Boss I Love To Hate Read online

  “I love you,” she whispered in my ear, relaxing against me. “Thank you for being here. You don’t know how many days I’ve spent worrying about this.” When she pulled back, her mouth went lax, and her eyes scoured the over six feet of fineness beside me.

  “I’m Brad.” His voice was low, masculine, silky, and smooth.

  Carrie’s mouth fluttered open and then shut. “Carrie.” She stuck out her hand to meet his. It happened in slow motion, as though they were in a film, meeting for the first time.

  Internally, I laughed because this was precisely the reaction I had been hoping for.

  Her stare ping-ponged between us, and then she pointed at him. “Aren’t you … aren’t you the BILF? You work with Sonia.” Her finger shook in front of his chest. “You are the BILF!”

  I blanched, pale, pasty white, like the pasta I ate almost every other day.

  She had not just said that out loud. My jaw locked, and I tipped my chin, indicating that she should stop talking. I would kill Ava for this.

  “BILF?” Brad asked, confusion evident in his tone.

  “Yeah BILF, like MILF.” She motioned between us. “When did this happen?” She turned to me with accusation in her eyes. “I thought you hated him. She calls you names behind your back just so you know. She has these weird drawings of you and even has a voodoo doll and this dartboard thing.” Carrie let out a little chuckle.

  “I do not!” My neck, my face, and my ears felt impossibly hot.

  To my utter shock, Brad played along, his face the epitome of amused. “Very interesting. Is that why I had numbness in my leg the other day?”

  Carrie laughed, but I was far from entertained.

  “Oh, look! I think Tim is calling you.” I turned her toward the front of the church and shoved her. “Go. We’ll be up there in a second.”

  She contested, but I gave her a look that said I would make a voodoo doll of her if she didn’t keep on moving.

  When she left, Brad’s smirk widened. “BILF. Instead of Brad, are you going to call me BILF from now on?”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s what my friends call you. I call you …”I coughed. BILK.“… other things you’d rather not know.” It was way too late for anything less than honesty at this point. Everything was out in the open. “So, if you ever bring this up again, I will literally poison your lunch. Now, let’s go.” I pivoted and headed to the front of the church, ignoring his smug attitude behind me.

  * * *

  Brad

  There were many things I’d been noticing about Sonia lately. One of which was that she fidgeted way too much. Her knee bounced beside me as the priest in the front went over what would be happening today, a mirror of tomorrow. He explained the logistics, how people should walk in, where they should stand, and the order of events of the wedding. All during which anxiety poured out of Sonia in roller coaster waves.

  “Hey,” I whispered. “Relax.”

  I placed my hand on her bare knee to still her, and she gripped my hand with so much force that her strength surprised me.

  “I know.” But the quiver in her voice told me she wouldn’t be relaxing anytime soon. “I hate public speaking.” She gnawed at her bottom lip, and her eyes flitted to the priest, to the bride and groom, and to the podium where she was going to speak.

  When it was time for the second reading, Sonia stood and then straightened her skirt. She walked to the podium with her head down and her hands fidgeting with the sides of her skirt. It was as if she wanted to disappear. Why hadn’t I noticed this before? At work, she seemed so sure of herself, confident.

  Sonia adjusted the mic, which screeched, and her cheeks reddened. Then, she paused, lifted her head, and recited the Bible verse, her voice steady, strong, and slow enough for others to understand.

  And, just like that, Sonia had stepped up to the plate, confidence back in her tone and the set of her shoulders. This was the girl I knew.

  When she sat down, I reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You were amazing.”

  She peered up at me with that adorable little pout. “Thanks.”

  Her body sagged against me as though she was glad that it was all over, and she scrunched her nose in the cutest way. As I wrapped an arm around her, I got the oddest sensation in the middle of my chest—an unrecognizable feeling, a lightness. The first thing that popped into my head was the story I had told Mary, about a prince saving Princess Sonia—because Mary had insisted that I name the princess Sonia in my nightly fairy tale.

  I leaned in closer, and though every ounce of sanity was telling me I shouldn’t and that I should keep my distance and that she was my secretary, I couldn’t stop the urge to be near her.

  An hour and a half later, we were at Gino’s East pizzeria in a private room reserved for the wedding party.

  “So …” Ava said, eyes wide. “It’s great that you’re doing this for Sonia. Being her date and all. Jeff is an ass. I never liked him, but Sonia seemed to be so damn in love. He’s a jerk for leaving her, and that Barbie chick—whoever she is—is not cute. At all. Fake boobs, Botox lips, fake eyelashes. It’s the opposite of Sonia, who screams all-natural beauty.”

  I never knew a woman who could talk as much as Mary, but Ava had my niece beat. Her mouth was like a machine gun, shooting words at full speed. I doubted I could get a word in, so I nodded and tipped back my beer.

  My gaze drifted back to Sonia across the room, by the bar. She was surrounded by four girls, all stealing glances my way. Sonia’s cheeks turned a crimson red, and I could only imagine what they were grilling her about. Maybe they’d made up stories about our after-work bedroom activities. Maybe Sonia had bragged about me and my skills after hours, but as she ducked her head, focused her stare on the floor, and dug the toe of her boot into the ground, my smile slipped. Once the bartender set down her drink, she grabbed it and stalked my way.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Ava.

  I met Sonia halfway and wrapped an arm around her waist against my better judgment—again. “So, what were you talking about over there?” I tipped my head toward the girls still gawking at us.

  She blinked up at me, and her forehead wrinkled. “Nothing.”

  I lifted her chin to meet my eyes. “With women, I know nothing means something. Spill.”

  “They want to know if you’re single.” She peered behind her and then shook her head. “The nerve, right?” She teetered back and forth in her boots, gripping the glass of whatever she was drinking too tightly within her fingertips.

  What fucking nerve was right. “Nice friends you have there.” My body tensed, the muscles in my forearms going rigid.

  “They’re not my friends, not my real friends. They’re acquaintances, and right now, they’re annoying the hell out of me.” She tipped back her drink and swallowed three full gulps. “How are they going to ask me that? I came here with you.” Her expression pinched.

  The women continued to whisper among themselves across the room. One of them raised a flirty hand in greeting, beyond disrespectful. They didn’t care, but I sure as hell did. I slipped my arms around Sonia’s waist and brought her close, nuzzling her neck, and the sweet scent of her hit me. My heartbeat picked up in speed, like an adrenaline rush, and I wasn’t prepared for the shock of my body reacting to being so close to her.

  What was that scent? Apples? Something sweet, not perfume. I angled closer, getting a deeper sniff, and a sudden urge to bite her in the most tender part of her skin—between her ear and her shoulder—pushed through.

  I restrained myself before whispering, “Who am I? Your boyfriend? To them, I mean.” My nose grazed the shell of her ear, and she shivered. “If you want them to stop looking, you have to play the part.” My gaze lingered on her throat, and my hands went to the soft curves of her hips.

  She pulled back, her eyes searching, and with the smallest voice possible, so tiny that I strained to hear her, she said, “Okay.”

  And then I kissed the corner of her mouth, close
enough to taste those lips but with just enough restraint not to go there.

  The shock of the contact went straight to my dick.

  I heard her sharp intake of breath before she blinked up at me.

  It was the tiniest of pecks, but I felt it everywhere. I was right. She smelled of apples. It must be her lotion or her shampoo.

  She stiffened when I didn’t release her right away, and I meant to, but I couldn’t. The oddest realization came over me, one I’d never entertained. I wanted more of that kiss … but a real kiss. With her.

  Damn.

  What is happening to me?

  Her hands moved up my chest, and slowly, she pushed and backed away. Her eyes were wide and questioning, and when I peered up behind her, I realized I’d accomplished the very thing I had wanted to. The women were shocked, and the woman who had waved at me earlier sported a noticeable frown.

  My focus went to Sonia when she touched the corner of her mouth, staring at me as though she didn’t know what to say.

  She blinked a few times and adjusted her glasses. “Well, that was weird.”

  “I thought that was rather nice.” I captured her chin with my forefinger, swiping her bottom lip with my thumb, again having the undeniable urge to taste her fully.

  My breathing slowed, and my eyes flickered to her lightly glossed pink lips.

  Can’t go there. She’s my secretary. My brothers will feed my balls to some stray dogs.

  I coughed, and after a few seconds too long, I slowly inched away from my tempting, sarcastic, and sweet secretary. “Sorry about that. I thought that was necessary, given what you’re trying to accomplish.” What is she trying to accomplish? Make her boyfriend jealous, win him back, or am I truly eye candy to save her pride?

  “It’s fine.” She shook her head. “I mean, we’ll have to up the game tomorrow for the wedding, right?” Her voice was shaky, sexy, soft.

  She took a step back, a step too far, and her fingers flew to her lips again. She blinked, doe-eyed and dazed, and was so damn beautiful that, with all the warning signs that told me not to, I did it anyway. I kissed her again, in the same spot. I meant for her lips, a direct connection, but I missed.

  “Brad!” Her eyes searched the room. When I smirked, she leaned into me. “I think you’re enjoying this way too much. I might have to tattletale and tell Charles.”

  I pinched her side. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t test me. I totally will.” The apple of her cheeks flushed pink.

  I was tempted to do it again, but I held steady. Because I thought of all that was at stake—my relationship with my brothers, my work relationship with her, our friendship.

  I swallowed.

  I needed self-control.

  * * *

  An hour later, we were parked in front of my house. The car ride was silent, and thoughts of kissing her again played over and over in my head. Kissing her today, just a peck at the corner of her mouth, had been like sticking a fork in the most tempting chocolate cake, taking a lick of the frosting, and stopping, knowing there was a whole cake to gorge on, a sweetness, a rich, decadent, delicious devil’s food cake to devour.

  Shit, this was going too far.

  As I watched her fast asleep beside me—her mouth slightly ajar, the moonlight highlighting the delicate planes of her face, her glasses slipping off her nose—the need to take a deeper taste of her was overwhelming.

  After a few minutes of watching her like a stalker, I softly nudged her. “Sonia.” I brushed the strands of hair from her face. “Sonia, we’re here.”

  She stirred and slowly blinked awake. Lifting up her arms over her head in a satisfying stretch, she moaned loudly. “I really, really have to pee.”

  God, was she cute. “Your car needs a tune-up.”

  I stepped out of the car, and when I opened her door, she flew out of the car.

  She jumped up and down in what I would describe as Mary’s pee dance. “I know. I know. Hey, can you move a little faster and get the door open?”

  When I opened the door, Sonia sprinted to the bathroom and was gone.

  I was greeted by boisterous laughter.

  Mary was in her favorite outfit—Princess Elsa from Frozen, wig, dress, shoes, and all. “Uncle Brad!”

  She propelled forward, and I caught her in my arms. There was no way I’d ever get tired of this type of greeting.

  “Where’s Sonia? Where did she go?” Mary adjusted her long white wig on top of her head.

  “Wait, let me get this straight.” I narrowed my eyes. “I come into this house, you jump in my arms, and the first thing you say is, ‘Where’s Sonia?’ Well, where’s Sarah?”

  Mary bounced in my arms and pointed to the family room. “She and Leilah are trying to find a movie to watch. I think Beauty and the Beast is the winner.”

  I peered down at the overhead clock in the kitchen. “Leilah has to go home. Her parents will be waiting for her.”

  Leilah was the seventeen-year-old neighbor that we hired on and off to babysit the girls. A much better alternative to the fired Annie.

  “Well then, you have to stay up and watch the movie with us. We already popped some popcorn.”

  In typical Mary fashion, she pouted, pleading her case, and in typical favorite-uncle fashion, I rubbed my nose against hers.

  “Okay, just this once.”

  “Hey, Mary,” Sonia said, her face relieved, her hair a bit frazzled from the car.

  Mary immediately jumped out of my hold, and Sonia was the new object of Mary’s affection.

  She propelled into Sonia’s arms. “Watch a movie with us.” And then, with her pout, she pushed out her lip further for emphasis. “Please. Please. Please, Sonia.” Mary had perfected the cute baby voice, one that didn’t come out as whiny but sweet.

  “Oh, honey, I can’t. I have to get up early for a wedding tomorrow.”

  “Pleeeeeease,” Mary strung out the word, not giving up yet.

  Sonia begged me with her eyes for assistance, but there was no way you could deter Mary when she was on a mission.

  “Pretty please. We have the popcorn ready and pillows and blankets all laid out, and we’re watching Beauty and the Beast, which is my favorite movie in the whole wide world. Please, Sonia. I’ll never ever ask you for anything again. Ever.”

  That was a lie that I’d heard a million times before.

  Then, Mary went in for the kill. She squeezed Sonia tighter, arms wrapped around her neck, and kissed her cheek like Woody Woodpecker, kissing and alternating with pleases.

  When Sonia sighed, I knew she was a goner “Okay. Just for a little bit.”

  Mary claimed victory. With a loud squee, Mary was on her feet, running toward the family room, screaming, “Sarah! Sonia is staying!”

  “She definitely should go into sales.” Sonia rubbed the back of her neck and pushed out her lip in a pout of her own. “I have to get up at eight to make a nine o’clock hair appointment.”

  “Come on.” I threw an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close, taking in her scent again. “The movie is only a couple of hours. Plus, Mary will fall asleep before it ends.”

  She huffed audibly loud and rested against me. “I didn’t have a chance, did I?”

  “Nope.”

  Mary could lay on the charm hard, and I’d seen no one who could resist. Except for Charles, her father, but that was only on very few occasions.

  “I’m tired.”

  “Me, too.” I dragged us into the living room where pillows from the couch and from their bedrooms were laid across the carpet up to our knees.

  “This will make me fall asleep for sure.” Sonia yawned and plopped down on the floor on top of a bed of pillows.

  “Don’t worry; I’ll wake you up when Mary is fast asleep.”

  Chapter 10

  Sonia

  I snuggled closer. The soft feel of cotton pressed against my cheek. The clean fabric-softener scent filtered through my nose, and I nuzzled against it. When my hand
s moved against the firm surface beneath me, I lifted an eyebrow, forcing one eye open.

  Then, my head snapped back. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” I jolted to a sitting position from the floor, watching Brad stretch in front of me.

  The pillows and blankets were scattered all around us.

  That cotton was his shirt; the firm surface was the span of his forever-pack, which was now slightly exposed, as his shirt was pushed up to below his nipple—by me.

  My cheeks heated. I wouldn’t doubt it if the heat spread to my forehead.

  I guessed I was trying to get underneath the covers.

  “What time is it?”

  The room had cleared. Sarah and Mary must’ve gone upstairs to sleep in their respective bedrooms, leaving Brad and me all alone.

  I hovered over him, reaching to the other side of him to get to my eyeglasses and my purse on the hardwood. He watched me with amusement as I straddled his middle, unable to get to my glasses because I couldn’t see a damn thing.

  “Time. I need the time.” After putting my glasses on, I plucked my phone from my purse and screamed. “Omigod, it’s eight thirty! I’ll never make it.”

  When I stood, Brad followed.

  “Calm yourself. The wedding is not until one.”

  I smacked him with my purse. “I have a hair appointment at nine! You were supposed to wake me up. Last night.”

  “You look fine.” He tousled my matted hair. “You can just go like this.” The heavy smirk that was signature to Brad was on display.

  “Screw you.”

  He laughed, and a slice of six-pack showed when he lifted his arms to stretch. “Only if you want to, but I think Charles might not approve.”

  “Brad!” I whined. “Not funny.”

  I’d never make it. Get my hair done at the salon and be late, or do my hair myself, look like the help, and be on time. I wanted to cry.

  I flipped around, grabbed my shoes, and stormed off to the entryway.

  “I’m kidding, Sonia.” He shuffled behind me and took hold of my shoulders, moving me to face him. “Breathe.”