Bossed by the Single Dad: A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 6

  Hastily, I tried to reframe my utterance. “I just meant that—he doesn’t seem to have a lot in common with the children in his class. There—um… sometimes, there are some boys from his class who hang out by the pool, and he never joins them.”

  “Are you saying my son is anti-social?” Lydia’s perfectly groomed eyebrows drew together.

  “No, I’m saying he’s shy. It’s hard for him to approach them. And maybe he doesn’t have a lot in common with the kids in his class.”

  “How dare you! He’s my son, and you know nothing about him. Contrary to what Cole—or Ian—seems to thinks, you have no stake in our family. You’re not a relative, you’re not a friend—you’re my ex-husband’s employee. As such, you have no say whatsoever in how we raise our son. So stay the hell away from them.”

  “I—I would never…” I trailed off, stunned by her accusations. I knew I wasn’t family. I knew I had no say over what Cole did. Still, he was my friend, and I had eyes. I noticed things about him. And— “wait, did you say them?”

  Lydia had reached the door, but now she turned to face me. “Stay away from both of them.”

  “What? You can’t—”

  “Yes, I can. With Cole, I certainly can. And with Ian, well, let’s face it dear. Your crush is evident from a mile away. I’ve seen the way you look at him. Watch him. You think I don’t recognize puppy love when I see it? I saw it time and time again throughout our entire marriage. Women, even some of the female officers serving alongside him, threw themselves at him—sometimes right in front of me. What, did you think you were the only one? And he laps it up. He’s a man, of course. So he always finds it flattering.

  She pushed open the door but didn’t go out just yet. “But he will never think of you than anything other than his employee. Stop humiliating yourself and making everyone else uncomfortable.”

  Striding off, she let the door slam shut, leaving me shaking on the other side. Shaking with fury, yes, but also something deeper. Something more hurtful.

  Mortification.

  I’d never thought that my attraction to Ian was that obvious. But Lydia had picked up on it, and she’d only met me a time or two. And now that I thought about it, Barb sometimes subtly teased me about Ian, too.

  I groaned. Was I that obvious? The last thing I wanted was for people, Ian especially, to view me as a school girl with a crush. I was already a decade and a half younger than him. I didn’t need to act like an infant as well.

  My cheeks were still red twenty minutes later when Ian came in. “Going to the gym tonight?”

  I shook my head. “I think I’ll take the night off.”

  “That’s wise. Two or three times a week is good in the beginning. It’s best not to overdo it.”

  I nodded, pulling up a leasing screen on the computer in front of me.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Just tired.”

  Ian looked concerned. “Of course. You’re working two jobs—plus it’s always hard the first few weeks of an exercise program. You need to relax more.”

  I nodded, still looking at the computer screen.

  “Or go out for a nice dinner.”

  “Yeah,” I said, clicking a file open.

  “Like Friday night.”

  I was nodding so much that at least my head was getting a workout tonight. Wait, what? “What about Friday?”

  “Have dinner with me. Do you like Italian?”

  Stunned, I gawked at him. Was he asking me out? Or was he just a concerned friend? Or a concerned employer?”

  “Yes,” I said finally.

  Ian broke into a grin that was short-lived. “Yes you’ll go out with me or yes you like Italian?”

  “No.” I knew I was confusing him, but hell, I was confused myself. If he’d asked me before Hurricane Lydia had descended, I would’ve said yes. But I couldn’t. Not now. Not after the things she’s said.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I just—I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” His response was immediate.

  “It just isn’t.” But I knew that wouldn’t be enough for him, so I lied.

  “I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to.”

  Nikki

  How had it come to this? I’d been minding my own business. Holding down two low-paying, part-time jobs while trying to find one decent one. Minding my own business. Then that Greek God of a man ended up being my boss. And joining my gym. And generally showing up everywhere I turned. How was I supposed to put him out of my mind and stop making a fool of myself, as his ex-wife had said, if he was everywhere?

  Then there his son. Despite Lydia’s scary manner, no way was I giving up my friendship with Cole. He was a good kid. There was nothing wrong with being his friend.

  Glumly, I surveyed the dark interior of Morgan’s general store. I hadn’t seen a customer in almost an hour. Funny how we never sold anything yet there was always stock to bring up from the dank basement. Maybe Mr. Morgan was making other employees take stuff from the shelves and put it downstairs. And then making me bring new stuff upstairs. Maybe he, like Ian, was trying to make me get my exercise.

  By my third trip up the stairs with boxes, I was tired. But somehow it seemed like I wasn’t as winded as I would’ve been before. Maybe the trips to the gym were starting to have an effect? That would be nice.

  Balancing two boxes on my right side, I reached for the door with my left hand and nearly tumbled back down the steps when it opened on its own accord.

  “There you are.” I couldn’t see any details about of the tall figure with the light behind him, but I knew that voice.

  “What are you doing here, Ian?”

  “Here, let me take those,” he said impatiently. He whisked the boxes away, and I stepped up onto the main floor, mutely showing him where to stack them.

  I sneaked a peek at him while he did. Today he had on black jeans and a blue cotton button-down shirt. Had I ever seen him in anything but shorts? Pretty much anything looked good on him, though. That much was clear. I hadn’t seen him since last week when he asked me out. If that’s what that had been. I still wasn’t sure.

  After setting the boxes down, Ian leaned against the wall by the back exit. “I came here and was surprised to find the place empty.”

  “Yeah… we don’t get a lot of customers, so usually only one of us works at time.”

  Ian squinted around the cluttered storefront. “Is that safe?”

  I shrugged. “I think so. I only work during the days. Plus, very few people come in.”

  “I could’ve emptied the cash register while you were downstairs.”

  “It’s locked.”

  “I could’ve taken a bunch of merchandize.”

  “Yeah, but would you really have wanted to?”

  He chuckled and glanced around. “I guess not.” He looked over at me, and I brushed some dust off my shorts. “Do you have more boxes to bring up?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll help.” He headed toward the stairs I’d just climbed.

  I wanted to protest that he shouldn’t be down there, but really, what did it matter? There wasn’t anyone else here.

  Downstairs, I showed him the boxes that needed to go up. “Shouldn’t take more than four or five trips.” But after picking up a tall stack of boxes—and handing me a small one to carry—he spotted the freight elevator. “Why not just load them all on that? Then we’ll only have to make one trip. Which is good, because we need to talk.”

  Crap. That didn’t sound good. Still, one problem at a time. “Sometimes I use the elevator, but it’s not really reliable. Sometimes it doesn’t work right.”

  Ian scoffed. “What’s it going to do, start moving sideways? Come on.”

  In a few minutes there was a small wall of boxes lined up on the floor of the ancient elevator. “See? One trip.” Ian pushed the button, and the elevator door closed with a groan. It started rising at an agonizi
ngly slow pace—until it made a loud grinding noise and lurched to a halt. Ian looked at the door expectantly, clearly thinking it would slide open any second now. But I knew better.

  We weren’t in the basement anymore. Nor were we at the first floor. The elevator had stopped somewhere in between.

  After a moment more, Ian swore. Being a take-charge guy, he confidently punched the door open button. Then the first floor button. Then every other button on the panel, including alarm. None of them seemed to have any noticeable effect.

  “Shit,” he said, pulling out his cell phone. I’d already checked mine—no signal. Finally, he sighed and looked at me. “So… I heard that this elevator doesn’t always work right.”

  In spited of the situation, I had an urge to smile at his echoing of my earlier words. “Yeah, I heard that too.”

  “Thank God I’m with a licensed employee. What do we do now?”

  “We wait for the next licensed employee to show up and let us out.”

  “When’s that supposed to happen?”

  “At five.”

  Ian glanced at his watch. “Over an hour from now. Shit.”

  Something inside of me was still seeing a bit of humor in the situation. Ian was not the kind of man who accepted it when things didn’t go as planned. “You could try pressing all the buttons again.”

  He actually reached out and pressed a few before he realized I was teasing him. He turned to me, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Is this the part where you say ‘I told you so’?”

  “No.” Though I had.

  “Won’t you be in trouble once someone lets us out and we find the shelves bare?”

  “Maybe,” I said. But no one ever came in here. Plus, the owner knew about the problems with the elevator. He’d just declined to get it fixed.

  Ian’s half-smile faded. “Is your purse up there?”

  That was thoughtful of him to be concerned about my stuff being stolen. “It’s in a locker.”

  “Good,” he said, leaning against the grimy elevator wall. “Guess we’re stuck here then.”

  I nodded.

  “Guess that means we have time to talk.”

  I shook my head, and he laughed. “You’re the one who found this funny. Not so funny now when you’re trapped in a tiny space with a man who’s determined to speak his mind.”

  Gulp. No, it wasn’t so funny because I really wasn’t sure I was ready to hear whatever he had to say. “I’ve got some stuff to say to you, too.” Not an hour’s worth of stuff, but maybe enough to stall him for a little while.

  He gestured to me, with a go-ahead motion, but then he paused. “Should I be sitting down for this?”

  We both looked at the dingy floor beneath us. He’d be okay with his dark jeans, but no way was I going to sit on it in my white shorts.

  Ian took in the problem at a glance, and his solution was to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off.

  I swallowed hard. I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, but that was always out in the open. Not close up like this.

  He lowered himself to the floor in a fluid movement, leaning against the elevator wall and stretching his long legs out in front of him. Despite my protest, he laid his shirt on the floor next to him and patted the space for me.

  Carefully, I sat down next to him, crossing my legs. The bare skin of my thigh touched the rough denim of his. Since we were sitting side by side, I wasn’t looking directly at him, which might make it easier for us to talk.

  “Okay, Nikki, you’re up.”

  I smiled in spite of myself.

  “What?” Ian demanded.

  “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Sports.”

  “Really? That’s your chosen topic for being stuck in an elevator? Okay… who’s your favorite football team?”

  “No, not that,” I said, starting again. “I think you should teach Cole some sports.”

  Frowning, Ian leaned back a little so he could turn and look at me. “What’re you talking about? He’s one of the most athletic kids on the planet.”

  “Yes,” I said, aware that I was butting in—just days after Lydia had explicitly told me to stay out of her son’s business. “But the handstands, backflips, handsprings. The obstacle courses. All those things are kind of… solitary activities.”

  “He does them with me.” Ian sounded defensive, and without thinking about it, I reached over and took his hand in mine, squeezing lightly. After a long moment, he squeezed back.

  “I know. But I think he’s a little shy. I was at his age, too. I still am, kind of. It’s hard for people like me and Cole to make new friends. And I don’t think Cole has much in common with the other boys in his class.”

  Ian was silent for a moment, but he kept his grip on my hand. “Has he told you this?”

  “Not in those exact words. But some of the kids from his school live at the apartment complex, and they play at the pool sometimes. Cole never goes over to join them.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I get the impression that he does. He just doesn’t know how.”

  Ian drew his knees up and rested his arms across them, letting go of my hand. “So where do sports come in?”

  I shifted a little, angling my body sideways so I could see him better. “I talked to him a little about it—kind of fishing for information in an indirect way. And a lot of the boys in his class play baseball. They’re in Little League and they practice a few times per week and have games on Saturday.”

  “Cole’s never shown an interest in baseball.”

  Ian sounded a little defensive again, so I made me tone as gentle as possible. “He’s shown an interest in everything you’ve ever taught him. He’s fast and strong, he’d be great at it.”

  “Do you think he wants to play on a team?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “I think it would a good way for him to make friends. Besides, he’s so athletic, so yeah, maybe he might like it.”

  “Maybe.” Ian’s voice was noncommittal.

  “Honestly, I think he’d be interested in it if you showed you were. You like gymnastics, so he’s interested in that. You like obstacle courses, so he’s interested in them.”

  “I like you, so he’s interested in you.”

  What?

  Ian smiled at the expression on my face. “You must’ve noticed that his face lights up whenever you’re near.”

  “Really?” My mouth formed the syllables, but my brain was dying to go back to the first part of what Ian had said.

  “You’re the fun older sister/cool teacher/favorite cousin he never had. All rolled into one.”

  “He’s a great kid.”

  “Yeah, he is. If I do say so myself.” Ian smiled, but then his expression turned more somber. “I guess maybe you’re right about him needing some way to connect with other kids his age. Growing up, he only met the kids from the military bases where we lived. There weren’t always ones around his age. And we moved a lot. I guess, maybe I never noticed it, but over time he grew more and more solitary.”

  “It’s hard. Being the new kid. But to my mind, he’s wonderfully well adjusted. I just think he could use a little help.”

  “Sports, eh? I never got too into baseball, football, soccer. I never really saw the challenge in it. Not like an obstacle race where you have to use every muscle in your body—not to mention your brain—to figure out how to get through the course. And I guess I got enough forced teamwork through my time in the service. But I know how to play. I can teach him.”

  “I think that’s a good idea, if he’s willing.”

  Ian grinned. “He would be if you suggested it.”

  I elbowed him in the ribs. “Are you kidding? That kid worships the ground you walk on. Or, rather, the beams, staircases, and tree branches you hang from.”

  Ian laughed. “Okay, okay, point taken. Now it’s my turn.”

  “To learn a sport?”

  “No.”
His voice was quiet yet firm when he looked at me. I froze under the power of his piercing blue eyes, unable to look away. “We need to talk about two things.”

  “Okay?” My voice was faint and rose at the end. Did I want to hear what he had to say?

  He took my hand again. “We have a problem.”

  “Okay?” I repeated, unsure of what else to say.

  “The problem is that you are a bright, young, college-educated woman who nevertheless believes two things that are completely untrue.”

  I wasn’t sure what I’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. “What do you mean?”

  Ian stared at me, holding me captive in his gaze again. After a long moment of intense eye contact, he spoke again. “False Assumption #1: You’ve somehow gotten the idea that you’re not beautiful.”

  “Oh, but…” I trailed off, having no idea how to finish.

  “Shhh.” Ian put the tip of one long finger to my lips, and I had an insane urge to kiss it. “False Assumption #2: You think that there’s no way I could be interested in you.”

  This time I was silent, staring at him in shock. If he was saying those things were false… then did that mean… could he possibly… My thoughts went around in swirling patterns in my head, reaching no conclusion.

  Ian smiled slightly at the confusion on my face. “That’s why I came here today. To make you see that those two assumptions were wrong.” He looked around the dingy elevator with a wry smile. “This isn’t quite the setting I was imagining, but I can work with it.”

  “What—what do you mean?”

  His finger moved under my chin as he made me lift him head up. “I mean, I’m going to prove you wrong.”

  “How?” My shaky voice made me realize I was trembling. With fear. With excitement. With… everything.

  “One at a time.” He smiled at me, and that calmed a few of my nerves. Just a few. “Do you remember that I said you were beautiful at the gym?”

  “Yes.” He’d said it while giving me a massage.

  “Did you believe me?”

  “Umm… well…” No. The answer was definitely no.

  Ian seemed to know that. “Why not?”

  “Because,” I said, not wanting to list my very obvious flaws.