boss, I’m really disappointed to lose you. But as your friend, I’m not leaving until—”
“ Your friend?” She stared at the ceiling for a painful moment. When she looked at him, fresh tears glistened.
Oh, damn . She wasn’t simply upset; she was upset with him. Was she quitting because of something he’d said or done?
“ Emmy, tell me what I did to make you cry,” he murmured. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it intentionally. I assumed we were friends, but if you don’t want to be—”
Brandon clammed up, refusing to finish that sentence. It bugged him that she wouldn’t think they were at least friends. No, the thought actually hurt.
Of course Em had worked for him, but they’d shared more than a job—at least he’d thought so. Brandon had held her hand at her mother’s funeral. She’d nursed him back from that terrible flu last fall. She’d prepared a delicious Thanksgiving dinner for his half-sister Morgan and her husband, Jack, keeping the conversation rolling so that there’d been no awkward moments—a big plus since Brandon had once taken Jack’s former wife to bed.
The same woman who had abruptly visited his office last Friday afternoon.
Shit . Did this have something to do with Kayla? Was Em…jealous? Brandon didn’t hate that idea. No denying that Em was lovely. Her sweet face and blazing head for business were attraction enough. But she also had lush tits and a gorgeous ass with a tiny waist in between. How could he not notice her?
During their introduction, he’d put her in the “doable” category. Then the HR rep had informed him that Em was his secretary. After that, Brandon had done his best to put all sexual thoughts of her on lockdown and be strictly her boss. After all, Houstonians had elected him to do a job, not chase a skirt. The first few weeks of ignoring Emmy as a woman had been tough. Since then, they’d been so busy, and she’d been thoroughly professional. Once he’d gotten used to her as a co-worker, he’d stopped thinking about her as a woman.
Until now.
“ I don’t want to be friends, Brandon.” Em braced her hands against his chest and gave him a little push. “Go, please.”
Her touch flared sparks through him. Arousal charged his veins, seared his skin. Blood gushed south in a torrent. His dick got hard and strained against his zipper in record time.
Suddenly, he was rethinking the whole “friends” thing, too.
“ I’m not leaving.” Brandon kicked the door closed behind him, nudging her farther into her snug but homey apartment, backing her against the foyer wall.
He’d be damned if he simply gave up on her without a good reason.
Then her musky-floral scent teased his nose. Fuck, she even smelled good. His dick swelled more.
Eyes wide, she thrust her hands on the flare of her hips. “Well, come on in.”
He ignored her sarcasm. “Why don’t you want to be friends?”
At his question, she tried to edge away from him. No fucking way. Brandon planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in, and leaned closer.
Em sighed in frustration. “Ease up. I need a tissue.”
He reached over her and grabbed the little box off the bar, not giving her an inch of breathing room. He probably should, at least while she dabbed her face. But he wasn’t letting her go until he had the answer to his question.
“ Does your resignation have anything to do with Kayla’s visit?”
Em got that deer-in-the-headlights look and drew in a sharp breath. Bingo! Why would Kayla’s visit matter? It shouldn’t…unless Em had feelings for him. Unless she wanted him. It took him barely half a second to realize that he really didn’t hate that idea.
“ Go, Brandon. Please.”
They had to talk about this. Even if Em left her job, he didn’t want matters unresolved between them. He wouldn’t leave her hurting. But Em had been tight-lipped so far about answering his questions. If she had feelings for him, she wasn’t going to
“ Your friend?” She stared at the ceiling for a painful moment. When she looked at him, fresh tears glistened.
Oh, damn . She wasn’t simply upset; she was upset with him. Was she quitting because of something he’d said or done?
“ Emmy, tell me what I did to make you cry,” he murmured. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it intentionally. I assumed we were friends, but if you don’t want to be—”
Brandon clammed up, refusing to finish that sentence. It bugged him that she wouldn’t think they were at least friends. No, the thought actually hurt.
Of course Em had worked for him, but they’d shared more than a job—at least he’d thought so. Brandon had held her hand at her mother’s funeral. She’d nursed him back from that terrible flu last fall. She’d prepared a delicious Thanksgiving dinner for his half-sister Morgan and her husband, Jack, keeping the conversation rolling so that there’d been no awkward moments—a big plus since Brandon had once taken Jack’s former wife to bed.
The same woman who had abruptly visited his office last Friday afternoon.
Shit . Did this have something to do with Kayla? Was Em…jealous? Brandon didn’t hate that idea. No denying that Em was lovely. Her sweet face and blazing head for business were attraction enough. But she also had lush tits and a gorgeous ass with a tiny waist in between. How could he not notice her?
During their introduction, he’d put her in the “doable” category. Then the HR rep had informed him that Em was his secretary. After that, Brandon had done his best to put all sexual thoughts of her on lockdown and be strictly her boss. After all, Houstonians had elected him to do a job, not chase a skirt. The first few weeks of ignoring Emmy as a woman had been tough. Since then, they’d been so busy, and she’d been thoroughly professional. Once he’d gotten used to her as a co-worker, he’d stopped thinking about her as a woman.
Until now.
“ I don’t want to be friends, Brandon.” Em braced her hands against his chest and gave him a little push. “Go, please.”
Her touch flared sparks through him. Arousal charged his veins, seared his skin. Blood gushed south in a torrent. His dick got hard and strained against his zipper in record time.
Suddenly, he was rethinking the whole “friends” thing, too.
“ I’m not leaving.” Brandon kicked the door closed behind him, nudging her farther into her snug but homey apartment, backing her against the foyer wall.
He’d be damned if he simply gave up on her without a good reason.
Then her musky-floral scent teased his nose. Fuck, she even smelled good. His dick swelled more.
Eyes wide, she thrust her hands on the flare of her hips. “Well, come on in.”
He ignored her sarcasm. “Why don’t you want to be friends?”
At his question, she tried to edge away from him. No fucking way. Brandon planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in, and leaned closer.
Em sighed in frustration. “Ease up. I need a tissue.”
He reached over her and grabbed the little box off the bar, not giving her an inch of breathing room. He probably should, at least while she dabbed her face. But he wasn’t letting her go until he had the answer to his question.
“ Does your resignation have anything to do with Kayla’s visit?”
Em got that deer-in-the-headlights look and drew in a sharp breath. Bingo! Why would Kayla’s visit matter? It shouldn’t…unless Em had feelings for him. Unless she wanted him. It took him barely half a second to realize that he really didn’t hate that idea.
“ Go, Brandon. Please.”
They had to talk about this. Even if Em left her job, he didn’t want matters unresolved between them. He wouldn’t leave her hurting. But Em had been tight-lipped so far about answering his questions. If she had feelings for him, she wasn’t going to
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