Red Hot Obsessions (50 page)

The desire to just exist in the here and now and shelve her concerns for later washed over her and rather than fight it, she allowed herself the rare opportunity to just relax and enjoy herself.

Every now and then, Tate would place his hand on her leg or rub small circles into her back while caught up in conversation as if the actions were simply done out of habit, but to Piper not a single one went unnoticed.

The easy connection they’d formed was completely unintentional and unexpected, but Piper had no desire to look too deep into what it might mean. Instead, she relaxed and focused her attention on feeling of contentedness she was experiencing from being surrounded by such a warm bunch of people. She listened intently and joined in the conversation wherever she could, until her eyelids grew heavy and began to droop. The day had finally caught up with her.

Tate’s arms came around her and tugged her closer, taking advantage of her moment of weakness. “Close your eyes,” he told her, cupping the back of her head and pressing it into his shoulder. She was too tired to argue. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”

With the fire at her front and his body wrapped around her, Piper was blanketed in heat and succumbed to sleep without protest. The last thought to cross her mind was how much she enjoyed the feeling of being in Tate’s strong arms and how she could get used to falling asleep this way every night.

13

Piper awoke to the sound of a horn blaring outside her apartment, only barely muffled by the ancient, single pane windows original to the building. As her brain slowly came online, she registered how well-rested she felt, a feeling that only came after a good night’s sleep. It was the most amazing feeling in the world and one she hadn’t experienced since…well, since she started working for the notorious Tate Larson.

Her thoughts drifted over the previous night’s events. She hadn’t been feeling great at the start of the day, which was to be expected when being visited by the figurative aunt from hell. The rest of the day wasn’t any better. She’d nearly cancelled on Tate, worried that she wouldn’t be very good company when submerged in such a funk, but she had to admit, she had been wrong.

His family was a breath of fresh air. Unlike any she had ever been around. The kind of family gatherings she had grown up with were something that would probably send a nice family like the Larsons packing before they even stepped out of the car.

People usually showed up drunk and only got drunker throughout the course of the day. Men brawled in the middle of the yard and the language was colorful enough to shock a sailor.

Unfortunately, the women weren’t any better. She could remember her own mother picking some good fights, and once when she was twelve she caught Kelsey Ranger fornicating behind the tool shed with Carl Henry. No amount of sex ed could compete with witnessing the real thing first-hand, that was for sure.

The biggest surprise was Tate’s transformation. He wasn’t outwardly rude or even pleasant, but she had definitely witnessed a change in him from the moment they set foot on his mother’s property. He was friendly, for one. He actually talked to people instead of barking orders, which was the only real way she knew him to behave. And he was attentive—that was the only way she could describe it. With small gestures, like bringing her pain meds and making up a plate for her when she refused to get up and do it herself, just to make sure she ate, he had taken care of her. It was dangerous, but she found herself thinking that if she saw more of that Tate Larson—like the playful one she’d glimpsed in the kitchen, or the sweet, loving one from last night—on a regular basis, she could easily see herself falling for him.

But that was a dangerous thing to do. Besides, the Tate from yesterday was a fluke and, now that the moment had passed, she had no doubt whatsoever that the Tate she knew, the one who snapped and snarled and growled at the slightest provocation, would be back the second he rolled out of bed. Which reminded her, she had better get moving before the slaver realized she hadn’t brought his coffee yet.

Letting out a huge yawn that made her jaw pop, Piper stretched languidly, soaking in the last vestiges of warmth and comfort her bed had to offer to prepare herself for the day ahead. Then, she froze.

Something felt off.

Sending out her mental feelers, Piper took note of every sound, every smell, every sensation. The city noises she had picked up on were sharper than she was familiar with, closer. The sheets clinging to her bare legs were softer, heavier, more luxurious. Her nose honed in on several smells: fresh linens, a hint of lemon, and one smell in particular that made the little hairs on her forearms stand on end.

Piper inhaled deeply, detecting the distinct, spicy scent of male. It was close. Familiar. Her body answered with a tingling and sudden rush of dampness between her thighs. It was then she registered that she was not alone. There was someone else in her bed. Was she even in her bed? Something inside told her she was not.

She ran through her most recent memories, taking inventory of all the places she had been last and who she was with. Unless she had completely skipped over an entire day, the last thing she recalled was curling up in Tate’s arms at his family barbeque.

As if to provide an answer to her dilemma, the body beside her rolled. A heavy arm draped across her stomach, pinning her to the bed. Inside, Piper panicked. What had she done last night? She couldn’t remember!

Slowly, she peeled her eyelids open and took a moment to stare at the white popcorn ceiling—not the tin with several coats of chipped and peeling paint that usually greeted her—confirming her suspicions that she had not made it home last night. She knew that ceiling. A quick visual inspection of the furniture only strengthened what she already knew to be true.

Instinct told her she needn’t bother to look to know who that arm belonged to, either. Christ, what a mess. The girls were going to have a field day with this one.

With slow movements, Piper began the careful task of extricating herself from his bed.

“Mmm.” Tate’s sleepy moan rumbled against her shoulder where he’d buried his head and his arm constricted around her waist, pulling her tighter against the line of his firm body.

Piper stilled, her body rigid and her breathing shallow while she waited. When she was fairly certain he was sleeping soundly, she grasped his wrist between two fingers and gently lifted his arm away. When he rolled onto his back, she seized the opportunity and leaped from the bed.

As quiet as a mouse, Piper tiptoed around the room, relieved to find that she was still dressed in the blouse and underwear she’d worn the night before. Folded and placed neatly in a pile on top of the dresser, she scooped up the rest of her clothing. She didn’t have time to dwell that Tate had brought her back to his place, or that he had put her in his bed, and she certainly didn’t have the luxury of being angry that he had stripped her of half her clothing. She absolutely refused to explore the possibilities of what all of that might mean. Instead, Piper dashed from the room with her clothes clutched in her arms.

The moment her feet hit the living room floor, she dropped the lot into the club chair and jammed her legs into her pants. Socks and shoes quickly followed and in under a minute, she was out the door. She didn’t breathe a full breath until she stepped off the elevator and hit the sidewalk running.

*

“So you just left?” Sheila sat opposite her at the round dining table she had purchased from Ikea and assembled herself. It was a little rickety, whether by design or Sheila’s inability to tell a screwdriver from a wrench, she didn’t know, but it fit the space perfectly.

Piper hung her head. The teacup she held between her palms pushed hot steam into her face and she inhaled the delicate aroma of chamomile and honey. It did absolutely nothing to calm her frazzled nerves. “I didn’t know what to do,” she explained. “I don’t even remember going home with him.”

“Must have been some night, eh?” Sheila’s light brows danced.

“No, it was nothing like that. At least, I don’t think it was.” She felt her brows pull down as she contemplated the question. “I just know I woke up half-dressed and in my boss’s bed.”

“Yeah, sleeping with the boss man can certainly complicate things a bit. I’m speaking from experience here.” She got up to pour another cup of tea into her mug. “The difference here is that the two of you have already bumped uglies, and look how well everything has worked out,” she said, reclaiming her stool. Piper couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. “Look at it this way. What’s the worst that could happen? You get to screw your incredibly hot boss and get paid while doing it?”

“That sounds an awful lot like prostitution, don’t you think? Besides, what happens when he decides he’s done with me and fires me?” Piper countered, flustered by the whole situation.

“You said it yourself, the man doesn’t do relationships. It could be like…” she waved her hand through the air as she searched for the right words. “Like friends with benefits.”

“We’re not friends.”

“Okay, employee with benefits. He doesn’t even cut your checks anyway. Didn’t you say that he was your second boss or something? Dude can’t even fire you if he wanted to.”

“He might not have the power to fire me directly, but I’m sure that Mr. Sinclair would have no problem doing it if he found out I was screwing around with Tate, one of his best clients. Somehow I think big time writer takes precedence over lowly assistant.”

“You can always find another job,” Sheila pointed out. “Look, all I’m saying is that you could screw this guy seven ways to Sunday and still walk away clean.”

Piper shook her head. “I can’t risk it. I need this job.”

Shelia reached out and covered her hand with her own. “I get it, I really do, but life is about taking risks, and you, my dear, are sorely in need of one.”

Piper sighed, slumping back against the chair as she contemplated her words. She had a life, but it wasn’t the one that she had spent her childhood dreaming of: a decent house, a couple of kids, a devoted husband and maybe a dog or two. Having sex with Tate wouldn’t get her any closer to those things, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun it while it lasted. Then again, she had an awful lot to lose. Her job for starters and without that paycheck she would be back in Alabama quicker than she could blink an eyelash.

No, Shelia was wrong. Getting any more involved with Tate was a bad idea. They’d crossed the line once, and despite the fuzzy feelings she had experienced lately, she wouldn’t allow it to happen again. The fact that she was attracted to the man didn’t have to interfere with their professional relationship. It didn’t have to become a complication. Now she just had to keep telling herself that so she didn’t fall into his bed the next time she saw him.

“I’m probably making too much of this whole thing anyway,” she said. Piper dropped from her chair and dumped the remnants of her tea down the drain. “Not since the club has he even looked at me like that, let alone acted like he liked me.” Except for the time he asked her if she wanted him to fuck her, and the time he stroked his morning wood and invited her to give him a hand working it out. Then there was last night. Damn she was a mess of confusion and contradiction wasn’t she?

“Don’t sell yourself short. Attraction like that doesn’t just disappear, doll. Ask someone who knows,” Shelia said, indicating herself. “When a man suddenly shifts gears like that, acting like you don’t exist and barking at you one minute, then cuddling with you the next, he’s definitely interested.”

Piper thought of the other day when Tate had backed her into the dining table looking feral, like he could eat her up any minute. Then she recalled later when he nearly tore her head from her shoulders for misplacing the client list. She’d found it, but the way he had laid into her had pretty much ruined her day.

She shook her head. “In any other situation, I would have to agree with you, but this time, you’re wrong.” Despite the little dip in her stomach at the idea that Tate might want her,
really
want her, Piper was under no illusion that Tate was interested in her for more than her organizational skills and maybe a quick roll in the sack. He was a man, after all. Tate was about as unattached, uninterested and unaffected by her than if she were one of his sisters she told herself.

“And if I’m right?”

“And if you’re right, I’ll grab hold of that man meat and ride him ‘til the cows come home,” she said boldly, then immediately cast the conversation aside, confident in the knowledge that nothing even close to that scenario would ever come to light.

14

“Okay, who’s the girl, and more importantly, do I know her?”

Tate focused on the burn in his thighs and not falling face first on the treadmill as he turned his head to look at Felix. “What girl?” There was a girl? Tate darted a glance around the packed club, searching for the girl in question. There were many, but none of them stuck out to him.

Felix laughed. “I’m talking about the one who has you glaring at the equipment like you want to set it on fire. The one who has you running your ass so far into the ground I’m afraid it might affect the deadline and singlehandedly bring the company to its knees.”

Oh, that girl
. “I think you might be being a touch melodramatic. The deadline’s fine. I’m on track. In fact, I’m more than halfway through with the storyline already.”

Felix nodded, pleased. “Glad to hear it. Maybe now I can shake Bradshaw off my ass for a while. Get some room to breathe.”

“Riding your ass is he?”

Felix shot him a dark look. What did he think? “So, the girl?”

“No girl.” Tate ran faster, upping the speed to a punishing pace so he wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Bullshit. The only time I have ever seen you act this way was when you hit a mental block, or there was a woman involved. Since you just told me how great the book is coming along, I know it’s not that. Talk to me. Never know when I might have some incredible flash of insight.”

Tate didn’t doubt that he could help him. After all, Felix had been seeing someone for a while now. Unfortunately, he had no clue who she was. Felix certainly was a secretive sonofabitch.

Friend or not, Felix was still his boss. How could he possibly tell him that he was pissed because he’d woken up this morning expecting to find Piper in his bed only to find himself alone? The wench had snuck away while he was sleeping, too chicken shit to face him in the light of day? The several hundred times he’d tried to call her phone, it went to voice mail. Since it was a Sunday, the office was closed and technically it was her day off, so she didn’t have to get back to him for another…He glanced at his watch. Twelve hours and forty-two minutes. But that was twelve hours and forty-two minutes too long from where he was standing.

She owed him an explanation and if she kept refusing to answer his calls, she was going to force his hand. He was already entertaining thoughts of pounding down her door, but he was trying to be a gentleman about it and give her a chance to come to him.

Felix was his friend, he knew that, but he was also his boss. He’d never asked him about it before, because there had never been a cause to, but he had to assume that like any reputable business, there was a policy against fraternizing with coworkers. He couldn’t very well ask him about it now, not with him questioning him like he was. It would raise too many red flags.

He didn’t want to jeopardize Piper’s job. And it would be her that would get fired. He was too important to the company, his success tied directly to theirs and vice versa. Logically he knew that they would just set him up with another replacement, but he wasn’t ready to send Piper off just yet. Not to mention, he didn’t want to be the cause of someone,
anyone
, losing their job.

But he needed to talk to someone, release some of the pent-up frustration that had built since the moment he rolled out of bed.
Alone
. Damn, he had to quit dwelling on that. It was fucking with his head. He couldn’t talk to his mother, for obvious reasons, and Marie, whom he usually confided in, probably wouldn’t see things his way, since she seemed to have found a new friend in Piper. Except for Felix, he really didn’t trust anyone else with his problems. Maybe he could skirt the details, tell Felix just enough to get his opinion without giving away that he was talking about Piper.

That could work.

Decided, Tate shut down the treadmill and grabbed his towel, swabbing his brow and chest before draping it over his shoulders. “Let’s hit the weights,” he suggested. He had the feeling that the only way to relieve some of his tension would be through a brutal workout that would leave him too tired to function. For the next twelve hours and thirty-three minutes, if he was lucky.

Tate stretched out on the weight bench and Felix got into position, spotting him. “So, what’s up?”

Gripping the metal bar, Tate braced his feet on the floor and pushed off, slowly lowering the weight to his chest. “Like you said; woman trouble.” Lift. Lower.

“Anyone I know?”

Lift. “Maybe.” Lower.

“That’s a yes.” Felix chuckled. Tate didn’t bother to correct him. Lift. “So, what’d Piper do to piss you off this time?”

His stomach tightened at the sound of her name and the bar slipped. Tate cursed, expecting a hundred and fifty pounds to come crashing down on his chest, but Felix’s quick reflexes saved him. Grasping the bar in both hands, Felix set it back in the cradle. “Who said it has anything to do with her?”

Felix rolled his eyes as they moved to switch positions. Tate looked down on him, shocked and a little annoyed that the man had been able to read him so easily. “Because I’m smart like that.”

Tate glared, not appreciating his humor. “Intelligent though you may be, I fail to see how you’ve drawn that connection.”

Felix pumped out one last press and reset the bar. Rolling to his feet, he swiped up his towel and gym bag. “I’m done here. You?” Tate nodded, gathering his things and following him to the locker room. “The connection is easy to make,” he continued, as they stepped into the steamy showers, “because I’ve never met anyone who gets under your skin quite like she does. Plus, the fact that you haven’t barreled into my office demanding that I fire her is a pretty big clue.”

Tate puzzled over his words. “How does my not wanting to fire her translate into my being angry with her?”

“Aha, so it is Piper you’re angry with,” he said, turning under the spill of water to point a foamy bar of soap at him.

“Oh, that’s brilliant, Sherlock. You mean to tell me this whole time you’ve been prodding me for information, you didn’t even know if it was about Piper or not? Well, damn. It’s a good thing I’m already in the shower. I feel dirty. Used.” Felix grinned and shook his head.

“Coercion at its finest, my friend,” Felix said smugly. “That’s what having a good woman in your life will do for you.”

“Speaking of women. When do I get to meet this mystery woman of yours?”

Felix turned off the shower, his lips sealed tight. Tate rinsed quickly and followed him back to the lockers to change into his street clothes.

“Cat got your tongue?” he taunted, pulling a gray sweater over his head. “Let me guess, she has a
great
personality.”

“As a matter of fact, she does.”

Tate stilled, affecting a compassionate, understanding expression. “That ugly, huh? Tough break, buddy. Ouch!”

“Watch your mouth about my woman,” Felix warned, whipping him with his towel again, then giving one last playful punch/shove combo that sent Tate crashing into a row of lockers for good measure.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have anger management issues?”

“Only once, but they didn’t live to tell about it.” They finished dressing in companionable silence.

Outside, the air was balmy but pleasant. Tate rolled up his shirt sleeves to keep from overheating. Felix turned to him just as he was about to tell him he’d catch him later. “So, Piper, huh?”

“What?” Tate blinked. He was so completely taken aback by his sudden and unexpected question that he was at a loss for words. Hadn’t they ended this line of conversation already?

“I said,
Piper, huh?
” Felix spoke slowly, enunciating the words as if Tate were mentally challenged.

“I know what you said.” He scowled. Looked off across the parking lot searching for an excuse, you know, in case one just happened to coast by on a breeze. Nothing came to him. Feeling backed into a corner despite standing out in the middle of a wide-open parking lot, Tate scratched his fingers through his hair.
When in doubt, deny, deny, deny
. “How in the hell did you manage to make that leap?”

“I was a frog in my last life. Seriously, though, you got a thing for Piper?”

Jesus, clearly the man wasn’t going to let it go. Tate studied him, searching for any indication that Felix might be upset with him. All he saw in his dark eyes was concern and not a little curiosity. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s the office policy about dating a coworker?”

“Shit, I was right.” Felix’s curse did not put him at ease. “Listen, there isn’t really a policy in place about this sort of thing, because we’re all adults here, but if you’re thinking about hooking up with this woman, do us all a favor and really
think
about it before you jump in the sack with her, okay? These things don’t usually have the best turn out and tend to get ugly, fast, and—shit, you already slept with her, didn’t you?” he questioned when Tate scowled at the ground.

“Fuck. Yeah, man.” Now it was Felix’s turn to run his fingers through his hair, as if this whole situation was his burden to bear. “Look, what happened between her and me happened before she started on as my assistant. She didn’t even know my name. So, you know, you don’t have to fire her or anything.”

Felix glared at him. “I’m not going to fire her. Do you really think I would put myself through the misery of combing the globe for a person ballsy enough to stand up to your prick ass again? No, thank you.”

He paced, and the whole action made Tate a little nervous. “So this was what, a one-night stand?”

“Yes, but…” Tate stalled, unsure of how far to go. Maybe it was time to come clean, know what he was up against, what he stood to lose. What they both stood to lose. Then he could come up with a game plan instead of flying blind. “It’s not enough, though. I want more. There’s just something about her…I can’t put it into words.”

“I know what you mean, man.” Felix sent him a cautious look. “Is that what she wants?”

“I don’t know” he admitted. “I think she might hate my guts, but I feel like there’s something there.” The way she had fallen asleep in his arms, trusted him to care for her so completely, told him that much.

“Then you have to find out. Don’t let this thing fester. Unanswered questions have a way of eating you alive. Get your answers so you can both move forward.”

Tate felt some of the tightness in his stomach lessen as hope and anticipation filtered in. “What are you saying? That I should go after her?”

“I’m saying that you need to iron out whatever this thing is between you two.”

“What if we decide we want to be together?”

“I don’t care if you decide to dress up in monkey suits and climb fucking trees all day, so long as your work isn’t affected,” he barked. When Felix suddenly rounded on him and jabbed a finger into his chest, he was ashamed to admit that he flinched a little. “So help me, if you screw this up, if you scare Piper off, I will tear up your contract so fast it will make your head spin.”

Tate nodded; although it was a shock to see his friend react so strongly in defense of another person. He must really like Piper, he thought idly. “Noted.”

They parted ways, and as Tate climbed into his car he couldn’t ignore the triumphant feeling filling him. He’d been given the green light to go after what he wanted. As he drove away, a single question nagged at him. What did he want? He wanted Piper, he knew that much, but did he want a relationship with her? Could he even be in a relationship? He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to be monogamous. He’d tried it once and look at how well that turned out. Great sex did not a relationship make.

Baby steps, he reminded himself. First he had to talk to her. Then he had to get her. After that, it was anyone’s guess.

Now all he had to do was get her to open the damn door.