I watched his lips.
Breathed in the scent of fresh, snowy forest and strong, solid man.
My brain woke with a jolt. What the hell was I thinking?
“I have to start my shift,” I mumbled, dragging my gaze off him. I had a feeling if I didn’t, I’d do something stupid like lean in and kiss the guy who paid my wages and allowed me to continue hiding.
He didn’t reply, and I didn’t dare glance back.
That afternoon, during my break, Denise came over, a curious tilt to her blonde head. “Got a minute? There’s a couple of things I need to discuss with you.”
Georges, a chef who had been super friendly, asking questions about what I was reading, jumped up from my table. He gave me a cheeky wink then made his way to the kitchens.
Denise took his seat. “We’ve got a whole bunch of Christmas parties booked for the next week. You said to give you all the hours possible, but I wanted to check these worked.”
She handed me a clipboard. I scanned the times. Lena was home all day with her daughter and had told me to do what I needed to do. Guilt squeezed my chest for the time I’d be away from Benjamin, but he loved the family and didn’t seem to be suffering.
“All good,” I replied, returning the schedule.
“Great! Next, I’ve got a contract for you to sign.”
I blinked at the bar manager. “I didn’t know you had contracts for casual workers.”
“We don’t, usually.” She pushed up from the table then placed the form down in front of me and added a pen alongside it. “Just read this through and sign on the bottom line, honey.”
I took a sip of my coffee—the café side of the bar made the most incredible lattes—and scanned the lines. “Did you sign one?”
“Sure did. Two years ago. There have been a couple of points added since then, though.” She gave me another wondering look then left me to read.
I’d never signed a contract for anything before, and they had to know I was using a fake surname, but as I got to the bottom of the page, a laugh spluttered out of my lips.
Point twelve: No fraternising between staff members.
Denise had said the contracts had just been updated. What were the chances that point applied to me alone? I rested my head back on my chair and gazed down the bar. It had to be, which meant only one thing.
Bull wanted me like I wanted him.
Question was, what was his reason for stopping?
7
Tension
Bull
The office door shook under someone’s thumping fist. Autumn swung it open before I had a chance to speak.
“What’s this?” She marched over, brandished the contract I’d asked Denise to have all the staff sign.
I stood from my chair, towering over the lass.
“I told you I wasn’t staying,” she snipped, leaning back to peer at me better. “What’s the point in giving this to me now?”
“Just sign it. What difference does it make?”
“Point twelve makes a difference.”
Shite. The fraternisation policy I’d made up when I’d realised I wanted to kiss her.
“You have a problem with keeping professional on my premises?” I barked, annoyed that she’d called me on it.
“I do. What if I want to fraternise with someone?”
“Who?” What the hell was I saying?
Autumn paused, her pretty mouth open. Then she folded her arms, pushing up her ample chest. “Georges asked me out for a drink.”
My weekend chef? The bastard. “Did he now?”
Slowly, she inclined her head, pink flushing her cheeks.
“What did ye tell him?”
“I didn’t. I got this policy handed to me and I came in here. Tear it up, and I’ll have an answer for him.”
Fuck. That.
I stepped around my desk and into her space, no sense in my head. Then I did the stupidest thing of all. “Don’t date Georges,” I ordered. “I don’t want to have to fire him.”
“Why would you do a thing like that?” Autumn’s blue eyes narrowed.
I didn’t answer. She didn’t move.
“Let’s try this another way. What other options have I got?” she demanded.
I kept my damn mouth shut.
Ah, fuck. My blood heated. Her face was inches from mine, and that scent of hers, the floral, fruity whateverthefuck was driving me mad.
We glared at one another.
I breathed through my nose, filling my lungs with her. In all my thirty-two years on the planet, I’d never wanted to kiss a lass as much as I did now.
As if she knew my thoughts, Autumn’s gaze dropped to my lips.
Tension drew out, heavy and palpable.
“We’re going to need a supply run before tomorrow night’s party.” Denise bustled in. She snatched the cellar keys from the hook, her back to us. “I’ve written you a list for the bar. You’ll need to check the kitchen stores.”
She spun around, keys jangling.
Autumn and I had jumped apart. We couldn’t have looked more suspicious if we’d tried, despite the fact not a fucking thing had happened.
Denise swung a gaze between us. Then she barked a laugh, startling in the awkward silence.
“I’m… Work. I have to…” Autumn pointed at the door then made a swift exit.
I groaned and closed my eyes, gripping the desk behind me.
“Ooh hoo!”
I cracked an eyelid to find Denise almost vibrating with excitement.
“I knew that contract was about her. Did you kiss her?”
“Shut up,” I muttered and rounded my desk, throwing myself down in my chair. It groaned under my weight. “For the record, no, I didn’t. I’m glad ye came in. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Oh, Bull.” Denise’s voice overflowed with sympathy. “It’s about time you moved on.”
“There’s nothing to move on from.” I jiggled the mouse to wake the computer. The screen blinked into life, but I couldn’t focus on the figures I’d been updating. I heaved a sigh. “Besides, what do you know about her?”
“What do you need to know?”
I had no idea. “She’ll leave soon.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, not having a penis and all, but what’s wrong with having a casual fling? It’ll do you good. If she’s going soon, then there’s no issue.”
I wasn’t having this conversation. Not with my long-married meddling supervisor. Not at all. I couldn’t date a single mother, and I couldn’t screw around either. That was worse, if anything. But the draw I had toward that lass…
“Leave me the list,” I grumped. “Close the door on your way out.”
Her cackle sounded all the way down the hall.
8
Fall on Your Face
Autumn
I’d blown my nice job at the bar—the realisation hit me when I arrived for my shift the next morning. All of yesterday evening, after the non-kiss, Bull had worked at my side, perfectly civil but otherwise ignoring me. Not that the heat between us had diminished any. Every time I brushed past him, I shivered, and he held himself more rigid than the stone walls of the inn. But the bar had been packed, and our only conversion was when he checked if I’d eaten. By the time Hannah, one of the waiters, offered me a ride home, Bull had vanished.