The drive to Wick’s estate took me about a half hour. His home was outside of St. Loren in one of those old family plots of land that had been settled since before America was more than a collection of colonies, and his family had been rich for about as long, if not all the way back to the first person to decide to up and leave England—and he could likely tell me the name of the Guidry who’d made that choice. Wick wasn’t stuck up or anything, but I knew he was wealthy and always had been, and I couldn’t help but be a bit intimidated as I slowed at the lane that led to his home. Someone inside must’ve decided I was worthy of entry because the iron gate swung open. The drive was lit with small globes along the edges of the pavement that made approaching the mansion even more breathtaking. I never knew exactly where I was supposed to park, so I stopped in the circle near the front.

  A sense of urgency swamped me now that I was here, and I rushed to get out. I stepped onto the white brick path that led to the house, which was painted the same color. Round Grecian pillars supported the roof, and two sets of grand exterior staircases swept upward to a second-floor terrace. Furniture was artfully arranged up there, illuminated by tasteful overhead lighting; although, it didn’t seem as if anyone was outside, so I kept walking forward toward the front door.

  Humiliation gripped me again. Wick had more or less been tricked into taking me out tonight. Was he mad at me? Did he hate me? He hadn’t said anything bad—hell, he’d even asked me to dinner and kissed my cheek—but I couldn’t help but wonder if secretly he thought I was behind part of this. Maybe he thought I was a money-grubber trying to trick him into getting closer? Or I wanted something to hold over his head at work? I was rattled. I didn’t believe most of my reaching theories, but I doubted he wanted to take me to bed, which I very much wanted to do with him. The mere idea was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.

  I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn’t the type of man who got hit on all the time, either. I needed to let this fantasy die.

  Sighing, I continued walking, but before I reached the door it was opened for me by an older woman in a severe black dress with matching pearls at her throat. Her hair was swept up in a bun without a strand out of place, despite the hour.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Riggins.”

  She gave me a small, polite smile, the same one I’d received every time I came to the house. “How can I help you tonight, Mr. Baranov?”

  “May I please see Mr. Guidry? It’s not urgent.”

  She nodded. I never knew what to do around the servants here at Wick’s house, but she didn’t seem to have the same problem as she gestured gracefully for me to follow her up the main staircase. I wasn’t sure why this was always so awkward, because both me and Mrs. Riggins worked for Wick, but she seemed like she was a step above me, maybe because she was part of his home life, which was more intimate and closer to him as a person. A strange mix of emotions swirled in my gut.

  Mrs. Riggins led me through a tall archway into a sitting room, or maybe it was a library because every wall was lined with stuffed-full bookshelves. Heavy wood dominated the space, and a white stone fireplace with a carved frieze of horses took up one wall. She gestured at a leather armchair, and I dropped onto the cushioned seat, exhaustion slamming me.

  “I’ll inform Mr. Guidry that he has a guest.” Without another glance in my direction, she left, and less than a minute later another woman in a similar black outfit entered the room carrying a tray. She was younger, with a red braid down her back, and she smiled as she set down a carafe of coffee on an end table between the chairs, then did the same with two mugs on saucers. Lastly, she arranged a small tray of accompaniments—cream, honey, and sugar. She didn’t utter even a single peep as she left, and while coffee sounded great because I was getting hungry, I wasn’t sure I could stand to drink anything right now. Wick’s phone burned a hole in my pocket, so I took it out and set it down next to what I had decided was his mug, since it was near the empty chair.

  Time passed and I stared at the books. Had he read them or were they an antique collection? The spines seemed to be leather for the most part. Wick entered the room and immediately snagged my attention. I sucked in a deep breath. He was in a black robe made of a material that looked soft to touch, and his hair was wet, as if maybe he’d just gotten out of the shower. He padded barefoot across the thick cream carpet toward me.

  “I’m sorry to keep you,” he said, and the confusion on his face had me feeling ten thousand times more awkward than I already did. He hadn’t expected to see me tonight, but did that mean he didn’t want to, or had I simply surprised him? A smile slowly spread across his face and made everything even worse. I’d enjoyed our fake date and wanted to spend more time with him, especially when he was half dressed and handsome. I let out a long, shaky breath.

  Fuck, why was I here again? It wasn’t to stare at him barely clothed. I picked up his phone and went over to him, and his smile slipped as I plopped it onto his palm. “Here. I’m sorry about Lacey and the whole setup. I guess that’s what I get for trying to embarrass someone else—a taste of my own medicine. I hope you will be able to forget about this, and I’m sorry you got dragged into her scheming.”

  He stared down at his phone for a moment, and I wasn’t prepared when he snagged my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles. The warmth and heat went straight to my groin and I had trouble dragging in a breath. The sharp edge of instant need was too much. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything close to this and I wasn’t ready for the bright punch of lust, especially since I’d seen him do the exact same thing to other people. One little kiss didn’t mean he wanted me or liked me, it was simply a way he showed affection, and sometimes it was even for strangers.

  I couldn’t help but love it.

  He cleared his throat, and I shivered as a drop of water plopped from his damp hair onto my wrist. “What if I don’t want to forget it? We had fun, didn’t we?”

  I studied his gray eyes and sighed. “I’m not in the mood for pranks from you right now.”

  He stepped in and the enticing scent of sandalwood and vanilla swarmed my senses. His soft lips on my cheek for the second time tonight stunned me. “I’m not joking.”

  5

  WICK

  My heart pounded at a million miles per hour as Maurice stared up into my face while I slowly straightened. He wasn’t a violent person, but I was wary of a physical reaction. Some men weren’t prepared for intimacy. His gaze darted around the room and he licked his lips before his attention settled back on me. I clenched my phone tightly as he adjusted his glasses. What was going through his mind? It was hell waiting for him to say something. . . anything.

  “We work together,” he murmured, as if that was the end of the conversation.

  “I know, and for many people the arrangement wouldn’t be ideal.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and continued to stare at me. “You’ve never said before tonight that you might think of me as more than your assistant.”

  I shrugged. “Well, I’m saying it now. We’ve been more than boss and employee for a long time, don’t you think?”

  He nodded, but his continued silence was worrisome. I hadn’t expected him to leap into my arms, but his lack of enthusiasm was disheartening.

  “You don’t want to sleep with me.”

  I blinked at him and snorted, amusement breaking up some of my anxiety so I could take a deep breath. “Says who?” I glanced down his body. “You’re solid and I could really wrap my arms around you. I wouldn’t feel as if I might break you while doing any of the things I like in bed.”

  He swallowed hard and cleared his throat as a smile twisted up the corner of his lips. “Uh. . . . Oh.”

  I laughed, and he ducked his head.

  “You aren’t interested in me as your boyfriend.” It sounded like a robot with Maurice’s face was reciting a list.

  Stepping forward, I bent down until I could caress my lips over his, and he took a step back at the light contact, but I followed until our mouths were pressed firmly together. He smelled fantastic, a little musky. He let out a growly noise that spiked my adrenaline and had my cock tingling as it twitched awake to struggle against my boxers.

  He took another step back and broke the kiss, face tinged red, and had his hands out at his sides as if he thought he was going to fall. I reached for his shoulder, and he shuffled farther backward.

  “I have to go home now.” He nodded and cleared his throat.

  “Wait.”

  He shook his head and turned on his heel. I wouldn’t say he ran, but it would’ve taken some effort to catch up with him as he bolted from the library. I didn’t like this, but I let him go. Maybe he needed time with the idea of us together, or maybe he would tell me he wasn’t interested, but whatever happened next, I’d stated my intent. The rest was up to him. I couldn’t force him to open up to me, and I was already violating one of the most important rules for the office I’d set for myself, so a small part of me needed him to make the next decision.

  If he didn’t want me, I had to know it. I just hoped he decided to see where this relationship might go. I used my thumb to unlock my phone screen. After a few minutes of dithering, I sent a text.

  Wick: Let me know what you want on Monday. No pressure. I like you no matter what, and more than coworkers or friends would be great, but I don’t want to scare you off.

  Maurice: I’m not worried about my job. I know you wouldn’t fire me.

  But he didn’t say he wasn’t scared. I stared at my phone and thought about sending another message, but I’d already said he would have the weekend to consider what he felt about getting entangled with the boss. If I went back on my word now, I would already be crossing a boundary. This would be a big step for both of us.

  Groaning, I let the screen go blank. Sometimes being in charge was the worst.

  My body had a natural alarm and come hell or high water my eyes usually blinked open a little after six o’clock in the morning—the fact it was a Saturday didn’t make any difference because my internal clock was run by an asshole, apparently. I grumbled and rolled over in bed, then hissed as my hard-on connected with the soft mattress. I slipped my hands under my pillows and lazily humped, moaning at the pleasure that slid through my body while imagining it was Maurice’s hard but soft body beneath me. I buried my face against the fabric, pumping my hips faster.

  What kind of lover would he be? Would he want me to do all the work, being soft and sweet underneath me? Would he take care of me in bed the way he did in all the other parts of my life? Would he jerk me off? Put his mouth on my cock? Or maybe he would beg me to touch him all over.

  Did he bottom? Top? Or both?

  God, there was so much to learn about him, and I would take anything I could get. I’d always been a chameleon in relationships, attempting to fit whatever role the man I was with wanted me to play, and I would give him anything he needed. It took a while, but with thoughts of Maurice’s warm lips under mine swirling in my head, eventually I shuddered as heat streaked through my gut and my balls drew closer to my body. My cockhead tingled as I ground roughly against the bed, and I stifled a groan while pumping a load of cum into my boxers. I shivered as I lay there in the aftermath, wishing I had a warm, strong body to snuggle up with while I lazed around in bed for a while longer.

  Instead, I shoved up onto my knees and winced at the cool, sticky dampness coating my groin. I hopped out of bed and crossed the wide room, running my hand along the antique wooden dresser that matched the bedframe as I passed it, then went into the bathroom connected to my room to grab a quick shower. With nothing else on the docket for the day, I decided to head in to work and get things done I hadn’t had time for during the week.

  Normally I would text Maurice and ask him if he wanted to come in for half a day—or whatever he would like to work and be paid for—but I hesitated, and that was how at around eleven in the morning I was sitting alone at my desk in my office, squinting at an order form. It took me about a minute of not being able to see well before I glanced at the cracked blinds over the windows, then dragged my phone closer to check the time. It shouldn’t be getting dark. I switched on the desk lamp. Thunder rolled and I glanced upward, and then my phone let out a godawful beeping. I dragged it closer. Severe Storm Warning flashed on the screen, and with the lightning that blazed in the windows, I would say it was accurate.

  I groaned. I hadn’t been paying much attention to the weather because so far this summer things had been mild, and anytime there was a hurricane it was all anyone talked about, so I didn’t stay glued to it like some people did. I went to my favorite weather site and sighed as I stared at the wall of storms preparing to smash into St. Loren—the entire state of Louisiana was under assault—then checked the next several days. It was nothing but more foul weather. I cringed when I took a look at the expected rainfall today: fifteen inches. Directly following that onerous amount was a flash-flood warning.

  “Shit. That isn’t good.” I wanted to ask Maurice to come in to St. Loren before the roads possibly flooded, but I was hesitant to do so, and that was bad.

  I’d fucked up by starting something with him, then not having the balls to do the shit that was necessary despite me rocking our work boat. I let out a long breath. No, I couldn’t think like that. We were in flux right now and things were bound to be strange for a while whether he said yes or no, but not asking at all would’ve been far worse than some awkwardness. Thunder boomed so close the windows rattled, and I flashed back to the moment last night where my hands had been restrained behind my back. I had a similar feeling right now, only this was a trap of my own creation.

  The clatter of rain on the roof started all at once. I went to the window and raised the blinds so I could stare outside at the downpour hammering the trees near the building. Branches bent low under the weight of the water and almost touched the ground. The sky was nearly black. This was bad, but not the end of the world. Half the time the weather was wrong. Surely this would blow over. I went back to my desk but couldn’t concentrate, and I hissed when my phone rang. I recognized the number as belonging to Sturdy Builds Enterprises, one of the construction companies that was working on a new school for the parish. Groaning, I answered.

  “Does this have something to do with all the rain?” I asked, before the other person could say a word.

  The unhappy chuckle that carried down the line had my gut in a knot. “You know how the new elementary school was on the edge of a floodplain, and you begged the parish to reconsider the location, but they decided it would be fine?” The voice belonged to a construction foreman named Ewell Smalls, and normally he was a cheerful ball of fire. This didn’t bode well for my day.

  “Do tell.”

  “We have a situation. A tributary to the river runs behind the school property, so it’s picturesque, right?”

  “I’m familiar with the area,” I grumbled.

  “Well, the tributary is already flirting with the banks. We gotta do something or we’re looking at a total loss of all the work that’s been completed so far. They started installing drywall yesterday. It will be damage in the millions, sir.”

  I closed my eyes and couldn’t imagine how they would ever recover the time and money. Even with flood insurance it would be a nightmare. “What would you like me to do?”

  “I’m already organizing sandbags and anything else I can think of on my end, but I was hoping you could get someone in here, and we could maybe dig a quick diversion ditch, give the water somewhere to go. There’s a big field nearby, but we would need to do that before the water leaves the banks and the ground is too mushy for the equipment. I don’t have anyone with a backhoe on call. I know you could probably make that happen.”

  “I’m on it.” I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

  There was a loud crack of thunder on his end and seconds later it rolled over above me. “Okay, as of right now I have my guys sandbagging, but this won’t be enough.”

  “Go, do it.”

  I let out a long, unhappy breath as I dropped the call. I glared at my phone, and while I knew I could find the numbers and contact all the people who needed to get over to the school construction site, there was one fact that was true—Maurice would do it faster. I tapped his number and prayed he wouldn’t avoid me after last night.

  “Hello? M. . . Wick, what’s going on? I know you don’t like the sound of thunder. Are you okay?”

  I flushed and tugged my collar. “Uh, the cuffs were bothering me most during the session at Escape Adventure. Normally I’m not bad with a little storm,” I mumbled.

  He chuckled. “I’m sorry I left the way I did last night. You shocked me.”

  “Well, here’s another surprise.”

  He groaned. “You aren’t going to ask me to drive in this, are you?”

  “Well. . . I do need to call some people, and whether or not you want to be here is your own decision. Maybe you shouldn’t come in.” I filled him in on the situation, and as I talked, noises carried to me from his end of the line—silverware clinking into a sink, the shuffle of someone obviously getting ready to leave the house. A toilet flushing. Clothing rustling.

  When I was done talking, he clucked his tongue. “I have a list of emergency contacts for each work site in the second left-hand desk drawer. It’s in the hanging files and it’s highlighted and should stand out. Call Frank Gaitlin to get the backhoe over to the school. His number is in there.”

  “Okay, so you don’t need to drive to the city, do you?”

  He chuckled. “If you think that’s the only work site that will be calling today, you’re crazy. I was already wondering whether or not I should’ve come in. They pay us to be there when they need something, and if we fumble for one client, everyone in the whole city will hear about it.”

  I clutched the edge of the desk and nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “You are a wonder. All right, I’ll find the list and start calling.”

 

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