Make-Believe Proposal, page 6
She'd never experienced anything like it before. True, going anywhere with her brother, the NFL star running back, involved paparazzi and fans, but they were never interested in anything she had to say. Generally, she was pushed to the back while Jax posed for photographs, but now, it was her name they were calling. And all because her boss had pretended to propose to her in a restaurant.
"Having fun yet?" asked Roland as they stepped through the wide double doors.
He glanced down at her, and she smiled. "So far, so good."
As they walked through the foyer, she couldn't help noticing the looks they got from the other attendees. Women looked on with envy, men with curiosity. June frowned, she'd never really noticed before just how much attention Roland attracted. Granted, when she was with him, they were usually somewhere quiet with the girls. But in this crowd, he was a star.
He led her through the crowded foyer and under a wide archway. The room they stepped into had been set up as a dining room, with round white-clothed tables surrounded by white-linen covered chairs, and a four-piece band in one corner.
People milled about all dressed in their finest gowns and tuxedoes. Some had already taken their seats, and she and Roland strode to the registration desk on one side of the room to find out where they were sitting. It turned out they were at the first table, next to the guest speaker, an obstetrician from New York, and her husband. The rest of the table was made up of the president of the association, the fundraiser organizer, and several other dignitaries and their spouses.
"How'd we score the best table in the house?" she whispered, as they made their way over to their seats.
"I give them a lot of money,” he whispered.
She arched an eyebrow. Sometimes she forgot just how wealthy Roland was. He didn't act as though he was rich, and at thirty-two years of age, most people who didn't know him completely underestimated just how successful and powerful he was. She looked up at him at his strong profile and kind, dark eyes. The scent of his aftershave struck her again, and she loved its familiarity, but this time a note of excitement accompanied it.
The meal was delicious, though drawn out. Several speakers accompanied the various courses, and then everyone present was asked to donate as a circus troupe of acrobats performed on stage. Then, finally the formal part of the evening was over, and June relaxed back in her seat with a sigh. Her stomach was full, the nerves had dissipated, the crowd had thinned, and she listened to the music with a smile tugging the corners of her mouth.
Roland had disappeared as soon as the speeches ended. Then she'd seen him doing the rounds. Talking to people, shaking hands, nodding his head. He had work to do, she understood that. Still, as couples headed to the dance floor, she watched in envy. How long had it been since she'd had a chance to dance with a man that way? Probably not since Jax's wedding. They'd had dancing there, and she'd danced with her cousin, then Jax, then Brad, Jax's best friend.
The thought occurred to her that she'd never danced with a man she loved as dancers swayed together, heads bent close. One couple held each other tight, the woman throwing her head back and laughing at something her partner said. June sighed and rested her chin in her hands as she watched.
Someone tapped her shoulder.
"Care to dance?" Roland's eyes sparkled.
She smiled and straightened in an instant. "I'd love to."
He held out a hand, and she took it, her skin tingling at his touch. As he led her out onto the dance floor, her heart fluttered in her chest. He stopped and pulled her close. She gasped softly as she landed against him, then he rested a hand on her lower back and began to move to the music.
She followed his lead, her head cocked to one side as she stared up at him. He was looking out over the crowd, a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth. She admired the curve of his cheek, the strength of his nose, and the way his red hair gleamed in the light from a single, large chandelier sparkling down on them from above.
He turned deep brown eyes toward her, and their gazes met, her breath catching in her throat.
“Still having fun?" he asked.
She nodded. "I am."
"I'm glad. I usually hate these things. But it's nice knowing I have a friend with me."
She swallowed. For a moment there she'd thought there'd been something between them. Something more than friendship. She'd seen him differently—as more than the girls’ father, her employer, and friend.
It was probably just the romance of the evening. The beautiful dresses, the dapper tuxedos, the rich food, and dancing. It had caused her to lose perspective. Roland was a successful businessman. Everyone wanted to know him, to be with him or at least near him. She'd seen that firsthand enough to know it was true. And he was kind and warm to all of them. It was how he was with her as well, but nothing more than that. She was his employee and friend. And until tonight she'd been perfectly content with that.
She shook her head, and her carefully curled locks danced around her shoulders, tickling her bare skin. No, she couldn't let herself get carried away by the moment. The moment would pass, and in the morning, she’d be sitting in his kitchen in her PJs with the girls spilling cereal and milk all over the table, and something sticky stuck to the bottom of her foot.
For now, she'd simply enjoy her Cinderella moment.
She leaned into his shoulder, resting her head against his firm chest. The song was a slow one, and they moved in time with it, perfectly in synch with each other. It was as though they were the only people in existence, and the music their personal melody.
It was then she noticed the staring. A couple of women even held up their phones to take photos of the two of them dancing. She straightened and pulled back a little. Roland arched an eyebrow at her.
"What's wrong?"
"Everyone's watching…" she said, her throat tightening.
He chuckled low, his eyes glowing with warmth. Then he pulled her closer and lowered his head until his eyes were only inches from hers. "Let them stare."
Her heart thudded, and she studied the look in his eyes. He didn't care what anyone thought, she could see that now. He was accustomed to having all the attention in the room focused on him. She wasn't. Still, he was right—she wouldn't let anyone spoil this moment. This perfect moment. She sighed, and her lids drifted shut.
She let her head fall again to his chest and tucked herself under his chin as though it were a shelter, a place to hide away from the world.
"You know, we've never done this before," he said.
She frowned. "What?"
"Been out together, just us without the kids."
She nodded slowly. "No, we haven’t."
"We should do it more often." She smiled and raised her head to look in his eyes again.
Who was this man? He wasn't the same person who sat on the couch with her eating ice cream and watching movies, or who kissed Emma's knees when she scraped them or held Caitlin tight as they slid down the largest water slide known to mankind both squealing at the top of their lungs. Was he?
This man was different. He was attractive, confident, charming… Being this close to him, held in his strong arms, her heart raced, and her breath came in shallow gulps. Who was he?
"We should," she agreed simply. "It's nice."
"Yes, it is." His eyes were dark, and his face hovered closer still to her own. "You make me feel…"
"What?" she asked.
"Like I could tackle anything," he finished.
She smiled. "You make me feel safe."
He smiled. "June…I"
"Mr. Kirk, the President of the Small Business Owners of Atlanta would like to meet with you if you have a moment." A tall man, wearing round spectacles perched on the end of a thin nose, appeared beside them, his hands clasped together in front of him.
A look of irritation flitted across Roland's features, then he smiled. "Of course. I'll be right with you."
The man shuffled off the dance floor, and Roland released his hold on June. She did her best to hide her disappointment. It was how things were whenever she was out in public with him, everyone always wanted or needed his attention. She did her best to distract the girls when it happened since they didn't like sharing him with other people.
"Sorry…" he began, his brows slanting together over deep, brown eyes.
She shook her head. "It's fine."
"We'll talk more after…"
"Yes, after." She pushed a smile onto her face and watched him stride away.
The other dancers moved in slow formation around her, and she set her hands on her hips. Then she sighed and wandered back to her seat.
Finally, Roland returned to their table. By that time, June had finished both their desserts and was working on beating her record of how many times she could get the dessert spoon to spin around in place before it stopped.
With her tongue poked out the side of her mouth, she pushed it hard, and it spun in a circle then came to a stop one rotation short of what she needed to break her record of fifteen.
"Shoot!" she exclaimed then slumped back in her chair.
"Impressive." Roland slid into the seat beside her, grinning.
Her cheeks warmed. "Hi."
He inhaled slowly. "I see you ate my cheesecake."
"You snooze you lose," she said, one eyebrow arched.
He chuckled. "Fine. But you owe me a dessert. Want to get out of here?"
"Yes. Please. Everyone else at our table left an hour ago." She didn't want to sound whiny, but she'd lost interest in the spoon game twenty minutes earlier. Her phone battery was almost dead, and she didn't want to risk it shutting off since she wanted the babysitter to be able to contact her if she needed to, so she hadn't even been able to play games or surf the internet.
"Let's go." Roland held out a hand as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and June took it.
He led her through the tables, and out of the gallery. Stars lit the sky overhead like a million candles in a dark room, and a full moon cast a yellow glow over the stairs leading down to where a bored valet stood, staring out into the distance.
They walked up behind him and he startled. Roland smiled, then pulled out his cell phone to call their driver.
June stared at the stars overhead. They seemed brighter, closer to the earth.
"Wow," she whispered.
Roland glanced her way, then looked up as well. "Beautiful," he muttered. "I always forget to look up."
"Yeah, me too. God's creation is so amazing. Looking up…it grounds me. Gives me perspective.”
He nodded. Then he stepped closer and looped an arm around her waist, studying her with his brows drawn together.
"I'm glad you came tonight."
Her heart thundered, and goose pimples prickled her skin. What was he doing?
Both his arms encircled her waist, and he drew her to him.
"I'm glad too," she replied in a breathy voice.
"There was something I wanted to say to you earlier before we were interrupted."
"Oh?"
His head lowered toward hers, his brown eyes dark in the shadow he cast. What was he thinking? She could always tell from the look in his eyes, but she couldn't see them now. It was too dark, and the moon was behind him, casting a glow like a halo around his head. Her thoughts spun, and her breath caught in her throat.
"Your friendship has meant a lot to me over the past two years."
Friendship? The way he held her didn't feel like friendship. She swallowed and wondered what to do with her hands now squished between them. It was true, for the past two years he'd been her friend. Her boss. And yet his hands were cupping her waist and pulling her close to him in a very un-friend-like way. If they kept going, it would change everything. Did she want that?
"It's meant a lot to me as well."
"But…I wonder if…" He sighed and shook his head. Then, he pressed his lips to hers in a sudden movement that took her by surprise and stole the breath from her lungs.
Slowly, she let her hands creep up his chest and around his neck. The kiss felt right. He was familiar and yet a mystery all at the same time. She stood on tiptoe and wound her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.
Her mind screamed that it was wrong, they shouldn't ruin what they had. But her heart didn't listen. He was handsome, strong, caring, kind—everything she'd longed for and never found until now. How hadn't she seen him before now? Seen the man he could be, the man he really was. She'd been blind, only seeing what she wanted to—someone safe, who she could be herself around but who never challenged her or asked more than she was ready to give. But that wasn't Roland. He was risky, scary, warm, and safe. He was so many things she'd never fully understood until that moment.
With ragged breaths, her head spun.
He took a step back, his own breathing heavy.
"What I meant to say…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that…I… "
What was he saying? Her eyes focused on his, round, heated, and full of fear.
The car pulled up beside them, and the valet opened the back door. "Here you go, Mr. Kirk."
"Thank you," replied Roland. He tipped the valet then gestured for June to go first.
She slipped into the car, her mind blank. Roland climbed in beside her and the vehicle accelerated. He glanced her way, concern etched across his face.
"June?"
Slowly she turned to face him, her throat tightening. He would take it back, she knew he would. He'd take it back and say sorry, that it should never have happened. That's what was sitting on the end of his tongue. She could see it in the look in his eyes. And if he did that, he'd break her heart into pieces. Because for her, there was no going back. Everything was different now. Everything had changed between them.
"June. Your seat belt," he said, his tone firm but kind.
She nodded, reaching for her seat belt, and fastening it with studied attention.
"Are you okay?" he asked as the car turned onto the expressway.
The engine roared as the vehicle accelerated.
"I guess."
He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. ”I’m sorry I did that back there. I wasn't thinking. I know you're my employee, and you're so much younger than me. I shouldn't have done it."
He studied her, his expression hidden by shadow.
She forced herself to smile. "It's okay. Really. I'm fine."
But she wasn't. She'd caught a glimpse of how it could be, to be with Roland Kirk. To have his whole attention, to feel his lips on hers, and his arms around her. And she couldn't ever go back to being his friend again. And if that was all he wanted, then she'd have to figure a way to get out of the mess they'd created. The last thing she needed was for another man who didn't know what he wanted from her to break her still-tender heart.
8
Roland wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel and peered out the gym door down the hall. He glanced back over his shoulder toward the swimming pool. Through the tall, glass windows the water glistened in the morning sunlight.
No sign of June. Usually, she'd be swimming laps by now, but she hadn't emerged from her room.
He couldn't stop thinking about their kiss. He hadn't intended to kiss her. In fact, he'd meant to say how much he'd enjoyed the evening and was glad she was a friend he could rely on. But then, the way she'd looked at him, her wide, blue eyes so full of compassion. And that dress! He'd never seen her wear anything like that before. It had taken every bit of restraint he had had to stay away from their table, so he didn't do something he'd regret.
Then, while they were waiting for the car, under the light of a full moon and a canopy of twinkling stars, he hadn't been able to resist the urge to kiss her. And now he'd ruined everything between them.
She'd kissed him back. But afterward, she'd barely spoken a word. And he could tell from the look on her face that he'd overstepped the invisible boundary that had always stood between them, marking the line that couldn't be crossed, shouldn't be crossed if they were to keep their relationship intact.
He was her boss. He wasn't supposed to kiss her. Was it harassment? He groaned and rubbed both hands over his face. He was a harasser. He'd never considered himself in that light before, but when he looked at it that way, he realized just how wrong he'd been. He'd done all the sexual harassment courses, he always insisted that his staff take them so, of course, he did as well. He knew how it looked—he was wealthy, her employer, older than she was. She hadn't wanted to kiss him but had gone along with it. That must’ve been what it was.
Still, despite all that, he desperately wanted to get her alone, so he could talk to her about it and find out what she was thinking. He couldn't risk the chance she might leave them.
He shuddered as he jogged up the staircase. What if she quit? Where would he be then? The girls would never forgive him if he drove June away. They loved her, she was the one they ran to if they fell and hurt themselves. She was the one they called if they were afraid of the dark. So often, he wasn't even home, so they'd learned that June would come running, she'd care for their needs.
His throat tightened as he imagined the looks on their little faces if he had to tell them June was leaving. They'd be devastated.
With a grunt, he pushed open his bedroom door and strode inside. He turned on the shower in his bathroom, then squeezed his eyes shut as the sound of water hitting the tiled floor drummed into his senses.
He'd blown it. Completely and utterly.
Maybe she'd forgive him. If he could just get a chance to see her, without Emma and Caitlin joining in on the conversation the way they always did, he could apologize again. Try to talk her around. He was good at that. Usually.
Or maybe she wasn't upset. Maybe he'd misread things, and she was just being cautious. It made sense. Neither one of them should jump into something without thinking it through. He had the girls to consider, and she'd just had her heart broken. Not to mention the fact that he was her employer. Perhaps she wasn't regretting the kiss as much as he'd thought.
