“Was your split amicable?” I asked, absently wondering what kind of idiot would let this man, this prize, go.

  “Nope.” Griff smiled sadly. “I took a bad hit financially, but at least I’m finished with that crap.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Life sucks, then you die.” He chuckled. “What about you? Boyfriends?”

  “One in college,” I replied. “He played football, and he was cool. For a while. Then he got clingy, controlling.” I smiled. “He accused me of cheating, too. I didn’t, never would. So I told him to take a hike.”

  “I bet he didn’t like that.”

  “He didn’t. He stalked me, threatened me. Until I called security.” I recalled the look on Brent’s face when he was arrested. Furious, and stunned that I’d dare report his abuse. “He quit bugging me after that.”

  “And he hasn’t tried again?” Griff asked, his eyes narrowed.

  “I still get the occasional email and text reminding me that I’m a bitch. But he hasn’t shown up in person.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Griffin, you son of a bitch. You never told me you had a daughter.”

  Chapter Four

  Griffin

  I shut my eyes and took a deep breath to calm the instant rise of anger that seized me the moment she spoke. She stood beside our table, her expensive perfume wafting into my nostrils.

  “Hello, Fiona. Good to see you.”

  “Who is this?” she demanded.

  I glanced at her finally. The years since I’d last seen her hadn’t been exactly kind. Fiona had gained weight where she’d once been slim, and crow’s feet marked her face in an unpleasant fashion. She wore a silly, fringed pantsuit as white as her hair, her neck and fingers bedecked with jewels.

  “You should email me if you want to chat,” I replied. “I’m sorry, but you’re rudely interrupting.”

  Roxie met Fiona’s direct gaze without flinching; no mean feat, considering Fiona’s ability to intimidate others. Roxie smiled slightly and made no offer to introduce herself. Fiona’s brows lowered over her narrow nose, her mouth sliding back into a feigned smile.

  “I’m Fiona, Griffin’s wife,” she said, holding out her hand. “And you are?”

  “Roxie.”

  The pair shook briefly. In Fiona’s thinly veiled outrage, I also recognized pure, green jealousy. She never could conceal her emotions, especially from me. Fiona glanced between us, fairly simmering with anger that I’d dare take a lady young enough to be my kid on a date. I read it on her face and in her stiffened body language.

  “We settled our divorce a long time ago,” I commented lightly. “Now, will you please leave?”

  Fiona laughed, a shrill sound. “Why I think we should catch up, don’t you agree? How have you been, Griff? I never thought of you as a cradle robber.”

  Roxie stiffened, but she continued to smile politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, but you’re being extremely rude.”

  “Are you fucking him?” Fiona didn’t bother to lower her voice, and heads turned toward us. “He’s rather good in bed, don’t you think? Were you a virgin before you met him?”

  I stood, barely controlling my fury. Roxie’s skin turned first pink, then a dark red as she, too, stood up. “Get away from me,” she growled, her voice not traveling past our table.

  “I don’t take orders from children,” Fiona snapped. “Only sluts wear clothes like that.”

  “Fiona.” I leaned into her face, making her look at me. “You’re creating a scene.”

  “Do I care?” She laughed again. “My husband is making it with a teenager. Isn’t that a crime? Hey, someone call the police, he’s a pedophile.”

  Fiona’s loud voice and accusation not just silenced the entire restaurant but drew the attention of the maître’d. He rushed toward us, his expression frantic.

  “Please, Mrs. Graham, you must calm down.” He tried to draw her away, gesturing for her to return to her table.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she snarled, flinging her arms away from him. “I have the right to say what I want.”

  “Then say what you have to, and get away from me,” I snapped.

  “You’re a pedophile,” she screamed. “You’re cheating on me with this slut.”

  “I’m 24 years old,” Roxie shouted at the same time I bellowed, “We’re fucking divorced. Now get out of here.”

  Glaring pure malice, Fiona appeared ready to launch herself, long fingernails at the ready, at Roxie. I reached forward, intending to block her path and stop her before she could. The maître’d and a waiter intervened, moving almost as one.

  “Excuse me,” the maître’d said coldly, “it’s time for you to leave.” He took her arm while the waiter stood ready to take the other.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Fiona screeched.

  “You’re leaving now,” he snapped, “or the police will be called.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  The waiter took her free arm, and together he and the maître’d turned her around. Knowing Fiona, I suspected she’d scream and threatened to have them arrested for assault. She did indeed yell as the two marched her through the tables amid the gaping guests toward the door. At long last, silence reigned. The guests continued to stare for a while before finally resuming their meals and conversations.

  Deeply embarrassed, yet still furious, I took Roxie’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You married that harpy?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” I encouraged her to sit down, then I took my chair. “Now you know why I divorced.”

  The waiter appeared like a genie with a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses on a small silver platter. Taking a moment to regain control of my emotions as he poured for both of us, I watched the tension slide from Roxie’s face. She met my gaze with a half-smile, then shrugged lightly.

  “Well, you’re free of her now.”

  “I thought I was.” I nodded to the waiter, who left the bottle on the table and departed. “I’m sorry, I should have taken you to a different restaurant. We used to come to this place all the time, but I had no idea she’d be here.”

  Roxie lifted her glass of wine, smiling. “Let’s drink to your freedom.”

  “Here, here.” I chuckled and clicked my glass against hers. We both drank, our eyes on each other. “Is our first date ruined?”

  “Not in the least. A little drama now and then blows the cobwebs from the brain.”

  I laughed. “You’re wise beyond your years. And I’ll admit you handled everything very well.”

  “Good. Because I came close to punching her into next week.”

  Leaning toward her, I murmured, “How about we forget about her drama and enjoy one another’s company? And a nice steak dinner.”

  Roxie also leaned forward, her green-gray eyes fixed on mine, the romantic light turning her lovely face into something exotic, striking. “I’d like that very much.”

  ***

  I’d known her a week. We’d spent almost eight hours a day together through that week. Leaving the restaurant with her hand in mine, I felt as though I’d known her all my life. Her small hand in mine, her closeness, had become so right, so natural. The difference in our ages mattered as little as a dust mote caught in a sunbeam. Not even in the early heady days when I first fell in love with Fiona did I feel like this.

  “Thank you for dinner,” Roxie said as we stopped by her car. “I enjoyed myself.”

  “So did I.”

  The late-night air, warm and slightly humid, brushed across my face, soft and pleasing. I stood close to her, trapping her between me and the BMW, yet Roxie’s expression, her smile, didn’t alter a hair. Sliding my hands around her tight waist, I bent to kiss her. Nor did she recoil from my advances. Her lips parted under mine, opening to allow my tongue inside.

  To say our first kiss was erotic could easily be the understatement of the century. Just her tongue dancing the tango with mine sent blood rushing to my groin, heating me instantly, the longing to possess her body filling me like a tsunami. Take it easy, stud. Push too hard, she might not take it well. Still, her welcoming reaction, her arms around my neck, our bodies pressed together, all informed me she just might accept my invitation to go to my house.

  Reluctantly, I broke our kiss and smiled as I stared down into her magnificent eyes. “You’re incredible, Roxie,” I murmured. “So beautiful, so tough, and yet so soft. I’m glad we met.”

  “Me, too.”

  I chuckled, breathless. “So you’ll be back to work on Monday?”

  In answer, Roxie turned her head and rested her cheek against my chest. I held her tightly, her small breasts hard against me, the top of her head lightly brushing my throat.

  “My dad will kill us,” she murmured at last.

  The image of Carson’s fury at me not just dating his daughter but also making love to her, or so I hoped, rose in my mind. “I know.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Carry on. We work together, see where this goes. If it’s real for us, it’ll happen.”

  “Is it real, Griff?”

  “It is for me.” I brushed a kiss to the top of her head. “I hope it is for you, too. No, don’t even think it’s lust to get into your panties. It’s not.”

  Roxie chuckled. “Sam said that’s all you wanted.”

  “What?” I pushed her away so I could look into her eyes, her face. “When was this?”

  “This happened the other day,” she continued, smiling. “You’ve been working on this project, so I didn’t have a chance to tell you. And I didn’t want to ruin this evening by bringing him up.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He offered me money to spy on you.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah. Not what I said, though.”

  “So what did you say?”

  “Oh, my God.” Roxie snorted laughter. “I told him he couldn’t afford me. Okay, I led him on a little. Then he asked my price.”

  “And your price is?”

  She grinned into my face. “His head on a pike.”

  “Holy shit.” I gaped, my own laughter welling until it burst. “I bet that went over like a fart in church.”

  “Oh, he was pissed. Made a vague threat about who I was messing with. And that I didn’t owe you anything.”

  “It’s true. You don’t.”

  “That’s not for you to decide. Anyway, I don’t like him, and I don’t like spying. I don’t know why you keep him working for you if he’s spying.”

  Releasing her, I leaned against her car and pulled her into me, my arms around her waist. “The board likes him. Not just that he reports to them, or rather one member, but he cranks out software like you wouldn’t believe. He’s incredibly talented and runs his team quite well. He’s not a micro-manager, and they like him.”

  “They don’t realize he’s a coldhearted bastard?”

  “He doesn’t show that side to very many.” I brushed my finger down her cheek. “I’m surprised he showed it to you. He should have applied the charm instead of his bite.”

  “I think he saw I’m immune to charm,” Roxie replied. “He read me the same way I read him.”

  “Are you immune to my charm?” I asked, sly.

  She chuckled. “What charm would that be? You’re my boss, and I have to do what you tell me.”

  “Oh, low blow, girl.” I faked a groan. “You just hit me where it hurts.”

  Standing on tiptoe, Roxie kissed me even as she grinned. “Does that make it better?”

  “Much.”

  Roxie walked her fingers up my chest to my chin, then tickled my lips with her nails. “Listen, I should get going. It sounds corny, but I don’t want my folks to worry.”

  “You’re considerate. I like that.”

  She shrugged. “I’m an adult, but they still think of me as their little girl. Since I do live with them, I don’t want to break what few rules they set.”

  “Ever think about moving out?”

  “Sure, when I’ve saved enough money for my own car, my own place, all that shit. I graduated last month, you know.”

  “I know. I don’t mean to disrespect your decisions.” I rubbed my nose against hers. “It’s just that I want to see you without your old man hanging over our heads.”

  “Like that’ll happen.” Roxie blew me a kiss, then pulled her keys from her small bag and unlocked the car. “Thanks again, Griff. I had a nice time.”

  “Can I call you?”

  Feeling like a teenager for asking, I also suspected it was the right thing to do. By just calling her without permission, I was her boss. Roxie turned from the car and pulled out her cell. “What’s your number?”

  I told her as she plugged my information into her phone. “I just texted you mine.”

  Sure enough, my cell in my pocket vibrated. I smiled, then kissed her lightly. “Next time I take you to dinner, I’ll take you someplace my ex doesn’t know about.”

  Roxie smiled, then got into the car. “Fair enough. See you Monday.”

  I worked too hard to ever feel lonely. My life was spent at the office, pouring everything of me into the company. But as I watched Roxie drive away, loneliness settled its unwelcome presence into my gut. I didn’t just want her working for me, or in my bed.

  I wanted her in my life.

  Chapter Five

  Roxie

  At nearly 12:30, I quietly let myself into the house and locked the door behind me. Darkness lay across the house, so I assumed my parents were asleep upstairs. But as I passed the living room, I saw Dad lying on the sofa watching television.

  “How was your date?” he asked, yawning as he sat up.

  “Great. Why are you still up?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “Daaad.” I sat near him and took off my black fuck-me shoes before leaning against the sofa’s back. “I’m an adult. Hello? I can take care of myself.”

  “Can you?” He eyed me, his arm behind his head. “Ever hear the phrase ‘date rape’?”

  Griff’s your friend, you know he’d never do that. However, my father didn’t know I’d gone out with Griff, his old school friend and my boss. “Yeah, I see your point.”

  “You’re a very pretty girl, Rox,” he said seriously. “So much so I want to screen your every date, meet every potential boyfriend. I worry about you.”

  “Don’t,” I exclaimed, horrified.

  “Obviously, I’m not going to,” he replied, impatient. “I know you have a good brain in there and the right instincts. But one day, those instincts might let you down. It can happen.”

  I looked at the muted television. “I know it can,” I said softly. “But my instincts are right about this guy, Dad. He’s a good one.”

  “So you’ll see him again?”

  Yeah. Come Monday. “He said he’d like to see me again.”

  “When can Mom and I meet him?”

  I tried not to roll my eyes but failed. “When I know you’re not going into papa bear mode and getting all growly.”

  My father laughed. “I think it’s the mama bear you have to worry about. If he isn’t up to Mom’s standards, he’ll be in a world of hurt.”

  I sighed heavily. “This dating thing while living with my parents can be a real drag.”

  “Too bad, so sad, sucks to be you.”

  “Grow up, Dad.”

  “Nuh, uh. Being an adult is no fun, no fun at all. Responsibility, watching your child diss you, mortgages, your child dissing you, working half to death to raise said dissing child.”

  “I get it, jeez.”

  “All the fun you get to have since you want adulthood so bad.” He pouted, leaning his head against the sofa’s back. “Pweeze take care of your old man, pwetty pweeze.”

  I laughed. “Maybe. If you’re nice.”

  “I loaned you my car. Isn’t that being nice?”

  “Next time, I’ll borrow Mom’s.”

  “Like hell you will.” Dad snorted. “She won’t let me drive it.”

  “That’s because you scratched it when you parked it in the garage.”

  “I don’t remember that incident.”

  “A sign you’re growing senile.” I clicked my tongue. “Do you remember your way to your bedroom, or do you need help?”

  “Go away, I don’t like you very much.”

  Standing, I picked up my shoes. “Nighty-night, old man. See you in the morning.”

  “It is morning, or are you senile, too?”

  Smiling in the dark, I left him to climb the stairs to the second floor. In my room, I took off the slinky dress and donned the oversized t-shirt I slept in. I heard Dad pass my door on his way to the master suite he shared with Mom, then he headed down the hall to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth, I climbed into bed but lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

  And thought about Griff.

  I liked him. I liked him a lot. As sexy as sin itself, god-like in his good looks, Griff wasn’t a kid. He had the maturity most guys my age wouldn’t have until they passed 30. At least. He was also incredibly fun to be with, had a great sense of humor, and knew what he wanted in the world.

  Me. He wanted me.

  Did I want him the same way? I pictured him naked, sexy, erect, and wondered if Fiona’s words were spot on. Great in bed? I grew wet thinking about making love to him, his shaft deep in me, his weight pressing me down. In the dark, I teased my clit with my finger, imagining Griff teasing me, licking me down there, making me orgasm.

  I worked my finger faster, panting, my head thrown back as though his lips kissed and sucked my throat, his cock deep in me, thrusting hard, fast, nailing me to the mattress. In my fantasy, he was a considerate lover, bringing me pleasure before his own.

  I came, gasping, my orgasm exploding through me, my hand wet from my own juices. Breathing hard, I lay back on my pillow, relaxing, enjoying the aftermath of my climax. I daydreamed Griff would hold me in his brawny arms, safe and utterly loved, after a bout of wonderful, enjoyable sex.

 

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