Worth The Wait

Violet didn’t move from her position near the farthest corner booth where she’d been collecting dirty dishes. She’d planned to deposit them to the washer on her way to her office.

Hogan smiled and came her way. When he reached her, he took the heavy tray from her hands.

“How are you feeling?”

“What are you doing here?”

His gaze searched hers. Then he started away, saying, “You first.”

“I’m fine.” Violet hustled along behind him. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“Liar,” he said, almost like a compliment. They were both quiet as he deposited the tray in the commercial sinks where two high school boys worked with awesome efficiency.

It wasn’t until they reached her office that Hogan said, “I’ll be working from home the rest of the week.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.” She headed to the chair behind her desk and sank down to sit.

For too long, Hogan studied her.

She fought off a sigh, a frown and a cough. “What?”

“I wanted to check on you.” As if he had every right—and maybe he did after the weekend—he put the back of his hand to her head. “You don’t feel feverish.”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’re still pooped.”

Given she had both elbows propped on her desk to keep her head from hitting the surface, lying would be pointless. “Pretty much.” She forced herself into a more upright position. “But we won’t get that busy again until dinner and I can veg here while doing—” she made a face “—paperwork.”

To her surprise, Hogan looked uncomfortable. It took her about two seconds to realize why, and with renewed energy she rushed to her file cabinet, but the files were gone, just as she’d known they would be. Slowly turning to glare, she whispered, “What did you do?”

“I brought you into the twenty-first century, for one thing.” He took a step toward her, no longer abashed but now righteous. “I streamlined your really shitty records.”

“Hogan—”

“And I started the process for some cost analysis.”

Throwing up her hands, Violet asked, “When the hell did you have time? You spent all your weekend with me!”

“Not all of it. Most, yes, but—”

God, she felt inadequate next to him. Completely, utterly inadequate. “So you...what? In the random fifteen minutes you had free you updated all my bookkeeping?”

“As I said, I haven’t completed it yet, but I’ve made enough headway to know your old accountant sucked. Good riddance to him.”

Violet was barely listening. “I’ll pay you.”

He stiffened.

“What’s your hourly salary? Let me know, and how many hours you spent on it, and I’ll—”

Looking more than a little pissed, he took long steps to reach her, caught her chin and, after scowling fiercely, kissed her.

Oh, he was definitely fired up. Maybe in a good way.

When she didn’t fight him, didn’t lurch away, he lifted his head and stared down at her. Heat lightened the color of his blue eyes and his breath had thickened.

Violet licked her lips, tasting him. But it wasn’t enough. Without really thinking through the obvious consequences, she rested her hands on his chest and leaned closer.

Hogan groaned. By slow degrees he gathered her against his body until they touched from thighs to chests. His attention drifted back and forth from her eyes to her mouth until, finally, his mouth settled on hers again.

Slower this time, more gently.

Far more devastating.

Fisting her hands in his shirt, Violet fitted herself more tightly against him. Oh, she’d known he would be trouble to her senses, but heaven help her, it was even worse than she’d expected. He turned his head, and his tongue touched along her bottom lip. She immediately opened, making her own small, desperate sound of need.

He stroked a hand down her back to her hips, hesitated, then opened his fingers over her backside, cuddling, exploring—

The knock on the door sent them both jumping apart.

Hogan stared at her, unblinking.

“Dad?”

Colt’s voice. Dear God. Violet jerked away, pretending to be busy with her file cabinet. Honestly, she didn’t know what she was doing. Shuffling something...

Behind her, she heard the door open, and then Hogan said, “What’s up?”

“Someone just dropped off a stack of the Clearbrook Trickle. What should I do with them?”

“The what?”

Violet cleared her throat. “How can you have been here so long and not know about the Trickle?”

“What is it?”

Glad to have something to focus on, but keeping her back to them anyway, she explained, “It’s the free community paper. All the various establishments in Clearbrook set them out so the locals can know about any sales, public activities, school calendars and stuff like that. Each week they herald a local citizen for one reason or another, and there’s also this newly added advice column. Very delicious stuff.”

“Advice column?” Hogan asked.

“Yeah. It’s been really fun.” She glanced back at Hogan, and with Colt standing there smiling at her in such a knowing way, she had to fight a blush. “It’s all worded in a way that you’re unsure who is who, you know? You were in it last week. Some lady wanted to know how to convince you to go shirtless.”

She watched his face blanch. Then, amazingly, hot color slashed his cheekbones. “You’re making that up.”

Feeling more herself, now that he was the uncomfortable one, Violet crossed her heart. “Swear it’s true.”

Colt laughed. “Did you keep a copy?”