Cuddle Bear, page 3
“Thank you again, W—Wick.”
His eyebrows danced upward and he smirked.
Holy Jesus, this man was going to set me on fire with that look.
“Three! Is that you?” My cousin Lacey was loud and always had been, and she danced around near the table in a tiny black dress that barely covered her behind. Her hair was short in a pixie cut, which was good because she’d always sort of reminded me of some fantastical character come to life. The hoop in her bottom lip glinted as she slid around the curved booth to my side and threw her arms around me. “You are out! You aren’t sitting in that boat of yours on the lake! You aren’t hiding with a book in your house! Are you okay?”
She’d clearly been drinking, but she was sweet, so I didn’t get as irritated with her as I might’ve someone else when she sat back and beamed at me. Wick stiffened at my side.
“And who is this lovely lady?” he drawled, but he didn’t offer to shake her hand like he had with Indy.
Lacey beamed at him, obviously not catching the frost in his tone—or not caring. “I’m Lacey! I’m Three’s cousin.”
“Three?” Wick frowned at me.
I groaned. “I’m Maurice Winston Baranov the third.”
“Three,” Lacey said, nodding. “I’m his mom’s sister’s daughter. And who might you be?”
“Wick Guidry.” I wasn’t sure when his arm had snuck across the back of the booth, but he dropped it to my shoulders, and I wasn’t in any hurry to shrug him off. He reached for her hand, and I knew what was coming when he leaned closer, but it burned to watch him playfully brush his lips over her knuckles. “I am charmed, Miss Lacey.”
She laughed hysterically, thanks to the alcohol in her system—although, she might’ve done that anyway—and plopped hard against the back of the booth at my side. Then, out of nowhere, she punched my arm.
“Hey!”
She pointed at me and scowled. “That guy from your office? The one I met at the barbecue you had?”
“Edgar Celestine,” I mumbled, the trouble from earlier making me groan. “He’s been bugging me all week.”
The arm over my shoulder tightened.
She shook her head. “I told him I would only go on a date with him if it’s a double date with you and someone else, and now he’s asking if I have a girlfriend for you. Didn’t you tell him?”
I shushed her and could feel the questioning look from Wick. I ignored it.
The beer in front of me was a nice distraction, so I drained half the glass. “Can’t you just tell him no?”
She shrugged and her bottom lip jutted. “I hate confrontation. Normally I would ghost him, but he works with you.”
I nodded because I felt the same way about causing a scene.
“I can tell him no,” Wick growled, taking me by surprise, and Lacey giggled.
“You can’t,” I said, not even bothering to think about it. “Absolutely not. He’s your employee.”
Interest sparkled in Lacey’s gaze as she shot a glance between me and Wick, and I ignored that, too.
“I’ll just tell him I’m not interested,” she said, voice a touch too high.
“You won’t.”
“Ugh.” She rested her chin on the table. “I won’t.”
Wick nudged his knee against my thigh, and I turned a little more in his direction. “Want to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget?” His evil smirk had my cock plumping in my boxers. What I wouldn’t give to get that look under different circumstances.
“Yes, I do.” Lacey bounced on her seat.
Wick tilted his head toward me. “Take me as your date. He’ll never ask you to do anything like that ever again.”
Lacey snorted and covered her mouth with her palm—I wasn’t sure if she thought it was as ridiculous as I did that Wick would ask me to go on a date. I flushed. God, wouldn’t it be nice if he really wanted a date? I finished off my beer to give myself time to think, but in the end, I nodded because it would be hilarious to see Edgar’s reaction.
“Okay.” I settled my glass back onto the table. “Why not?”
Lacey clapped her hands, and Wick chuckled. I wasn’t sure if I was more excited or horrified, but I couldn’t discount the fact that it would be a lot of fun to get dressed up and go out and watch Edgar slowly melt into a mortified puddle when he sat down at a table somewhere with Wick.
Lacey grabbed my hand and one of Wick’s. Her eyes were bright with excitement. “Let’s do it Friday night. I have fifty-seven messages on my phone from this guy. Fifty-seven. He sent me a sonnet this morning.” She widened her eyes at us.
“Okay,” I agreed faintly, while Wick nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, I really don’t like that guy, either.”
“What? Since when?” I stared at him.
Wick only shrugged, and I settled in, leaving the plotting to my cousin and boss.
3
WICK
My phone buzzed and I picked it up, then smirked at the screen.
Lacey: All set! Edgar will be there. All you need to do is bring Maurice and meet us at 7. It’s going to be a great time! ~Ciao
Grinning, I sent back a thumbs-up. Maurice’s cousin was delightful, which made sense because he was, too. I checked the time and swore under my breath—it was already 6:16 p.m. and I had no idea how it had gotten so late. I jumped up and snatched my gray suit jacket from the back of my chair, and while I stared at the door to make sure I didn’t get caught doing too much for our date, I opened the top drawer of my desk and grabbed out a bottle of Bleu de Chanel. Taking this much care for a fake date was probably too much, but I spritzed myself. If I was going to be close to Maurice tonight, I didn’t want him to have any complaints. I stuffed the cologne back in the drawer, then smoothed my suit jacket down.
Yes, I was doing this. Nerves raced through me, mixed with some excitement. No, it wasn’t a good idea.
I’d realized about three minutes after Lacey and I started planning to pull one over on Edgar Celestine that I didn’t have the best motivation. I honestly didn’t care too much that he wanted to date her, but it did burn my ass that he kept hanging around Maurice. I wanted that to end. His constant botheration of my assistant had crawled under my skin and stuck there. I wanted him to work and leave Maurice alone.
I was having trouble separating Maurice firmly into the “work acquaintance” category in my life, but oh well. He’d probably been more than a friend for a while. What could I do about it at this point? He had felt especially nice pressed up against my side on Wednesday night when we’d gone out together, and while it hadn’t gone farther than a friendly cuddle in the booth, which he hadn’t commented on at all, it was the best thing that had happened to me in some time.
I liked to have Maurice around, and I didn’t enjoy attractive men monopolizing his time. Yes, I was a bastard that way.
When I went out into Maurice’s office, Bern Evangelos was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him, flipping through stacks of papers. His head was bowed and his dark hair gleamed in the overhead lights. Bern was a tall, muscled man who filled out his clothing nicely, and he occasionally gazed up at Maurice as if he was an angel come to rescue him. For his part, Maurice was patiently perched on his desk chair watching over Bern. I ground my teeth until they squeaked. Was this just the week for hot guys to bother Maurice? I even liked Bern, but really?
“What is this?”
They both turned to look at me, and Maurice gave me a tiny shake of his head, so maybe I’d sounded unpleasant. Bern’s deep brown eyes were wide and a little scared when he glanced up, but I smiled at him because he truly was one of the best workers I’d hired in years. I squatted and laughed as I poked at the order forms he was sorting into stacks.
“Trying to learn our suppliers?”
“He’s doing well,” Maurice said, and I swore if I wasn’t there he might’ve reached out and patted Bern’s head as if he was a puppy. I got it, though. Something about the way Bern stared into your face when he was speaking about projects made it clear he needed gentle encouragement.
The young man in question puffed out his cheeks and nodded. “Yep. There are a lot of them.”
“Indeed.” I stuck out my hand.
Bern shook with me on autopilot, his gaze darting from the stacks of paper resting on the thick black carpet to the form he still held in his other hand.
“It’s well past the time I pay you to be here. Don’t work for free. This can keep until the weekend is over.”
He glanced up at me with a pained expression. “Yeah, but I wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing on Monday morning.”
There was an obnoxious knock, and I stood as a redheaded man stepped through the door with an absolutely outraged scowl. He glanced around, pausing to glower at the painting of a calm lake reflecting a night sky that Maurice had hung opposite his desk. “So, I was told that I could find Bern in here?” He stalked forward like a man who wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
Bern sat up straighter and waved a hand. “Down here, Izzie.”
“What?” the redhead snapped, ripping the sunglasses off his angular face before hooking them into the collar of his shirt. He stomped around the desk and stared down, not bothering to say hello to me or Maurice. “It’s time to leave. It was time an hour ago. I’ve been texting you.”
“Yes, I was just telling him that.”
The redhead narrowed his eyes on me, then offered his hand. “Israfel.”
“Wick.”
Bern coughed and nearly choked, and Maurice shook his head at us all.
“You were taking too long. I’m here to pick you up.” Israfel nudged Bern’s leg with the toe of his boot. He looked good, maybe dressed for a night out, but the green button-down he wore over a white T-shirt was about two sizes too big and swamped him.
I laughed. “Mr. Evangelos, go get your weekend started. You clearly have someone waiting. Monday is early enough for this mess.”
“I’ll make sure all the paperwork is organized for you.” Maurice reached down and grabbed one of the piles, then efficiently slid a clip over the top. “I promise they’ll be exactly the way you stacked them.”
Bern stood and gingerly stepped out of the circle of papers he’d made around himself, and Israfel glared. I couldn’t hear what Bern was whispering to Israfel as they hurried toward the door, but it was clear he would have a lot of sucking up to do. He must’ve disrupted plans by staying too long at work.
After they were gone, I chuckled. “Do you think that was Bern’s boyfriend? He doesn’t seem ready to handle him.”
“I think Bern’s the one getting handled,” Maurice said snidely as he continued working.
I snorted.
Maurice glanced at me and bent to grab another pile of papers from the floor.
I squatted down and began handing the stacks to him while he slid on clips.
A pinched smile settled onto his mouth. “Would it bother you if Bern had a boyfriend?” The quaver in his voice had me on edge.
“It would be extremely hypocritical of me if it did.” I glanced at Maurice out of the corner of my eye as I passed him another pile of papers. “Does it bother you?”
Maurice flushed and laughed, running his hand along the dark stubble on his jaw. “No, I would be in the same boat. I would have to call it the Denial.”
“The Denial? That’s the boat for hypocrites? What if we’ve accepted it and we’re happy about it?” A tidal wave of excitement rolled over me. I’d wondered if Maurice was gay, but I hadn’t known for certain.
Maurice shrugged and smiled.
“Are you ready to go out tonight?”
His brow furrowed and he glanced down his front. I liked what he was wearing—a lightweight long-sleeved mint-green shirt with a white tie. The colors popped and the outfit was tasteful. The black suit he wore complemented his body well. Overall, he appeared professional, and. . . . Well, since we were going on a date, I could think it to myself. It was a sexy style for him.
Should I say he looks good? I puffed out my cheeks. “I’ll drive us.”
“Oh, there’s no need.”
“I insist.”
Maurice shrugged. “Okay, if you’re going to be that way.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see Edgar’s face. Are you sure you’re all right with this?”
“Yes. Hell, it was my idea.”
He flipped the end of his tie back and forth and frowned as if he was thinking. “I would get it if you didn’t want anyone to accidentally hear we were dating. I don’t want to cause problems for you just to play a joke on someone.”
It was interesting to me that he was worried about my reputation and not his own, and I stored that away to consider later. “Is your concern because you’re my assistant? Anyone who works here knows you aren’t coasting.”
He flushed and shrugged.
“I’m not worried.”
A smile crept across his face. “Lacey said she hit the big one hundred in texts from Edgar today, so she’s desperate. She blames me for introducing them.” He shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “If this doesn’t work, she’s probably going to drop me in the middle of Lake Émeraude with a tasty necklace that will attract gators.”
“Oh yeah, big ones.”
He groaned, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
The phone on the desk rang and Maurice nearly leaped to answer it, jerking the handset from the cradle on the second ring. “Yes, this is Maurice Baranov.” He glanced at me, eyebrows marching up his forehead. “Yes. Yes. Thank you.” He hung up and rested his head against the back of his chair as he stared at me. “When did you tell your doctor’s office they could share your private info with me?”
“Oh, I trust you and it seemed expedient.”
His smile grew warmer. “Your cholesterol is apparently textbook perfect. No worries.”
“Excellent.” I rubbed my stomach. “I’ll be eating something fried for dinner.”
Maurice snickered, and I lifted his suit jacket from the back of his chair. He stilled as I moved behind him and didn’t say a word as he stood. I helped him slip the jacket on, then caressed my fingertips lightly over his shoulders, but I didn’t outright smooth the cloth down like I wanted to as he finished adjusting it.
“Such a gentleman,” he said, shaking his head.
Grinning, I walked around his shiny black desk stacked with paperwork. “You are my date, so you’ll receive the full treatment. No expense spared. No gesture too grand or too small shall be overlooked.”
He sputtered, and my stomach grew warm when he glared at me. “You’re knee deep in bullshit.”
“I’m not!”
He sighed, but thankfully he seemed more amused than annoyed. “You really don’t need to act this way.”
I opened the door for him and gestured out, and he ignored me as he walked through, chin tipped and nose in the air. I couldn’t help but chuckle again as I followed him. We navigated the maze of hallways that made up the innards of our workplace, then had to pass through the break room and behind the gray wooden reception desk to reach freedom. I held the glass door on our way outside, and he cut a glance at me from the corner of his eye.
“The last time I dated someone, he definitely didn’t hold doors. That’s nice. You should do that when you’re on a real date.” The fake outrage drained from his features until I was left with his usual even temperament. We walked sedately around the gray brick building to the parking lot on the side.
“What did this fellow do? Why didn’t he stand the test of time?”
Maurice sighed as I gestured to the reserved spot for my black Maserati Levante. I liked the vehicle because it was nice but not tiny. I hated small cars that felt as if they were going to get pushed off the road by a strong wind, and Maurice grinned at me as we approached it, so I hoped he liked it, too.
“Well?” I asked.
“The jerk bought me cake.”
“Cake?”
“Mm-hmm. It was a whole thing. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He adjusted the lapels of his suit jacket and bit his lip. “It actually ended our relationship.”
Bafflement sealed my mouth closed, but as I opened the passenger-side door for him, I blurted, “Why?”
He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Forget it.”
After he was situated, I went around to my side, settled in on the red leather seat, and then pushed the button to start the engine. I always loved the smell of a good car, but it was even better as my cologne mixed with Maurice’s. I shifted in my seat as my cock plumped and I sucked in a deep breath.
Distraction, I need a distraction. “I can’t let it go. I love baked goods. What if I order cake for dessert? I need to know if I’m ruining us before we begin.” I winked at him.
He picked at his seat belt and adjusted it. “This isn’t a real date, so don’t worry. Where are we going?”
I put the car in gear but didn’t move from the spot. “Answer my question? Please? You can’t say something like that, then not tell me.”
He flushed and I loved that look on him, but not the pained wince that followed. “Do you really want to know?”
“It’s cake. How does cake ruin a relationship?”
He stared at me with hooded eyes. “I started lifting, which I still do a few days a week for fun. I know you can’t tell.”
“Actually, I can. Your shoulders look really good. You’re solidly built.”
He grinned. “Thanks.”
I reached over and tapped his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and he swatted at me with a laugh. “How do we get from here’s some German chocolate cake to farewell?”
He hummed. “That is a good pick. Do you like it?”
“Doesn’t everyone love chocolate?”
He chuckled and settled back against the seat.
“Maurice! I don’t demand much of you—”
He raised an eyebrow in my direction.
“But you have to tell me what happened. You, sir, are a tease.”
