Finally! (now published, so sample only)

Chapter 8 - Swimming lessons are overrated

I made it back to Nate's place that afternoon feeling a bit dazed. Peter had spent the rest of the day outlining the basics of my new job. I saw so many pieces of paper with apparently important information on them that they all became a blur to me. There were numerous coloured folders that all had different meanings, but I just couldn't remember them all!

He took both Adele and I on a tour of both the factory and the office. The factory had been interesting to say the least. I almost came to blows with a most arrogant arse of a man. He was even worse than Stanford, which was certainly saying something. Still, it had kept Peter amused for the rest of the day.

Now as I flopped back onto Nate's couch, I pondered the wisdom of my decisions. I stopped my mental complaints almost instantly, when Nate kneeled in front of me. He tugged my heels off, and I wiggled my toes with relief.

"Please tell me that I can wear sneakers to my new job, oh boss man." I moaned as Nate rubbed a hand along my ankle.

"Yes, unless you're on the factory floor. You then need to wear the boots Pete organised for you today. They are proper steel caps so they'll protect your feet if anything untoward happens," he advised in a rather boss type mode. He peered at me oddly, and I felt that something wasn't right with him.

"What is it?"

"You don't regret coming to work for me, do you?" He asked seriously, seeming quite gruff. I sat up instantly, slid off the couch, and pulled him in for a hug.

"No, I appreciate it so damn much. Thank you Nate, you've given me everything. I'm not sure if I can be as good as Pete, but I sure will try," I promised him as I squeezed him a little tighter. "Still, I can't believe you want to pay me for something that I normally do for free." I sent him a cheeky grin.

"So it all seems good?"

"Except for that loser in your factory. Did you really employ that guy?" I gave him a stern look.

"What loser? Are you talking about Fenwick?" Nate let out a long-winded sigh.

"He should be called Fuckwit," I told him firmly, and Nate grimaced.

"He's on his last warning. He's a good carpenter with a big mouth and even bigger attitude," he explained, and I nodded. "What did he say?"

"It wasn't a big deal." I tried to wave away my near fistfight.

"I can ask Pete, you know." Nate sent me his most concerned face, and I caved in. He always managed to do that to me!

"He might have insinuated that a woman's place is in the kitchen, and that I should get back there." I told him the smallest amount of information and prayed that he wouldn't ask Peter about it.

"He's getting very close to having his annoying arse fired," Nate grumbled and I decided it was time to get off this topic.

"So, are you going to attend the farewell drinks for Peter next week?" I asked, as I fully stretched out on the couch. Nate slouched next to me as he loosened his tie.

I have no idea why, but watching him tug at that tie sent a weird intense shiver through me. I reached over and helped him pull his tie off. His eyes went that molten golden brown and he gulped.

I slowly slid the tie from around his neck and undid the top button of his shirt. My fingers itched to keep going until every button was undone but I stopped.

One of his big hands had moved to my waist with my movements, before he stopped aw well. A delicious tension filled the air and I wanted...so many things that I knew I couldn't have.