The Boss's Son Box Set Read online

  His phone rang.

  “That’s your conference call,” Britt said.

  “I’ve gotta take this. I’ll call you later.”

  She smiled. “Okay. Have a great day.”

  “You too.”

  He must’ve felt guilty. He told her to take the day off, and then didn’t want to spend it with her. And he must’ve pondered it during his workout. Maybe he felt better knowing she was going into work and not spending the day alone.

  Despite her protests about laundry, Britt dressed for work and went to the office for a while. She kept busy and didn’t talk to anyone unless they came to her cube with a question. Her phone, which ordinarily she kept in a drawer turned virtuously to silent mode during work hours, sat forlorn on her desk all afternoon without a single call or message from Jack. She spent a lot of her time staring at her phone, going over everything he had said the night before. Desire had clouded their judgment, she reasoned. Not since college had she made or heard such protestations of lust, of romance, of feelings that were true only in the fleeting moment of passion. She had believed those words last night, finding herself more vulnerable, more gullible than she had imagined. He hadn’t meant a damn thing he said. He didn’t want to be her lover or take her to India or change her life for the better. He wanted her for one night only, and he said whatever he needed to in order to make that happen. It wasn’t monstrous certainly, but it didn’t make him a prince either.

  Britt gathered her things and went home that evening without hearing from him at all. She ate an entire bag of microwave popcorn while watching one of those wedding dress makeover shows. Sullen and disappointed, she laid out her clothes for the next day and sat on her bed thinking how miserable she was. The last thing she needed was another man who made her miserable, she thought. Kevin had let her down, but she never yearned for him this way. Jack made her yearn. The memory of Jack, not just his body but the way he talked about the places he’d visited, the charity tie-in on his restaurant, all of his projects. He was candid and interesting and absolutely magnetic. She was attracted to every bit of him. Except this part where he forgot she existed, probably because he was being lavished with attention by supermodels at some posh gala while she was trying to figure out how many Chips Ahoy she’d just eaten. She was guessing six, but her guess might have been low, she thought sadly.

  Britt’s phone lit up and buzzed. She swiped the screen and saw Jack’s name on the caller ID.

  “Hello?” she said, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

  “I’m downstairs at your building. Can I come up?”

  “Okay,” she said, torn. She was hesitant after her day of loneliness and uncertainty about letting him back in, but her need for him was too powerful to be wise.

  She didn’t run to the door, but to the mirror, and brushed her hair, pulling it back neatly and debating whether to put on eyeliner. She quickly put on some mascara and hustled to the door. She opened it right after he knocked and she knew it was obvious she’d been standing there waiting.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Jack handed her a bouquet of calla lilies.

  “They’re white as the Taj Mahal, Britt. I thought you might forgive me if I brought you something beautiful,” he admitted.

  “Forgive you for what?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

  Britt stepped back and set the flowers on the table, letting him inside.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, pushing a hand through his black hair.

  “We don’t have to talk about anything, Jack,” she said, not unkindly. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind about—about me.”

  “I haven’t. But my situation has changed,” he said, sitting down on her couch.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s good actually, but it’s bad timing. The software project I told you about that I did for a friend of mine? There’s a corporation in Hong Kong that just acquired it and they want me to join him to do training for their staff.”

  “You’re going to Hong Kong?”

  “Yes.”

  “For how long?”

  “A month probably. Maybe a little less if I can manage it, but...it’s not a great time for me to leave town and just pull the plug on what you and I—”

  “Don’t even. We’ve hooked up a couple of times. It’s not like we’re high school sweethearts, and you’re going to war, Jack. Let’s skip the dramatics and just say that we had fun, and you have a business trip.”

  “We had fun?” He said, his voice going cold. “I was going to say we could email and Skype and keep in touch, try to stay together long-distance, but if it was just fun to you, you know what, never mind,” he said, standing up.

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s better to let this go. It’s not like we were serious,” she said defensively.

  “I’ll see you around, then,” he said.

  His beautiful dark eyes seemed shuttered, his thoughts closed to her. She wondered fleetingly if she’d hurt him when she said they had fun. There was no way he was that attached yet...he was a guy after all. Her experience told her rather chauvinistically perhaps, that only women developed feelings quickly, that men had to be coaxed and sometimes shouted at before they admitted to an emotion. The evidence was clear. He was leaving the country, which was a pretty strong statement that they weren’t going to be together.

  “Have a safe trip. I’m sure you’ll have an adventure in Hong Kong.”

  “It’s a nice place.”

  “I have your shirt and stuff I borrowed,” she said halfheartedly.

  Britt took the folded shirt and shorts from her laundry basket and took it to him, somehow reluctant to return them.

  “I figured you’d want them because you probably got the shirt as a souvenir from New Zealand...”

  “Never been there. My brother owns that bar. He sent me the shirt after he bought it.”

  “You have a brother?”

  “Yeah. He runs a bar.”

  She smiled. “Anyway, here’s the shirt.”

  “Keep it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks,” she said wryly, holding the shirt to her chest, relieved and sad at the same time to get to keep it.

  “We had fun then,” he said with a sigh and held out his hand.

  “Yes,” she answered, her voice a little shaky. She took his hand and held it for a moment.

  Jack kissed her hand. It happened so quickly she wasn’t even sure he’d done it, except for the distinctive tingle on her skin where his lips had brushed the back of her hand. Then, he was gone. She was holding his shirt, staring at her own hand like a mental patient. She laid her hand on the door and shut her eyes.

  After a few minutes of deranged pacing, she put the shirt down on her kitchen table and went downstairs to collect her mail. She glared at the padded envelope in her mailbox. Back in her apartment, she set it on the bed as gingerly as if it were C4 instead of a Victoria’s Secret order. It was absolutely humiliating.

  Britt dialed Jack’s number.

  “Listen, I did something stupid, which isn’t that unusual for me, but I wanted you to know that you’re basically pretty much right about me.”

  “What?”

  “About me being a complete hypocrite and protesting all the time about how I don’t want to be with you and then acting the total opposite of that. See, I thought of it like this, like Kevin left me and you found me, like I just washed up on your shore.”

  “My shore?”

  “Stay with me on this. I have a point. It may take a while, but there’s a point here.”

  “Okay, I’ll trust you on that,” he said.

  “This isn’t something that happened to me. I got up and approached you and asked you to have dinner with me and basically pursued you. I wanted your attention. I asked you questions all the time, just to keep you talking. I thought about you all the time.”

  “All the ti
me?”

  “I have this envelope...I went and got it right after you left, and it might as well say LIAR all over it. I ordered all this underwear, sexy underwear because I wanted you to see it and like it and want to have more sex with me. I never bought black lace underwear when I was with Kevin. One night with you and I was burning up my charge card in hopes of getting another night with you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I have all of this, and I need to send it back, just return it, I know. You’re going to Hong Kong, and I was a total bitch about it, so it’s not like the panties are going to get any action but...come back, okay? I’ll try to be less uptight about whatever we’re doing, as long as we’re in this together.”

  “Was that an apology for the appalling ‘we had fun’ earlier?”

  “Yes. You can consider that an apology. I’m sorry I said that. It was more than fun. You were wonderful, and I couldn’t make up my mind because I’m worried about what people will think.”

  “I doubt people are as hard on you as you are on yourself. You struck me at first as a woman who made no apologies. Some guy dumped you, you picked up a better one and enjoyed your anniversary meal anyway. Your date gives you shit about your dress being too short, you play along and laugh instead of pouting. I like that. It’s the Jekyll and Hyde thing I can’t handle.”

  “I’m going to try to tone that down. Maybe work on doing what makes me happy instead what I think SHOULD make me happy.”

  “Didn’t you date what should make you happy for about six months?”

  “Yeah. He was bad in bed. And also cheated on me. He gave me roses for my birthday.”

  “What’s wrong with roses? They’re a classic.”

  “They’re predictable. I could just see a future of roses on birthdays and anniversaries and a nice sensible sweater every Christmas. A Caribbean cruise for our twenty-fifth. It made me itch just thinking about it.”

  “The sweater or the idea of the sweater.”

  “Just the idea of it. I felt hemmed in.”

  “I’m not trying to hem you in. I want to see you break loose and go wild.”

  “I have the underwear for it,” she giggled. “I never thought of myself as wild until you got to me. Then the next thing I knew, I was hitting on young guys at the gym! I need guidance, direction if I’m going to succeed at being wild. Will you help me? So while you’re gone will you...message me or call me or something?”

  “Everything. Yeah. I’d like to see where this can go, you and me.”

  “Besides naked, you mean?”

  “Never rule out naked as a possibility. We’re very good at it.”

  “Better than good,” she agreed.

  ***

  The following afternoon, Britt was entering receipts at her desk when her phone pinged. A message from Jack.

  “Touched down in Hong Kong. I’d rather be touching you.”

  She couldn’t resist smiling any more than she could resist the man himself.

  “When you get home, I’m taking you out to dinner. I know a place where the margaritas kick ass,” she replied with a grin.

  To be continued...

  Book 2

  The Boss’s Son

  Part 2

  By

  Sierra Rose

  Copyright © 2015 by Sierra Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This is Part 2.

  Chapter 1

  Britt Collier made the rounds of the cubicles at Creative Consulting where she was the staff accountant. The new insurance came with a host of forms and as bookkeeper, they fell to her lot. On her way into marketing, she passed by Jack’s empty desk. She sank into his swivel chair and sighed, missing him. She’d left her phone in a drawer back in her cube or she would have messaged him a selfie from his desk space. As it was, she slid open his drawer out of curiosity. Trail mix. Ink pens. Sticky notes. No candy. No cash. Nothing incriminating like dirty pictures of Luke in the next cubicle or anything interesting like that. Disappointed, she pulled out the ball cap from his other drawer and sniffed it unabashedly. It smelled like his cologne, a sexy musk with tones of cinnamon.

  She made herself get up and take paperwork to Luke. Marj, her best friend, was sitting on Luke’s desk, her legs crossed high at the knee, her skirt hitched up to show some seriously toned and tanned thigh. Luke’s hand slid across her smooth skin.

  “Behave yourselves, little ones,” Britt said. “I have soul-killing paperwork for you. Phillip’s getting us better insurance but you have some opt-ins to decide on. Good news...dental’s included! Bad news...loads of forms to fill out.”

  “Hey, sunshine,” Marj quipped. “Way to kill my afternoon.”

  “What? You weren’t hard at work creating a new marketing platform to take us to the NEXT LEVEL?”

  “If Phillip keeps saying the next level in staff meetings I’m going to turn it into a shot game,” Marj threatened.

  “I’ll pack a flask,” Luke put in.

  “At least he’s not trying to feel us up like Freeman was.”

  “We all know Freeman was all over the ladies,” Marj told Luke.

  “Not just the ladies,” he corrected with his eyebrows raised and they laughed.

  “Phillip is a total upgrade from that creep. I just hope he doesn’t turn into a total slave driver with this expansion he’s planning.”

  “He won’t. We’re his retirement project, remember. He’s not going to fast track anything too bad,” Britt said reassuringly.

  “Hey, couldn’t you just have emailed this stuff?” Luke said, smiling. “I was talking to Marj about some important work related stuff.”

  Marj smiled at him seductively and he grinned devilish.

  Britt laughed. “Sure you were. Anyway, I could feel my ass getting bigger just sitting in my cube all day. It gives me an excuse to walk around a little. Support my commitment to wellness.”

  “Well, then you and your wellness should stay out of the break room. There’s donuts,” Luke offered helpfully as Britt wandered off to distribute more paperwork.

  Britt looked longingly toward the break room but stayed away, opting to take a stack of papers to Phillip’s secretary. When she returned to her cube, she checked her phone and there, making her smile, was a message from Jack, her boss’s hot-as-hell son. He was doing software training in Hong Kong so they were trying to start a long distance relationship. It wasn’t easy but this was only the second day, so it was still exciting.

  How’s your day, beautiful?

  Britt grinned and held the phone for a minute, gazing at it with an adoring look that must’ve been meant for the sender, not the device. Certainly she wished she were holding Jack’s chiseled face instead of a Samsung Galaxy.

  Handing out insurance pprwk. How ru?

  Lonely. It’s one a.m. here.

  Go to sleep lol.

  I miss you too much.

  Gone 2 days miss me already?

  Yes wish u were here

  Go have margarita in my honor then

  Hvg margarita without u is cheating! His reply made her laugh.

  No it’s not. Ur free to drink w whoever u hv yr freedom!

  I don’t want my freedom.

  All her breath went out in a whoosh. She read the text about six times before answering.

  Go 2 sl
eep ur hallucin8g, she replied jokingly.

  Call me

  Britt looked around, wondering if she dared risk calling him during working hours. Anybody could walk by her cubicle or come to ask a question about the damned insurance forms. Still, he was the boss’s son and in this case, she could use that to insist it was a business call if anyone questioned it. He could be marooned in Hong Kong with a pressing co-pay inquiry or wondering about the new out-of-pocket cap. Britt pressed call and waited.

  His voice, uniquely his—smooth and deep—said hello. She swallowed hard, butterflies in her stomach, her fingertips tingling from wanting to touch him.

  “I didn’t want to text this, Britt.”

  “What?” she gulped, breathless.

  “I’m falling for you. I knew it before I left, I know it more now.”

  “How could you possibly be falling for me?” she demanded, forgetting her insurance ruse entirely. “I’m insecure and I can’t make up my mind and you’re too good for me!”

  “Are you trying to talk me out of it?” He laughed and his laugh wrenched her because it was that low, private laugh she’d only heard in his bed.

  “No, I just—I find it hard to believe.”

  “If you were here, I’d make you believe it.”

  “Oh,” she breathed.

  “You have no idea how much I wish you were here right now. Talk to me.”

  “I’m at work,” she said, trying to suppress a giggle.

  “Oh, just tell them it’s a business call!”

  “Right. A dirty business call.”

  “You used to work for Freeman. Tell them it’s just a bad habit from your last boss.”

  “Way to kill the mood, Jack,” she teased. “Freeman isn’t my idea of foreplay.”

  “Well there went my plans. I was going to seduce you with a plaid tie and a bald spot. Good thing I hadn’t shaved the top of my hair off yet.”

  “Don’t you dare!” she laughed. “Invoking the groper is the anti-aphrodisiac, Jack.”

  “I’ll have to work on a new fantasy then,” he said. “Any preferences?”