“Your programmers are wizards.” Todd nodded slowly, in total awe.
Josie noticed he said
your
, as in Kyle was now part of Castle’s team, no longer a proprietary piece of SMG.
“It was all in your detailed description,” Kyle said, playing along with the mutual admiration society. “Feel like doing a testimonial for us?”
“Fu—” Todd again cut himself off. Josie felt like telling him she’d heard the word
fuck
before, but she liked his politeness, too. “Hell, yes,” he finished.
Work life was good. Except for the way her hair smooshed from the hard hat she’d worn during the inspection. Everything from the dryer to the load-out to the ticketing system worked like a perfect little fantasy.
“Ready to sign off, Todd?” Josie held out the clipboard with the final paperwork. Why did it feel so good, above and beyond any of her previous jobs?
“For sure.” He took both pen and clipboard.
Josie fluffed at her hair and wiped the sand dust from her eyebrows. It had been windy, and she could taste the grit on her lips. But, as Todd signed with a flourish, she considered once again that life was good. The job had settled down, her new employees were working out, no more ass pinching, and she hadn’t caught Lydia in another lie. She missed Ernie, but she’d said her good-byes at the memorial, and it was good to know he wasn’t in pain anymore. Even she and Kyle were doing fine work-wise.
She chanced a glance at him. Dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, he had the same smooshed hair that she did and grit in his dark eyebrows. They worked well together, were polite, diplomatic. He was on her side, listened to her ideas, backed her up, praised her when she deserved it. He even let her cry the day she’d needed to. Just as Ernie had let Lydia cry. What more could a manager ask from a boss? Not a damn thing.
The problem was that she wanted to ask a helluva lot more from Kyle the man, not Kyle Perry, her boss.
Todd handed back the clipboard. “I’d invite you guys out to lunch, but we’ve got a new customer coming in for a tour this afternoon.” He glanced at his watch. “Hell, make that in half an hour.”
Josie stuck out her hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Todd. If any issues arise, don’t hesitate to call me. Just because you signed off doesn’t mean we’re dumping you.”
“Thanks.” Then Todd clapped Kyle on the back. “And you, bud, you’re looking great. The job’s obviously agreeing with you. Good luck. Don’t be a stranger if you’re over this way.”
“Sure.” They shook hands, then Todd herded them out to Kyle’s car parked at the back of the weigh master’s office.
It was the end of October but as hot as August. She could hardly wait for the air conditioning. Climbing in beside him, her skirt rode up to reveal the lace-up, knee-high, steel-toes Kyle loved. On the way, he hadn’t even noticed them. That part of their relationship was done, over.
Except that she couldn’t wipe out the feel of his arms around her. When she thought of Ernie dying, she remembered Kyle holding her as she cried, the two memories inseparable, tactile. It had been horrifying, excruciating, exhilarating, frightening. She’d completely lost it. Kyle was the one who had to tell everyone about Ernie, cramming the entire FI&T group into the conference room.
At Ernie’s memorial, it felt as if half of Castle attended. Connor, Faith, Jarvis, VPs, right on down the ranks. Castle was a family, they’d lost one of their own, and the loss hit the company right in the heart.
“The meeting went well,” she said, because it hurt to think about Ernie, about Kyle, about what might have been but wasn’t because . . . she’d wanted the job more than a relationship.
“You did a great job.” Kyle headed out to the mountain road instead of the freeway.
Just like the first time. When he’d pulled out a vibrator and made her masturbate for him. “Thanks.”
They were silent until the downhill side coming into Los Gatos.
“There’s a folder on the backseat,” he said, giving her a start. “Read it.”
Sure enough, a blue folder lay there, one she hadn’t noticed on the way. Reaching behind his seat, she scented him like the bitch in heat that she was. After Ernie, she’d started to realize how much she missed Kyle in her life. Prior to that, her
life
had been all work, but seeing Ernie’s daughters and wife, she’d started to see that there was life beyond Castle, beyond a twelve-hour workday. Late at night, she missed something she’d never even had, rolling over in bed to touch Kyle, to savor his smell, his skin, falling asleep in his arms, waking up to his warmth. All night long. In her bed or his.
She didn’t even feel the sigh until it rolled out of her.
“Open it,” he said.
The folder sat on her lap. “Okay.” Inside, letterhead from a company out in Tracy. She recognized it as a glass bottle manufacturer, a customer of SMG.
Her stomach plunged all the way to her steel-toes. It was an offer letter. VP of Manufacturing. Beneath that were two more offer letters, a firm over in the East Bay, another in the South Bay, Willow Glen.
A full-body flush rode through her, and she felt herself falling as if she were dropping off the top tier of the sand plant, bouncing from level to level until she hit the rocky bottom. Shifting in her seat, she stared at his profile a moment, taking him in. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes. But I haven’t decided which job to take.”
Had her change in feelings been so obvious that he needed to physically distance himself from her? “Wow.” She went for innocuous rather than show her true horror. “Three offers in this economy. That’s incredible.” It was sickening.
“I was motivated.”
Good God. That bad. She’d never have another chance. She’d be stuck with her vibrator for the rest of her life. Worse, she’d have to go back to her fuck buddies, not that she’d heard from either Paul or Rick lately. Not that she
wanted
to hear from them. There was only Kyle.
“It’ll be a long commute from the city,” she said, amazed at how benign her voice sounded.
“I put the San Francisco house on the market. I’m looking in Los Gatos.”
Where she lived. He’d be so close, and yet so far. The cliché made her want to laugh hysterically. “Connor will be sorry to lose you, I’m sure.”
“I feel shitty about that, but I had to make a choice.” He didn’t look at her as they rolled down the hill into town. He hadn’t looked at her since he’d told her to open the file.
Until now. “Kisa,” he said, and she winced at Little Miss Fucking Snowflake’s name on his lips, “would have sucked the hell out of my cock that night.” He turned back to the road as they approached the first stoplight. “I told her no.”
“Oh.” She felt jittery, as if she were coming down off some drug high. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t want her. I never wanted her. I wanted only you, and I was pissed as hell that you gave me to her.”
The light changed; someone honked when he didn’t move. He took off slowly, his gaze shifting from the road to her, back again.
He shrugged. “I didn’t want you to know that no other woman attracted me, so I lied and told you she turned me down.”
“No other man attracts me,” she whispered, her heart climbing into her throat and almost cutting her off.
“We’ve both got control issues.” He took the cloverleaf for the freeway. They’d be back at work shortly, off the next exit. “My ego was less important than my need to hide that I was hooked on you even then. Badly.”
“Then why are you quitting?” Running away from her?
He shook his head. “I thought you’d see right away.”
“I’m not so smart.”
He laughed softly. “You’re right. Sometimes you miss the subtle nuances.” He turned to give her a pointed look. “Here’s how it is. You won’t have a relationship with me if I’m your boss or your client. So now I won’t be either of those things. I’ll just be some random guy working at another company.”
They pulled into Castle’s parking lot. “So I figure,” he said, twirling the wheel into one of the few parking spots left this late after the lunch hour was over, “I’ll take the job in Willow Glen.”
“But that was the lowest offer.”
“It’s the closest to you.”
She closed her eyes, felt his words wash over her, his warmth fill her. He stole her breath, her ability to speak, even to contemplate how much that one sentence could mean.
“You are more important than any job,” he murmured.
He’d given her everything, risked everything, made all the changes, all the sacrifices. He’d sold his house, found another job, altered every facet of his life. For her. Because she was special to him. He didn’t need to say it, didn’t have to declare undying love. What he’d done for her was . . . everything.
She hadn’t done a damn thing in return, hadn’t taken one single risk.
The sun beat through the windshield. With the engine off and the air no longer blowing across Kyle’s face, a bead of sweat dotted his forehead. But Josie didn’t have him completely pussy-whipped. “No more games,” he told her. “Your bed or my bed, and there has to be a whole night involved.”
She gazed at him for long silent moments, her eyes that jungle green he loved. “That’s not giving you enough,” she finally whispered. “Nowhere near enough.”
“I don’t need anything else.”
“Oh yes, you do.” She grabbed the door handle. “There’s something I have to do.” Then she was out and jogging across the parking lot.
Damn. He’d just bared his soul, and she had something better to do. He gathered his briefcase from the backseat, shoved the folder she’d dumped into the side pocket. He’d planned the coup for damn near a month, interviewed his ass off in non-work hours, gotten a Realtor, scheduled a whitewash of the house, and actually done his job as well. He felt like shit dumping on Connor Kingston this way, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed Josie. He’d do whatever was necessary to have her. The Willow Glen job would have to do; he was sick of driving.
Pocketing his car keys, he followed her inside, catching sight of her as she disappeared down the hall toward the executive offices. He climbed the stairs more slowly.
Whatever that cryptic comment meant, he wouldn’t let her get away with it. She was his. Tonight, she’d sleep in his bed. Or he in hers.
He turned into the hallway to find her standing halfway down it. “Well,” she huffed, “come on, what’s taking you so long?”
Her skirt still swung about her calves from her fast jaunt up the stairs, those hot and sexy lace-ups getting him going. He’d been hard-pressed not to jump her in the car on the way over to the sand plant for the sign-off.
She crooked her finger at him.
What the hell.
Kyle followed.
He caught up with her at Connor’s open office door. The man himself was seated at his desk, alone, miraculous in the mid-afternoon.
So, she was putting him to the test, forcing him to turn in his resignation. She didn’t believe he’d do it anyway. Why couldn’t she believe in him?
“Connor,” she said, “I have to talk to you.”
Connor turned his head slightly, gave her a suspicious look, then glanced at Kyle. Kyle simply shrugged an I-don’t-know-what-the-hell-she’s-doing answer.
“I looked through the employee handbook, and there isn’t a thing in there that says you can’t date your boss.”
His heart jumped clear into his throat. She wasn’t . . .
“So,” she went on, hands on her hip, “I want to be completely aboveboard about this. Kyle and I are going to start dating.”
Oh yes, she was. He wanted to shout. He wanted to pick her up and twirl her around the room.
Connor didn’t even turn a hair at her declaration. “True, there’s nothing specific in the employee handbook about not dating your boss. But you do realize people will be putting the two of you under a microscope looking for evidence of favoritism.”
She shrugged. “They already say that now because my parents are on the board. It’s nothing new. But I know”—she stabbed her chest—“and you know”—she pointed at Connor—“that I do a great job.” She glanced back at Kyle, one eyebrow raised, a slight smile curving her lips. “Right?”
Christ. There was a whole hour before the business day ended and pleasure began. “Right.” He patted his briefcase. “I’ve got the sign-off from SMG to prove what a great job you do.”
“Good.” She tipped her head at Connor. “Okay, that’s all. Just wanted to get it out in the open, and now we’ve got tons of work to do before the day is over.”
She turned on her steel-toes and marched for the door.
“Wait just one minute, young lady.” Connor rapped his desk.
Josie’s back tensed, and Kyle knew all the hairs on the back of her neck were rising. She
hated
those kind of terms. But she turned. “Yes, sir?”
“I was going to mention this to Kyle, but now seems as good a time as any. Swanson’s going to be retiring next year.” Swanson was VP of Operations. “And we’ve got our eye on Nichols to take his place, which means the Director of Materials position will need filling. Since you know materials inside and out, I think you’ll be a perfect director when the time comes.” He glanced at Kyle. “As long as your current boss is willing to let you go”—he turned back to Josie—“I’d like to move you into the purchasing manager position with the expectation of taking the director spot when Swanson retires.”
She gaped. “But I’ve only been a manager for two months.”
Connor nodded agreement. “True. But you’ve been through the fire, handled it well. With a little grooming over the next year, you’ll be more than ready for the job.” She’d be responsible for Shipping and Receiving, Warehouse, Purchasing, and Production Planning.
Josie opened her mouth, closed it, looked at Kyle, and he could have sworn her eyes glazed with a tear or two. She’d searched for years for a man who believed in her, and right here in this office, she had two. Not to mention Ernie looking down from above.