiful, with fair skin and blue eyes. She looked happy and friendly.

She looked just as Lori had imagined her half sister might.

It was lucky that Josh stepped in to make the introductions, because Lori felt anything but businesslike as she met Melissa and Wyatt North. In seconds she was knee-to-knee with the other woman, though, as she and Josh took the seat on the other side of the booth.

Lori’s tongue remained knotted, so it was lucky, too, that it took some minutes to order their lunch—Josh told her the only substantial food offered was grilled cheese sandwiches—and get the Hip Hop details out of the way. By the time her plate was in front of her, Lori had relaxed a little.

When the men started talking about the arson investigation, Melissa grinned at her. “Would you be horribly offended if I snitched a french fry?” she asked.

“Oh. Oh, no.” Lori flushed and pushed the plate toward the center of the table. “I should have offered. Forgive me.”

“Done.” Melissa bit into the french fry with relish. “It’s the only thing they make nearly as good as the Hip Hop.”

Lori took up her own fry, but her stomach was too nervous to eat. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to your restaurant.”

Melissa shook her head. “Don’t get me started. Half the time I want to cry and the other half I want to strangle whoever did such a destructive thing.”

“They haven’t caught who did it?”

“No.” Melissa sighed, but then took another french fry and turned her attention to Lori. “So tell me about you.”

“I…” This wasn’t the time or place to blurt out the truth. Lori licked her lips. “I’m new to Whitehorn. As Josh said earlier, I’m his temporary receptionist.”

“He’s a good man,” Melissa said, then her gaze sharpened. “But you know that, right?”

Lori bit into her french fry so she could nod instead of talking.

“Still, it can’t be easy to settle someplace new,” Melissa went on. “Did you have a special reason for coming to Whitehorn?”

Lori swallowed. “I wanted to set down some roots.”

Melissa nodded, as if she understood. “I grew up in Whitehorn, and then my mother and I moved when I was a senior in high school. I spent the next few years mooning over Wyatt and doing what I had to come back.” She cocked her head. “But it was coming home for me. How did you even hear about Whitehorn?”

“My mother told me about it. She was from Whitehorn.”

One of Melissa’s dark eyebrows rose. “From here? Who is she?”

Lori didn’t think her mother’s name would mean anything to Melissa. Her mother had said that Charlie Avery, Lori and Melissa’s father, had been a philanderer, and that her parents had moved the family out of state as soon as she’d discovered she was pregnant. “Jill Hanson. The daughter of Roy and Jane Hanson. But they’re all gone now.”

“Oh.” Melissa’s face softened “I’m sorry. That must be lonely sometimes.” She reached out and covered Lori’s hand with her own.

Lori froze. Women didn’t send her into a panic, but she hadn’t felt comfortable with anyone’s touch in a long while. Because of the kind of marriage she’d had and the way she’d been on the move after it, she hadn’t had the opportunity to develop any kind of relationship that involved touching, not even something as casual but as considerate as this.

She stared at their joined hands, at the similar skin tone, at Melissa’s slender fingers that reminded her so much of her own. Tears burned the corners of her eyes.

“Lori?” Josh softly called her name.

Blinking, she turned her head toward his. Her breath caught. There was concern on his rugged, handsome face. Kindness.

Then something more. As she looked up at him, with her half sister Melissa’s hand still covering hers, Lori felt her heart open up, and she saw Josh watch it happen.

Warmth, trust, promise. Like petals, the feelings tentatively unfurled in her chest, a blossom taking its chance on a winter sun.

CHAPTER FOUR

At one end of the weight room, Josh leaned against a Nautilus machine and pretended he was merely resting between sets instead of what he was really doing—resting between sets while watching Lori work out. It was a kickboxing class today, in the adjacent aerobics area. The class was unusually small, probably because it was New Year’s Eve and most people had headed home early this Saturday afternoon to prepare for their evening celebrations.

But Billy Blanks and his Tae-Bo enthusiasts would be proud. Even without the communal energy of a full class, Lori’s sidekicks punched outward with determined force.

Her jaw looked clenched in concentration. The tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail hung in damp question marks against her cheeks. In a baggy pair of sweatpants cut off at the knees and an oversized T-shirt, she should have looked tough. Competent.

She did. But why she worked so hard on that strength clawed at him.

Her terrified reaction when he’d stopped her from falling a few mornings ago, added to her self-defense attack when he’d bumped into her on the running track the first day they’d met could equal only one thing. A man had hurt her. Not just emotionally, but physically too.

The certainty made him sick. And relieved, though that sounded more warped than it should. He wasn’t happy about whatever experiences she’d endured, of course, but he was glad to finally understand her skittishness. He was damn glad to know so that he could quit adding to her disquiet with his attempts at flirtation.

None of this changed her appeal for him, though. God, no. Now she was more than beautiful. In every bead of sweat, in every kick, in every lap, he read Lori’s determination never to be a victim again. He admired that.

But overlying his regard for her tenacious guts and her uncommon gorgeousness was something that sent him running. Tenderness. Protectiveness.

He didn’t want to feel that way.

So he reminded himself that she needed healing, not him. She wasn’t in the market for a fling any more than he was. Neither one of them was in any emotional place to want anything more.

As Josh watched, Lori changed direction, back-kicking for all she was worth. If only he could kick off his raging guard-dog complex as easily. Such an ability would come in handy right this minute, Josh thought, as he spied Wily Rick Weber sauntering through the weight room, his gaze glued on Lori.

Josh suppressed a feral growl, instead smiling at the other man as he intercepted Rick’s straight path toward the aerobics room. “Hey there, Rick.”