Stolen Kisses With Her Boss

What was going on here?

He parked next to a red truck. Among the buildings and other obstacles were people dressed in white painter coveralls and wearing clear masks over their faces. They were running from place to place while being shot at with guns that used exploding paintballs.

Why was Cynthia here?

He slowly approached the shed where a couple of teenagers stood laughing and pointing at what was happening on the field. Posted on the siding of the building was a sign stating “Peek’s Paintball”. Below the sign was a list of the charges for a game, with or without the rental of the equipment. This was just the type of entertainment he didn’t waste his money on. There was nothing to show for the expense. Yet, it seemed several kids and, apparently, Cynthia were playing.

Sean joined the boys. “Hey.”

They looked at him curiously. Was it that obvious he was out of his element? “Do either one of you know where I can find Cynthia Marcum?”

One boy looked at the other. “Isn’t that Rick’s sister?”

“Yeah.” The teen pointed toward the field. “She’s out there somewhere.”

Sean studied the game area, trying to catch a glimpse of Cynthia. Players continued moving between obstacles while being shot at.

“They just started a new game a few minutes ago. It may be a while before she shows up,” one of the boys stated.

Sean didn’t really have time to stand around waiting on her. Cynthia knew he was coming. Why wasn’t she available? “Could you point me in the direction of where you last saw her?”

The taller of the two indicated the right side of the field.

Sean started in that direction.

“Hey, man,” the shorter boy called, “I wouldn’t do that without a mask and gun. It’s an unwritten rule that anyone on the field is fair game.”

Sean hesitated. Surely no one would shoot an unarmed man. He wasn’t even dressed the part.

“I’ll let you have mine. You really don’t want to go out there without some protection.” The second boy handed him his plastic helmet.

Sean took it. “Thanks. You really think they’d shoot me?”

Both boys gave him a solemn nod.

The tall one asked, “Do you know how to use a paintball gun?”

Sean looked at the clear gun with a black plastic container attached to the bottom and a small black canister on the back. “No, not really.”

“This one is an automatic. All you have to do is pull the trigger. This is the hopper.” He pointed to the plastic container. “It holds the paintballs. This is your gas.” He put his hand on the canister. “You should have plenty. Just point and shoot. Aim for the body.”

They had to be kidding. Surely Cynthia wasn’t out there dressed as they were and armed. “Is all of this really necessary?”

Both boys bobbed their heads in a rapid motion.

“Oh, and don’t take your mask off for any reason until the whistle blows. Paintballs can leave nasty whelps.”

“Got it.” Sean started out into the field again. He hadn’t gone six feet before he felt a thump and dampness on his upper arm. He looked down to see a bright yellow splatter on his good navy pullover. At least he was wearing jeans. Moving into a trot, he found cover behind a barrel. There were two pinging sounds against the side as he crouched down. Paint flew in the air around him.

A couple of giggles came from a nearby lean-to. He peeked out to see two girls.

“Almost got you,” one called.

“Do you know where Cynthia Marcum is?” Sean brought his head back, not moving from his sheltered spot.

“Whose team are you on?” came a response.

“No one’s. I came here to see Cynthia.” He’d had no idea it would be this hard to do.

“She’s guarding our fort,” a girl called.

“Fort?” He hadn’t seen anything that looked like a fort among the structures.

“Yeah. It’s the church,” another voice called. “You better be careful. She’s a good shot.”

“We’re going to believe you this time. We’ll let you by,” one of the girls called.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Sean stood but kept his head low as he ran toward the façade that looked like a white church front with a steeple. When he was hit in the hip, he took cover behind some boards driven into the ground forming a haphazard fence. Okay, he’d had all the paint on him he wanted. It was time to retaliate.

Sean did a three-sixty survey of the area. A boy came into his field of vision and Sean pulled the trigger. With a pop, pop, pop the balls left the chamber. Two hit the ground near the boy’s feet. He turned to run and the third caught him square in the back.

A smile covered Sean’s lips. This game might be more interesting than he’d thought. He ran across an open area to another barrel, fully expecting to draw fire. When none came his confidence increased and he kept moving. He reached a large oak tree that stood in the middle of the field and stopped, waited.

Where was Cynthia? He needed to get that report and get back to his office. There was still work to do tonight. Sean yelled, “Cynthia?”

Seconds later he heard, “Over here.”

She was at the church. Sean headed in that direction. This time he wasn’t as lucky as he had been during his last run. A couple of boys stepped out from behind a storefront and paintballs sailed in his direction. Ducking and zigzagging, he ran behind the church front and straight into someone.

With a grunt from him and a whoosh from the person he hit, they landed with a thud on the ground in a tangle of legs and arms. Seconds later he looked into the wide, dazed eyes of Cynthia. Their mouths were close enough to touch if not for the plastic masks between them. Sean wished he could kiss her. Almost instantly behind that thought came the realization of how soft the feminine curves were beneath him. When she shifted, they became even more evident.

“Uh...Sean, what’re you doing here?” Cynthia looked at him as if she might be imagining him.

“Do you mean here on top of you or here as in on the playing field?”

For a moment she looked perplexed, as if she didn’t understand the question. “Both, I think.”

“I was looking for you. You told me to meet you here.” She really did have beautiful eyes.

Cynthia struggled to get out from under him. “I don’t think I asked you to knock me down and lay on me.”

“No. That was purely accidental.” And my pleasure. He rolled to his side, taking some of the pressure off her. She shimmied against him. His body warmed and twitched in awareness. A movement above them caught his attention. He glanced up. A boy pointing a gun was bearing down on them.

Suddenly Cynthia twisted to her side and away from him. “I have to protect the fort,” she muttered with a sound of determination as she reached for her gun.

Sean raised his and aimed. The paintball hit the boy in the chest. Red paint covered his coverall.

“Aw, Cyn, I was so close,” the kid said with disappointment in his voice.

Cynthia giggled. “Yet so far away.” She looked back at him. “Thanks, Doc, nice shot.”

“You’re welcome.” Sean grinned as he got to his feet. He offered her a hand. She took it without hesitation. “There’s a first time for everything.” He’d impressed not only himself but her as well. He liked that for some reason. He was confident she didn’t suffer fools easily.

“Really? You’ve never played paintball?” She looked around them as if making sure no one else was headed in their direction.

“No.” This was just the type of thing that there was never money for when he was growing up. He would have loved to have had a birthday party like this one, or even gone to one, but more times than not there was barely money for food. His parents had told him more than once it would get better after the “new business” took off. That had never happened.

The boy walked back the way Sean had come.

“So is he done?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, he got hit in the chest so he has to sit out now.” Cynthia crouched behind the church supports. “I’d have you on my team any time.” Admiration filled her voice.

He involuntarily puffed out his chest and stood straighter.

Her attention had already returned to the field. She glanced back at him and pulled at his arm. “Hey, you better get down or you’re going to have more paint on you than you already have.” A second passed. “Why don’t you have on coveralls? You have ruined your sweater and jeans.”

“I hadn’t planned on wallowing on the ground or being shot at by kids. Some guy told me not to come out here without a mask and gun. He didn’t offer me coveralls. I’m here for a report, not to be a target. By the way, when’re you going to be free here so I can get my report?”

“It shouldn’t take long.” She looked around the façade as if she expected someone was sneaking up on them. “My team should be returning any minute now.”

He looked. “Just how do you tell who’s on your team?”

“By the color on their helmet.” She made it sound as if anyone should know that. His chest deflated.

No other women he knew would be out here playing this game. “You have to be kidding. That means they must get pretty close before you know if they are friend or foe?”

“Yep. But that’s part of the fun.” Cynthia sounded as if she loved the challenge.

He guessed it was. To his surprise he was having a good time.

“So why exactly are you here?”

“They were short one team member and I got drafted. I’m just filling in on this game until one of Rick’s friends shows up.”

That made sense. But Sean had already gotten too caught up in this craziness.

Her focus remained on the field around them. “I’ll be done here in a few minutes.”

She sure took the game seriously. It sounded as if no amount of prodding on his part was going to change her mind. She looked cute in the baggy white paper coveralls with her hair pulled back by the mask and her eyes wide in anticipation. His type was usually the “I can’t get my fingernails broken or my shoes dirty” kind, and here he was admiring a woman with no makeup and paint all over her.

A tall, lanky boy ran toward them calling with excitement, “Hey, Cyn. We won. I got the last of them.”

Cynthia stood. “Great.”

Sean joined her.

“This has been the best birthday party ever. Thanks.” The boy stopped in front of them and gave Cynthia a hug.

She returned it. “I’m glad you like it.” Cynthia pulled off her mask and shook out her hair.

Sean could do little more than stare. She looked so sexy as her hair floated around her shoulders. His body heated. By the way she acted, Cynthia had no idea how captivating the action was. He was more aware with each passing second. Why was he reacting to her so? This wasn’t like him.

There had been women in his life. Plenty of them but none had interested him enough to cause this type of response in such a short time. His female companions had been just that. Companions. Some for the night, others for a month or two. He wanted a woman who was serious, focused. Thought like he did. After living with his parents he’d learned too well that some people haphazardly went through life. He planned, considered each step.

Sean knew the value of hard work and used his money wisely. Unlike this party. No matter how entertaining it might be, he couldn’t see why Cynthia would spend so much on a party when he was sure she could have used the money elsewhere. Like repairing her brother’s car. He could already tell she wasn’t the person for him but still he liked her. What would it hurt to enjoy her company while it lasted?

“Sean, I’d like you to meet my youngest brother, Rick. It’s his birthday we’re celebrating. Rick, this is Dr. Donavon.” She put a hand on her brother’s arm.

The affection between them was obvious. Something that Sean and his siblings didn’t share. He hadn’t seen his older brother and sister in a couple of years. He’d been much younger and so different from them that their relationships hadn’t been close. Sean had been an outsider in his own family. The idea that his brother or sister would throw him a party was laughable.

“Nice to meet you, Rick. Happy birthday.” Sean offered his hand. The boy had a firm handshake. “Please call me Sean.”

Cynthia gave him a warm smile. She seemed to appreciate him allowing her brother the familiarity. There were too many confusing emotions surrounding him liking that idea that he chose not to contemplate it further.

Cynthia handed her headgear and gun to Rick. “Will you see about these? I’ve got to get a report out of the car for Sean.”

“Uh, sure.” Rick took the equipment. Rick turned to him. “I can take yours too.”

Flipping the mask off, Sean handed it and the gun to Rick. “It belongs to some guy with red hair who was standing up by the shed.”

“That’d be Johnny. I’ll see that he gets it.” Rick headed in the direction he’d come.

“Let’s go. My car is over here,” Cynthia said as she walked toward what he assumed was the car park.

Sean followed. Even in the coveralls, Cynthia had a nice swing to her hips. She had a generous behind that proclaimed she was all woman.

This interest in her had to stop.

CHAPTER THREE

CYNTHIA GLANCED AROUND at Sean. A look of guilt flickered in his eyes. Had she just caught him checking her out?

Her spine tingled. There had been a moment just like it when he’d been on top of her. He was affecting her in ways she wasn’t completely comfortable with. What was going on? This couldn’t continue. He was in truth her boss and even if he wasn’t they lived in two different worlds.

She made her strides longer. He should be sent on his way as soon as possible. There wasn’t time in her life to think about Sean Donavon. Her brothers and keeping their financial heads above water were all she needed to focus on. Her life didn’t need muddling by dreamy thoughts of Sean.

Thankfully they soon reached her car. But then she realized she had to remove her coveralls to get her keys out of her jeans. Distressed, she tried to make it clean and simple, instead of the striptease she was afraid it might look like. Cynthia didn’t miss the slight uplift to Sean’s lips when she wiggled back and forth as she struggled to remove the material from her shoulders. He was appreciating the spectacle she was making.

“A gentleman would offer to help,” she snapped as she continued to twist.

He grinned. “I was sort of enjoying the show.”

Heat rose to her cheeks.

Sean stepped closer, which didn’t help matters in the least. He gave her collar a tug.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” He sounded sincere.

The panic that had simmered while she worked to undress had started to flame. Cynthia let the coveralls drop to her feet and dug into her pocket for her keys. Finding them, she laid them on the top of the car then pulled the coveralls up and tied the sleeves around her waist.

“So did you get the car you were having trouble with fixed?” Sean asked.

“It’s running but my pocketbook is empty.” She clicked the car door opener.

“I bet having this party at the same time didn’t help.” His tone was matter-of-fact.

Was he being critical? Did he think she was wasting money? “You’re not kidding. But Rick only turns eighteen once. He deserved a nice party. Some fun.”

“Maybe.”

Sean didn’t sound as if he agreed. “Anyway, it’s good for you. It just means that you’ll have me for as long as you need me.” Grabbing the file off the seat, she almost shoved it at him.

Something about the slight twist of his lips confused her. It was as if she was talking about one thing while he was thinking of another. A tremor washed through her body at the thought of him touching her. She hoped her reaction didn’t show. The man had her tied up in knots in more ways than one.

“Thanks.” He took the file in his hand.

“Cyn, come quick!” Rick, still dressed in playing gear, ran toward them waving his arm. “Ann Marie is hurt.”

“What’s wrong?” Cynthia called.

The boy yelled, “She’s hurt her leg.”

“Tell her not to move. I’ll be right there.” Cynthia dug under the car seat, pulling out a first-aid kit. When she stood she didn’t see Sean anywhere. Seconds later she was trotting toward Rick. At the sound of footsteps, she glanced to her right to find Sean beside her.

At what must have been her questioning look he said, “I thought I might help.”

“Thanks.” She was grateful. If Ann Marie was badly injured she could really use his medical assistance.

They rounded a stack of drums on the playing field to find Rick on bended knee beside a girl. She was still wearing coveralls but her mask lay beside her. Her blond hair fell loosely down her back as she rubbed the ankle of her left leg. A couple of other kids stood looking down as her with interest.

Cynthia joined them and went down on her knees. “Ann Marie, I’m Cynthia. Rick’s sister. What hurts?”

“My ankle. I can’t walk.” The girl’s pain was obvious.

Focusing on nothing else but Ann Marie, Cynthia put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to reassure her. “Let me look. Where exactly does it hurt?”

“Right here,” the girl cried out as she touched the spot.

Moving down to where she could easily reach Ann Marie’s foot, Cynthia began to push the pants leg of the coveralls up. “You let me know if I’m hurting you.” She slowly gathered the material until she could see the ankle area. “I’m going to need to roll your sock down.”

The girl shifted.

“Stay still. You wouldn’t want to make the injury worse.” Cynthia carefully touched Ann Marie’s skin, checking around the ankle bone for raised areas or tenderness. When her fingers reached the skin on the inside of Ann Marie’s ankle she winced.

Cynthia shifted, getting a better view. Even in the dimming afternoon light she could make out a purple discoloration of the skin. Her fingers moved to the strings of Ann Marie’s shoe.

“Don’t do that,” Sean’s stern voice told her. He joined her on the ground.

Cynthia had forgotten all about him. She was surprised he hadn’t said something sooner or taken over the situation. She gave him a questioning look.

“It could be broken. The shoe will act as a splint,” he explained. “It should remain on and be removed at the emergency department.”

That made sense. Cynthia sat back on her heels and spoke to Ann Marie. “You have definitely sprained it or worse. We’re going to have to make a trip to the ER.”

The teen started crying.

Cynthia lightly patted her leg, trying to comfort her. “You’re going to be fine.”

The girl gave her a tear-filled look. “My parents are going to be so mad at me. They told me not to come to the party.”

A knot formed in Cynthia’s stomach. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation to come. “I’m sure they’ll understand. Right now let’s worry about that ankle. We need to get you to the car and on to the hospital.”

“I want to stabilize the foot more before she’s moved just on the off chance it’s broken,” Sean said.

Cynthia turned to him. “How do we do that?”

“We need something to wrap around the shoe that will support the ankle. A long piece of cloth, anything.” Sean looked at her then above them at the others watching.

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