Bossed by the Single Dad: A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance Read online

  “Yep,” Ian said, smiling down at me. “Since I have so much time on my hands. That is what you said before, wasn’t it?”

  I looked at him faintly, my stomach dropping. “What?”

  “I’m the landlord. The old man with too much time on his hands. I went into the army when I was eighteen and retired earlier this year after twenty years of service.”

  My jaw dropped as I stared at him. I wished a sinkhole would open up and swallow me deep into the earth. Why had I said such stupid things about him? I was pretty sure my embarrassment caused me to flush from my head to my toes.

  I looked down, but that only brought Ian’s powerful thighs into my eye line. I didn’t want to be caught staring at him—again. This was already embarrassing enough.

  Strong fingers grazed my chin. He cupped my jaw and lifted my head until I was looking at him. “It was nice to meet you, Nikki. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if I can find a hot game of bingo, as befitting a retiree. See you later.”

  He let go of me, and even through my humiliation, I mourned the loss of his touch. A moment later, he was jogging away, and the view as he left was every bit as delicious as the view from the front. I watched him until I was out of sight, and then turned to find Mrs. D. doing the same thing.

  She grinned at me. “Wish I’d had a boss who looked like that when I was younger.”

  I made a half-hearted smile in return as she closed her window, but I couldn’t share her sentiment as I climbed the stairs to my apartment.

  What was the good of a gorgeous boss if I was going to die of embarrassment the next time I saw him?

  Nikki

  “Excuse me. Do you have any quarters?”

  At the sound of the soft voice, I looked up from my computer at the leasing office, but I didn’t see anyone standing across the counter from me. Then I looked down.

  A boy of perhaps nine or ten stood there, clutching a few bills in his hand. He looked shyly at me, blue eyes peeking out from behind tousled blond hair. His pale yellow t-shirt had some kind of capped superhero on it.

  “Sure. Gonna hit the vending machine?”

  The boy nodded. I smiled at him and then went in the back room to get some change. When I came out, his head was no longer visible beyond the counter—but his feet were. Leaning forward, I peered down at him. He was upside down, walking on his hands for a few steps before he lowered himself into a summersault and stood up.

  “Wow. That’s impressive. Where’d you learn to do that?”

  “From my dad.”

  It clicked then. “Is your dad Mr. Hayes?” I hadn’t seen Ian over the weekend, most likely because I’d worked both days at my other job. And each day when my shift was done, I’d hurried back to my apartment without looking around.

  He nodded. “I’m Cole.” Now that I knew he was Ian’s son, I could see the resemblance, especially around his eyes.

  “Nice to meet you, Cole. I’m Nikki.”

  “When did you start?” He pocketed the quarters I handed him.

  “Last week.”

  “Oh,” he said. “That’s why I haven’t seen you before. My mom and I went to visit my aunt and uncle last week. I got to miss four days of school.”

  He evidently considered that to be good news, so I smiled at him. But inside, my heart sank. Ian was married? It made sense. A man who looked that good had to have his pick of women. When I’d met him the other day, I hadn’t noticed if he’d been wearing a wedding ring—I’d been too busy drooling over his muscles.

  But it shouldn’t make a difference. Ian was my boss. And there’s no way in hell he’d be interested in someone like me. Men who could be mistaken for a Greek God didn’t go out with chubby girls. It was a law of nature.

  Cole was still looking at me, so I forced myself to respond. “Do you usually come here after school?”

  “Almost every day,” he confirmed. “Until my mom picks me up around seven.”

  “You live with your mom?” Relief coursed through me. It didn’t sound as if Cole’s mother and Ian were still together. Then I cursed inwardly at my attitude. I shouldn’t be happy that a little boy’s parents split up.

  “Except during the summer.”

  The phone rang, and I lifted the receiver and covered it for a moment. “I’ve got to take this. Enjoy your loot from the vending machine.”

  He gave me a slow, shy smile, and left.

  A few minutes later, Barb came in and showed me some more tasks that the front desk person was responsible for, but all in all, it was a slow evening. Apparently, not many existing or potential residents stopped by on a Monday.

  Barb seemed to recognize this, too. “Why don’t you go take a break?”

  “Really?” That was surprising. My shift was only for three hours—I wasn’t supposed to get a break.

  “Sure. Things are slow here tonight. Besides, there’s a guy out by the pavilion who I think could use some company.”

  A blush crossed my cheeks as I pictured Ian doing a backflip off of the beam of the wooden shelter the other day. But he was the last person I wanted to see. Well, okay, I did want to see him—who wouldn’t? But I didn’t want him to see me. Not after I’d embarrassed myself so much in front of him before.

  Barb raised an eyebrow at my expression. “Apparently, you made quite an impression on him. He was asking about you a little while ago.”

  “He was?” The surprise in my tone echoed around the empty office.

  “Yep. I think maybe someone’s got a little crush.”

  Which was true—but the person with the crush was me. On Ian. Not the other way around. There’s no way it could be the other way around.

  Barb smiled. “Go on, go have fun. I’ll hold down the fort. I’ve got to update some software on the computer anyway. It’ll take a while.”

  “All right, thanks.” The words were out of my mouth before I could hold them back. Clearly my brain and my mouth weren’t on the same page.

  Slipping out the side door, I headed straight toward the restroom by the pool. I turned on the light, shut the door behind me, and groaned at my reflection in the mirror. I’d known I might see him tonight—why hadn’t I worn something nicer? Not that I had a lot of nice clothes. It was hard to find things that looked good on me at my size. So many of the stores designed for women my age catered to single-digit sizes.

  Plus, buying new clothes was kind of counter-productive when I was trying to save money. And the store where I worked during the day was old and dusty. Anything I wore there quickly became dingy.

  Today I had on a scoop-neck long sleeve t-shirt in a pale lavender. Glancing down, I brushed off some lint. The shirt didn’t appear to be stained, so that was good. My day job required stocking shelves, and a lot of times my clothes ended up smudged. There were a few black marks on my khaki-colored slacks, but at least the coral polish on my toes was in good condition. I’d just painted them Sunday night. And my sandals, at least, looked nice.

  Pulling some paper towels out of the dispenser, I quickly washed my face and then applied a little makeup. With mascara, my hazel eyes popped more, but there wasn’t much I could do about my chubby cheeks. No need to put blush on them—they’d redden as soon as I saw Ian.

  It was tempting to put my light brown hair up to get it out of the way, but I knew it was my best feature. So I left it loose around my shoulders, arranging it in soft waves.

  Jeesh, you’d think I was getting ready for a date.

  I wished I were getting ready for a date.

  Not that I’d had one of those in a very long time.

  When I’d done the best I could, I walked out, took the long way around the empty pool, and headed over to the pavilion. It looked empty from a distance, but maybe Ian was doing some kind of strength training up in the rafters again?

  Just like the other night, a disembodied voice called out a greeting when I got close—but this time it wasn’t a deep, masculine one. Instead, it was a small, quiet one.

 
Looking around, I saw Cole sitting on a bench by the lake.

  I headed over. “Hello again. Is your dad around?”

  Cole shook his head. He was sitting cross-legged on the bench and now he put his palms on the bench on either side of him and lifted his lower body up. How on earth did he keep his balance that way? Apparently, like father, like son.

  “I think he’s fixing something in Building 3.”

  “Oh,” I said, half disappointed, half relieved. “Someone told me he was out here.”

  Still supporting himself with his hands, Cole somehow managed to shrug. “Just me.”

  Oh. Crap. That’s what Barb had meant when she said someone was hoping to see me. She meant Cole. How had I managed to misunderstand which Hayes Barb was referring to a second time?

  It was disappointing to know that Ian hadn’t mentioned me like I’d originally thought, but perhaps it was a relief. If I’d seen Ian, I don’t know what I would have said to him. And talking to Cole on such a beautiful evening on by the lake suddenly seemed like a perfect way to spend an unexpected break.

  “Where’d you learn to do all that?” I gestured at the pose Cole was maintaining.

  “My dad,” he said, lowering himself back onto the bench. “He knows how to do a lot of things like that.”

  I frowned, trying to process that. “Was he in some kind of circus branch of the army?”

  Cole laughed. “No, he was just an officer. But he always got bored with the—what do you call them? Oh yeah, calisthenics. So he invented his own ways of exercising. And he taught me.”

  “Wow. I saw you walk on your hands before. What else can you do?”

  “Lots,” Cole said simply. “Though not as much as him. He competes in obstacle races sometimes—you know, the type where you have to climb up stuff using just your hands and run and jump and swing. He can do everything.”

  The pride in Cole’s voice touched my heart. Though I’d never even seen them together, it was clear that father and son had a strong relationship. “Can you show me how you can walk on your hands again?”

  Cole’s face brightened. “Sure.” He sprung off the bench and seconds later, he was upside down, his legs perfectly straight up in the air. How on earth did he maintain his balance?

  “It’s not that hard,” he said, as if in answer to me. Then he folded his legs at the knee so his feet dangled over his head. He moved his right hand, then his left, taking a few steps. Then he lowered his legs and stood upright.

  I clapped, truly impressed. “When did you learn to do that?”

  “Years ago,” Cole said. “It’s really easy for me now, so I’m always trying to learn new things.”

  “Like what?” I was genuinely interested.

  “Like this.” He stood with his feet together and then crouched down. Then he stretched his body out, his arms over his head, his legs straightening as his back arched. Almost too fast to follow, his feet pushed off the ground and his body was a perfect arch, his hands reaching for the ground below him. His palms touched the hard earth below his head, and I expected him to flip over, but instead, he managed to slow the momentum of his legs and balance them above his torso in another perfect handstand. I’d never seen anything so cool.

  “That’s amazing, Cole. Really, truly amazing.”

  In a flash, his feet returned to the ground. “I could show you.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that any time soon.” Or ever. Generally, I was the type who had trouble walking and chewing gum.

  Cole looked at me curiously. “Didn’t you ever do a cartwheel when you were a kid?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, but that was a long time ago.”

  “It’s pretty much the same. You just put your hands down and kick your feet up. You should try it. It’s fun.”

  “I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.”

  “Just try it once. You can do it.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “I’ll show you.” Cole turned the full force of his blue eyes on me. “Please?” I’ve always wanted to teach someone.” He looked so eager. So enthusiastic. But there was no way I could do that without ending up in the lake. Or worse.

  Five minutes later, he’d worn me down. Or upside down, actually. Because I was bent over with my hands on the ground, trying to get my legs up in the air like he did.

  “Try again,” Cole said. “Just kick one leg up and let the other follow.”

  And that was the problem. Every time I pushed my first leg up in the air, I did it softly, afraid that if I kicked hard, the momentum would flip me over onto my back.

  Even after a few more failed attempts, Cole was encouraging. “This time, tighten your abs first.” I did so, sucking my stomach in where my shirt was tucked into my waistband “Kick your leg up hard, Nikki. I’ll catch it so you won’t fall over backwards. I promise.”

  I hesitated. It was fun being out here with Cole, but I didn’t want the evening to end in a trip to the emergency room for either of us.

  “I’m really strong. I’ll hold onto your calf and you can bring the other leg up. Just kick them up, one after another. You can do it.”

  “All right. But if it doesn’t work this time—or, you know, if I’m disfigured for life—this is the last try.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he said, and I laughed.

  Taking a deep breath, my abs still tightened, I kicked my right leg up. I pushed with my left a half second later, and suddenly I was taking all my weight my arms. My right left swung up over my head, and I would’ve overbalanced, but Cole had me, clutching at my calf with both of his small hands. I heard him shout something encouraging, but I was too focused on bringing my other leg up.

  Good god. I was doing a handstand. A real one even though Cole was helping me balance. But it was hard. My hands and arms were starting to tremble. Crap. We’d never talked about how to get out of a handstand safely. I tried to lower one leg, but it messed up my balance, and I felt like I was falling. Quickly, I straightened my leg back up and my balance was restored. But if I didn’t do something, I was going to end up in a heap of limbs at Cole’s feet.

  “Umm… do what I did in the office before. Tighten your abs, tuck your head to your chest and do a summersault,” Cole said, sounding far less calm than before. Clearly, he hadn’t had an exit strategy in mind, either.

  I tried to do what he said, but the moment I drew my stomach muscles in again, the edge of my shirt came loose from my waistband. Horrified, I felt the fabric slide across my breasts, pooling at my neck. Aware that my bra was now visible, my automatic response was to make a grab for my shirt. I didn’t even manage to lift my arm off the ground, the moment I even tried to move it, I overbalanced. My legs swayed backwards over my head, and I shouted as momentum sent me crashing toward the ground.

  A low voice barked something unintelligible, and there was a din of noise in my head as I cried out again. Then something was under my knees, slowing my fall. Someone had me, one arm under my legs and one under my back. Instead of crashing to the ground, I was lifted off of it.

  I was safe. Someone had me in his arms. I wasn’t going to end up smashing into the ground and breaking my neck. In my relief, I almost felt like crying. A soothing voice said, “I’ve got you.”

  Stunned, I clung to my rescuer, burying my face in a broad chest covered by a white t-shirt. Slowly, it dawned on me to look up, and I recognized Ian’s stubbled jawline. He wasn’t looking at me, but was instead scolding his son for putting me in danger.

  It felt like I should come to Cole’s rescue. I was as much to blame as he was, but instead, all I could do was cling to Ian’s shirt, feeling safe in his arms. And somehow feeling tiny in his arms—not exactly a sensation I was used to.

  He continued lecturing his son as I rested my hand on his chest, feeling the vibrations as he spoke. At last, he quieted, and I looked up into his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” His baby blues were filled with concern as he looked at me. But then his gaze
flicked to my chest, and I remembered my shirt had come loose when I’d been upside down before. Hastily, I reached up and tugged it into place, but I knew he’d seen the lacy pink bra I’d worn today. Exactly how many times was I going to embarrass myself in front of this gorgeous man?

  Evidently a lot.

  “Can you stand?”

  I couldn’t meet his gaze now that he’d seen me with my shirt up, but I nodded. Gently, he lowered my legs and set me on my feet.

  My knees felt like jelly. I could’ve been seriously hurt, and my legs were still shaky. My arms too, but that was probably less from the fright and more from supporting my weight before.

  Ian took a step back, but when I wobbled, he put his arm around my shoulder and led me over to the bench. I sat down gratefully as he settled in next to me. “Just sit here until you feel stronger. And no more learning tricks by an unauthorized, pint-sized coach.” This last part was directed toward his son

  “Sorry, Nikki,” Cole said, sitting on my other side. “I didn’t really think about how to teach you to get back down. I just do it automatically.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. At least my voice still worked—most of the rest of me wasn’t quite up to speed yet. “I think that’s going to be my first and last handstand.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” Ian said in his deep, rich voice. “They’re really good for core strength and balance, not to mention strengthening your hamstrings, inner thighs, and a half a dozen other muscles.”

  My breath caught at his mention of inner thighs, but he was likely just in full-on coaching mode and probably hadn’t meant anything by it. Just because I’d been having inappropriate thoughts about him didn’t mean he’d had them about me. “I think I’ll keep both feet on the ground from now on.”

  Ian chuckled. “That’s a shame.”

  Something about his tone had been different with those three words—or had it been my imagination? Surely he just meant because I was missing out on handstand-related health benefits, right?

  I risked a quick peek up at his face.