In Love With Her Boss. Christie Ridgway
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the seat on the other side of the booth.
Lori’s tongue remained knotted, so it was lucky, too, that it took some minutes to order their lunch—Josh told her the only substantial food offered was grilled cheese sandwiches—and get the Hip Hop details out of the way. By the time her plate was in front of her, Lori had relaxed a little.
When the men started talking about the arson investigation, Melissa grinned at her. “Would you be horribly offended if I snitched a french fry?” she asked.
“Oh. Oh, no.” Lori flushed and pushed the plate toward the center of the table. “I should have offered. Forgive me.”
“Done.” Melissa bit into the french fry with relish. “It’s the only thing they make nearly as good as the Hip Hop.”
Lori took up her own fry, but her stomach was too nervous to eat. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to your restaurant.”
Melissa shook her head. “Don’t get me started. Half the time I want to cry and the other half I want to strangle whoever did such a destructive thing.”
“They haven’t caught who did it?”
“No.” Melissa sighed, but then took another french fry and turned her attention to Lori. “So tell me about you.”
“I…” This wasn’t the time or place to blurt out the truth. Lori licked her lips. “I’m new to Whitehorn. As Josh said earlier, I’m his temporary receptionist.”
“He’s a good man,” Melissa said, then her gaze sharpened. “But you know that, right?”
Lori bit into her french fry so she could nod instead of talking.
“Still, it can’t be easy to settle someplace new,” Melissa went on. “Did you have a special reason for coming to Whitehorn?”
Lori swallowed. “I wanted to set down some roots.”
Melissa nodded, as if she understood. “I grew up in Whitehorn, and then my mother and I moved when I was a senior in high school. I spent the next few years mooning over Wyatt and doing what I had to come back.” She cocked her head. “But it was coming home for me. How did you even hear about Whitehorn?”
“My mother told me about it. She was from Whitehorn.”
One of Melissa’s dark eyebrows rose. “From here? Who is she?”
Lori didn’t think her mother’s name would mean anything to Melissa. Her mother had said that Charlie Avery, Lori and Melissa’s father, had been a philanderer, and that her parents had moved the family out of state as soon as she’d discovered she was pregnant. “Jill Hanson. The daughter of Roy and Jane Hanson. But they’re all gone now.”
“Oh.” Melissa’s face softened “I’m sorry. That must be lonely sometimes.” She reached out and covered Lori’s hand with her own.
Lori froze. Women didn’t send her into a panic, but she hadn’t felt comfortable with anyone’s touch in a long while. Because of the kind of marriage she’d had and the way she’d been on the move after it, she hadn’t had the opportunity to develop any kind of relationship that involved touching, not even something as casual but as considerate as this.
She stared at their joined hands, at the similar skin tone, at Melissa’s slender fingers that reminded her so much of her own. Tears burned the corners of her eyes.
“Lori?” Josh softly called her name.
Blinking, she turned her head toward his. Her breath caught. There was concern on his rugged, handsome face. Kindness.
Then something more. As she looked up at him, with her half sister Melissa’s hand still covering hers, Lori felt her heart open up, and she saw Josh watch it happen.
Warmth, trust, promise. Like petals, the feelings tentatively unfurled in her chest, a blossom taking its chance on a winter sun.
At one end of the weight room, Josh leaned against a Nautilus machine and pretended he was merely resting between sets instead of what he was really doing—resting between sets while watching Lori work out. It was a kickboxing class today, in the adjacent aerobics area. The class was unusually small, probably because it was New Year’s Eve and most people had headed home early this Saturday afternoon to prepare for their evening celebrations.
But Billy Blanks and his Tae-Bo enthusiasts would be proud. Even without the communal energy of a full class, Lori’s sidekicks punched outward with determined force.
Her jaw looked clenched in concentration. The tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail hung in damp question marks against her cheeks. In a baggy pair of sweatpants cut off at the knees and an oversized T-shirt, she should have looked tough. Competent.
She did. But why she worked so hard on that strength clawed at him.
Her terrified reaction when he’d stopped her from falling a few mornings ago, added to her self-defense attack when he’d bumped into her on the running track the first day they’d met could equal only one thing. A man had hurt her. Not just emotionally, but physically too.
The certainty made him sick. And relieved, though that sounded more warped than it should. He wasn’t happy about whatever experiences she’d endured, of course, but he was glad to finally understand her skittishness. He was damn glad to know so that he could quit adding to her disquiet with his attempts at flirtation.
None of this changed her appeal for him, though. God, no. Now she was more than beautiful. In every bead of sweat, in every kick, in every lap, he read Lori’s determination never to be a victim again. He admired that.
But overlying his regard for her tenacious guts and her uncommon gorgeousness was something that sent him running. Tenderness. Protectiveness.
He didn’t want to feel that way.
So he reminded himself that she needed healing, not him. She wasn’t in the market for a fling any more than he was. Neither one of them was in any emotional place to want anything more.
As Josh watched, Lori changed direction, back-kicking for all she was worth. If only he could kick off his raging guard-dog complex as easily. Such an ability would come in handy right this minute, Josh thought, as he spied Wily Rick Weber sauntering through the weight room, his gaze glued on Lori.
Josh suppressed a feral growl, instead smiling at the other man as he intercepted Rick’s straight path toward the aerobics room. “Hey there, Rick.”
It took Wily a moment to switch his focus to Josh. “Anderson,” he said absently, already moving forward to brush by him. Then Wily paused, the expression on his face reflecting his crafty nickname. “Wait a minute,” he said softly. “She works for you, doesn’t she?”
Josh folded his arms across his chest and looked down at the smaller man. “Who?”
Wily’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, right. As if you don’t know who I mean. Her name’s Lori, correct?”
No one ever said Wily was dumb, just trouble. “Mmm,” Josh answered, shrugging.
Wily’s eyes squeezed to suspicious slits. “Don’t try scaring me off, Josh. There’s no reason I shouldn’t ask her out. It’s not like you have a claim.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” The hair on the back of Josh’s neck bristled.
Wily gave him a smarmy guy-to-guy smile. “Word is you’re more monk than man, Anderson. Can’t see you trying to melt the ice queen over there as your first foray into romance after all these years.” His smile widened. “Leave the hard ones to me, big guy.”
Smarmy, wily, stinkin’ Rick Weber had just insulted him. Lifted Josh’s ego and dumped it on its head.