Emily awoke to a steady thump-thump beneath her ear. Though sounding vaguely familiar, she was too comfortable to contemplate what made the rhythm. Delicious warmth cradled her snugly and she felt loathe to move. Until Emily tried to turn her head and received a stiff neck for her trouble. Where was she?...The night before came flooding back, and Emily realized what exactly rest beneath her head. Or rather; whom. Inching upwards, Emily raised her head, and then flopped back onto Shane McNeal’s chest. Groaning inwardly, mentally kicking herself around the block for putting herself in this predicament, the widow jumped as the raspy rumble of his voice halted all mental chastisement.
“I guess you did sleep with the boss. Literally,” drawled Shane McNeal’s scratchy voice, vibrating beneath her ear. Emily swiftly rose above him, jaw dropping. But before she could reply, another voice intruded; a decidedly less sexy voice.
“Mom? Mr. McNeal? What are you doing down here on the couch? We have to get ready for school or we’ll all be late!” The voice belonged to ten-year-old Dana, standing behind the couch staring at the two sleepy adults. Emily shot a murderous look at Shane, innocence personified as he lay on his back watching Emily clamber off him. The look she shot him said she would deal with his earlier comment later as she hustled to make up for lost time. Stacking his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling, Shane mused over the fact he had slept with his housekeeper and couldn’t be happier.
Shane listened to the commotion going on around him in the house, sitting up as the troops descended for imminent departure. Furrowing his brow while watching Emily gather her purse and shout for one of the missing kids, Shane asked, “What car do you drive?”
Emily cast a harried glance at Shane.
“My station wagon out front. Why?”
The author unfolded himself from the couch and ambled over to the front door, looking out.
“That antique? Hell, I thought that was my neighbor’s housekeeper’s car. My housekeeper can’t be seen driving that!” He headed to the hall closet, opened it, and snagged a set of keys off a hook, tossing them to Emily, who caught them in midair without thinking. “Take the Range Rover. It needs to be driven more anyway.”
Emily stared down at the keys, then back at Shane. “I-I have to have the car seats for the twins.”
“Fine. We’ll change them over when you get back. You really fit everyone in that heap?” Shane’s eyes twinkled myopically without his glasses, and Emily couldn’t help but smile back.
“Yes, for quite a few years, actually.”
“That’s obvious. When was that car new, anyway? During the Carter Administration?”
Emily couldn’t help it. A giggle burbled out of her mouth, and she turned away quickly, embarrassed at her reaction. Covering herself by hollering once more for her kids, who said good-bye to Shane, they all tramped out. Shane bee-lined for the stairs, intent on using his quiet time to good advantage.
***
When Emily returned to the house, using the elevator to the main floor, she smelled coffee brewing. After being out in the mist the warm house and homey smell had her sniffing deep with eyes closed. Once inside the family room she spied Shane standing at the closed French doors, coffee cup in hand, staring out at the calm, gray ocean. He half-turned as she entered.
“Get some coffee, and then let’s transfer those seats for you,” the novelist said, turning back to the view. Emily paused a moment, studying his back. The memory of waking up in his arms bombarded her, causing tingles throughout her body. It had been almost two years since she’d laid with a man, and oh, it had felt so good! His harder body against her soft curves, the way she’d fit against him, even his manly smell aroused senses she thought had died with Darrell.
Covertly studying her boss, Emily realized he was the opposite of her late husband. Where Darrell had been tall and bulky, Shane McNeal was slim and of average height; long-haired to Darrell’s short, irreverent where her dead husband had been earnest to a fault. Of course, she and her husband had grown up together, while this man was a relative stranger to Emily. But, oh, if she’d admit it to herself, she wanted to get to know Shane McNeal a lot better, and that frightened Emily. Could she really be ready to move on with her life?
Rousing herself from this introspection, Emily hurriedly poured a cup of coffee and paused, narrowing her eyes on her boss.
“Why are you down here anyway, Mr. McNeal? You’re usually locked up in your room by now.”
Shane turned around, but wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You need help with the seats, and—“
“You have writer’s block, don’t you?” Emily correctly surmised, moving towards him, cup in hand. He had the grace to look sheepish, even as he led the way down the stairs to the garage level.
“Maybe a little. But I’ll work through it. I always do. Now, let’s get your family switched over to a twenty-first century driving machine, instead of that dinosaur you own.”
“That dinosaur has served me loyally for many years, I’ll have you know,” Emily retorted, following him downstairs.
“Yeah, well, it’s just refusing to admit it’s extinct.”
Shane hit the automatic garage door button, allowing daylight into his three-car garage. The Range Rover sat in the middle of the space, commanding attention, although the Harley on one side and black convertible Jaguar XK on the other vied for attention as well. Emily paused, admiring the rolling stock housed before her, then headed for her Ford Taurus wagon. Shane paused in his advance to admire her rear end; following Emily out to her car in order to retrieve the car seats back to the Land Rover and secure them in the rear seat.
After only a few minutes Shane threw up his hands, swearing.
“How are you supposed to attach these damn things? You have to be an octopus to fasten them down!” Emily’s laugh didn’t help, so Shane pulled out of the back seat of the Rover and glared at the offending car seat.
Emily studied her boss with laughing eyes, noticing the dark hair swinging free, half obscuring that arresting face with high cheekbones. And those hands fisted on his hips—long-fingered and slim; she bet he knew how to use them, too! Flustered by these thoughts, Emily overly concentrated on fixing the restraints. Once finished with hers, she elbowed Shane aside and double-checked his work.
“Good enough?” Shane asked, eyes shifting to watch his neighbor the doctor drive by, then returning his gaze to his housekeeper.
“Yes.—“
“Good. Then let’s go get donuts. After all, since we’ve spent the night together, I owe you breakfast the morning after.” Shane grinned shamelessly at Emily, who felt her face flush as she realized her boss was hitting on her and she didn’t really mind. Seeing he’d rattled his housekeeper’s poise, Shane continued.
“I don’t think I’ve met anyone lately who blushes. It’s attractive.” Invading her personal space a step or two, he was rewarded with her cautious step back, bringing a broader grin to his face.
Waiting till she met his gaze, Shane said, “You drive. Get used to the Rover,” and without waiting for a reply, the author sauntered to the passenger side, climbing in. Emily’s suspicious gaze met his through the windshield, but pivoting she went inside, returning quickly with purse in tow.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, Emily suppressed a sigh as she touched the buttery soft leather seat, but her voice was steely as she said, “I’ll drive, but you’ll tell me about your latest story, and why you’re stuck.”
Emily felt rather than saw Shane’s eyebrow rise over his glasses’ frame, even as he agreed in an amused voice. They were off, and had only travelled to the Coast Highway when Shane instructed her to turn right into a parking lot outside a thankfully closed See’s Candy store and a bustling donut shop. As they parked, and Emily slipped out of the SUV, she realized this was her first date since Darrell died. She stumbled.