Boss Girl (Minnesota Ice #2) Read online

  “He’s been busy,” Lindsay says, leaning against the door. “Relax—I can see you stressing. Should I order some breakfast?”

  “No, I’m not hungry,” I tell her. “Unless you want something. Otherwise, I’ll just pop down and grab a cappuccino—”

  “No—” she says too quickly. “Let me. I have to stretch my legs.”

  “Stretch your legs?” I watch her hustle out of the room like her seat is on fire. It’s eight thirty in the morning on a Friday. Nobody needs to stretch their legs before nine a.m. on a Friday morning.

  I settle into my office, set my purse in its place, and boot up my computer. I’m logging on when someone calls a hello from the front door.

  “Come in,” I call out, letting my eyes glance over the calendar on my screen. I blink and do a double take. It looks like my meetings have all been cancelled. For a moment, I panic. All of my meetings cancelled? It must be a mistake. Maybe Lindsay moved some things around thinking I’d be stressed. That’s got to be the explanation.

  I’m pulling out my phone to text her when heavy footsteps pass through the lobby, then continue toward my office. I recognize those footsteps.

  Slowly, heart sailing a hundred miles an hour, I look up from my desk and stare over my computer screen. “Boxer?”

  He grins. “I have something for you.”

  I’m too shocked at finding him standing here to respond. He looks great in his jeans and a black t-shirt that shows off a set of beautiful arms I’ve been dreaming of for weeks—longing to have them wrapped around me, holding me late into the night and into the next morning.

  True to his word, he’s never pushed things past a kiss. Much to my dismay.

  “Do you want to see what it is?” A smile sparkles beneath his blue eyes, his expression warm and excited. “It’s homemade.”

  “I haven’t heard from you...”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, face falling. “I should’ve called first, but I wanted this to be a surprise. I didn’t trust myself to talk to you on the phone because I’m terrible at secrets.”

  “A surprise?” I feel like an incredibly stupid parrot just repeating phrases of his sentences. “For me?”

  “Yes, for you!” He laughs. “I’m glad we caught you off guard. This took a lot of planning and coordination”

  “We?”

  “Are you going to take this or not?”

  “Oh, of course.” I reach for the envelope in his hand. The outside is papered with stickers, and I have a strong suspicion that Charli had a hand in its decorating. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Team effort,” he says.

  I laugh at the unicorn prancing across the flap and do my best not to rip the paper as I tear it open. Holding my breath, I slide out a handmade thank-you card. It’s signed by both Charli and Boxer and lists seventeen different reasons they were grateful for my help at her birthday party. The cake. The Target run. The party favors. The tickets.

  The whole thing is so sweet, and I can’t help but feel strangely touched by it, even as I wonder why this is relevant two months after the fact. I clear my throat and murmur a thank you back. “You didn’t have to hand deliver this.”

  “I did,” he says. “Flip it over and read the back.”

  I shoot him a skeptical glance and do as he says. There, on the back, is a whole new set of firework stickers. Underneath all of the explosions is a handwritten invitation from Charli:

  Dear Jocelyn,

  Please come with us to 6 Flags. I’m bringing a friend, and dad needs a ride buddy. We have your ticket already. You’re his best friend besides me.

  From,

  Charli

  If I found it difficult to hide my surprise before, it’s nearly impossible now. It’s all I can manage to squeak out a question. “Six Flags, huh? When?”

  He leans forward, the scent of him spiraling toward me, bringing me back to earlier nights of shared whispers, close embraces, and moonlight kisses outside of one of our homes as we prolonged an evening of wonder together.

  “It’s a get out of jail free card,” he says, pointing to the date at the bottom. “Please excuse Miss Jones from work.”

  In Charli’s handwriting. “She gave me a hall pass for 6 Flags?”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I coordinated with your assistant so you could play hooky today.”

  “Lindsay’s in on this?!” Suddenly, her disappearance makes sense. “Oh, that little sneak.”

  “I begged her to let me do it,” he says. “I asked her weeks ago.”

  “Weeks ago?!” The door cranks open in the lobby, hesitant footsteps tiptoeing across the carpet. “Lindsay?! Get in here!”

  She walks in, three cappuccinos in a carrier tray. “Sorry, boss,” she says. “You get the day off.”

  “I don’t take days off.”

  “It’s true,” Lindsay tells Boxer as she hands him a coffee. “Not once since I’ve been hired. She barely leaves the office early for doctor appointments, and she always works from home after to make it up. She’s nuts, I tell ya—nuts!”

  “You’re nuts, thinking you could keep this a secret from me!” I tell her, eyebrows raised. “I can’t believe it.”

  She pauses, inches forward and drops the cappuccino on my desk. “I did keep it a secret. You’re surprised, right? Mission accomplished.”

  “I thought we were friends,” I tell her. “Best friends tell each other everything.”

  “Except surprise parties,” she says. “I’ve cleared all your meetings from the calendar—they were moved weeks ago. Nothing was last minute. I just didn’t tell you about it because I knew you’d get suspicious.”

  “Well, yes. What about the meeting with Marc?”

  “Monday at nine a.m.”

  “Mr. Waters?”

  “Tuesday afternoon at three, he’ll swing by the office.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “You took care of everything for me?”

  “He did most of the work,” Lindsay says, pointing an elbow at Boxer. “I just played Tetris with your calendar.”

  “It sounds like you have no excuse not to come with us,” Boxer says. “Like Charli said, I need a ride buddy.”

  “Jocelyn gets sick on the Tilt a Whirl,” Lindsay says with a shudder. “Tried to take her once awhile back. My advice: Don’t.”

  Boxer extends a hand for mine. I place my fingers in his and allow him to pull me to my feet. The next thing I know, I’ve said goodbye to Lindsay, set up my auto responder to show Out of Office for the first time in ages, and ditched my job for a day at the amusement park.

  Who would’ve thought? Almost thirty years old, and I’m finally becoming a rebel.

  Chapter 31

  Jocelyn

  He adores his daughter; there’s no other way to describe it. And the feeling is mutual. The way Charli looks at her dad, it’s like there are beacons of light shining from her eyes.

  When she’s old enough to get married, men everywhere are going to have their work cut out for them. They say women marry men like their father—I hope that’s true, for Charli’s sake.

  “What do you say, one more ride?” Boxer asks. “Then we’ll call it quits.”

  “Ten more rides!” Charli screams.

  My stomach goes queasy with the thought. Thankfully, Charli’s friend, Abby, is looking peaked too, and it’s with a firm shake of his head that Boxer says no. “One more. That’s final.”

  Charli, smart cookie that she is, picks the ride with the longest wait time ever. The ride itself is a rollercoaster, the biggest one in the park that they’re tall enough to go on, and it’s the one everyone wants to hit one last time before leaving.

  “She picked this one on purpose,” I tell Boxer. “She doesn’t want to leave.”

  “I don’t mind,” he says as the girls inch forward, leaning on the railing as they watch cart after cart take off, waving wildly to each one. “Hard to complain about a little more time next to you.”

  He inches his hand onto my
lower back, his thumb tucking beneath the fabric of my shorts. Luckily, we swung past my place so I could change out of my heels and dress clothes before spending a day at the park.

  The girls are oblivious to us, and I’m suddenly grateful for the long line. Boxer moves me in front of him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pressing a spine-tingling kiss to my neck. It’s just tender enough to make me shiver, just hot enough to make me melt back into him.

  He groans as my backside presses to him. I clear my throat and stand straight, but he growls his disapproval. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “We’re in public!”

  “It’s dark outside. Park’s almost closing.”

  Despite his argument, he moves to stand next to me and lets his hand meander back toward my waistband. All day we’ve been acting like high schoolers, waiting for the girls to get distracted so we could have a moment of privacy. Boxer hasn’t told Charli about us being anything but business partners yet, though she must be picking up on something—judging by the note in her handmade invitation.

  Best friend, I think, leaning against his shoulder and watching as the first legs of starlight dance upon Charli’s hair. I like that. Best friend.

  I slip my hand through his and raise onto my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Thank you for an amazing day.”

  “Girls,” he says, guiding me forward with a hand to my back as he leans down to Charli’s level. “How do you feel about being responsible?”

  Charli gives him a rightfully confused expression. “Meh.”

  “Why don’t you and Abby ride by yourselves, and Jocelyn and I will wait right over here near the exit?”

  Charli surveys the scene. We don’t have that much further until the front of the line, and we can see each other the entire way. The exit pops out right next to the entrance, so it’s next to impossible for them to get lost.

  “That’s cool,” she says, sounding much older than her years. “We can do that.”

  We wait with the girls until they’re safely buckled into the ride, and then step off the platform and perch ourselves near the exit. There’s a little offshoot that’s quite empty, a vantage point from which we can watch the girls and maintain some semblance of privacy.

  “Not feeling well?” I tease, my breath catching in my throat as he boxes me in against the railing with one arm on either side of my body.

  “Sure,” he says, nuzzling against my neck. “Whatever you want to believe.”

  I laugh softly, cherishing the warmth of his arms against the chill of the night air. The ride takes off, and we separate for a moment, waving to the girls before they round the corner and shrieks carry them into the darkness.

  “I needed this, needed it so badly,” he says, his arms landing on my shoulders and spinning me to face him. “Going four days without talking to you was too long.”

  “I know. I missed you.”

  His lips meet mine, starving for this moment. There’s no time to be tender, no slow build to fuel. We’re on fire. He presses against me as he clasps my face in his hands and deepens the kiss.

  My arms are around his neck, dragging him under with me. I can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t think; I need him. To be apart from him is an ache impossible to ease.

  These last weeks, we’ve been testing boundaries, pushing our limits. If New York wasn’t looming, I’d insist he come home with me tonight.

  “This was a horrible idea,” he murmurs, breaking just long enough in his pause to pepper my cheek with kisses. “I just want you more, now. I don’t know if I can wait.”

  “I know.” I grin, then squeeze him into a hug to get the smile back on his face. “Just think, though, the anticipation will all be worth it.”

  “Are you ready?” he asks, his eyes landing on mine. Our bodies are still lined against one another, but the heat has faded to a cool burn. “Are you ready for New York?”

  “Yes.” I meet his gaze head on and supplement my response with a nod. “Are you?”

  “More than anything, sweetheart. But you know what it means—when we sleep together, when I introduce you to Charli as my girlfriend—”

  I silence him with the softest kiss I can muster. “I know,” I tell him. “I want everything. You. Charli. Whatever that entails.”

  “Come home with me tonight.” He’s got me pressed against him again, and it’s intoxicating. “I need you, Joss.”

  “Tonight’s not the right time,” I tell him, gritting my teeth as I try to convince myself. I can feel his need, and my own desire is streaking through me. “One week.”

  As if to prove my point, the ride comes to a stop and we’re forced to break apart. He gives me one last kiss, fast and hard to the lips, his hands covering my body in a way that has me feeling like I belong. To him. To the here and now.

  “Fine,” he says, as the park employees start letting children off the ride. He glances over my shoulder for the girls, then turns his gaze on me for one fiery moment. “But don’t make any plans for New York because you’re all mine. All weekend.”

  I barely manage to nod.

  “The week after, and the week after that, too,” he says, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

  The moment is broken as the girls hop down the exit ramp, and we move to the gate to greet them. But as we drive home, I find myself sitting in silence, Charli’s recap of the day falling on deaf ears as I think about what’s to come.

  Later in the night, as I toss and turn in bed, my stomach twisting in knots, I realize that I’m nervous. I’m nervous for the week ahead, the anticipated stay in New York. Our first night together, what it will be like—and what it might not. I worry about the future—what I will lose if everything falls apart.

  Then I worry about my heart because somehow, I’ve fallen in love—so deeply and desperately in love that the mere thought of it brings an ache to my chest, and I hadn’t even seen it coming.

  Chapter 32

  Boxer

  This is stupid. I’ve never seen underwear so stupid.

  I can’t believe they’re paying me a stupid sum of money just to wear these and smile for the camera. If it weren’t for Jocelyn, I’d probably tell them where to shove their underwear and get on a plane back home—forget about the money.

  But I won’t do that because I’m too excited to see her tonight. All night. Every inch of her. It might’ve been my idea to wait for New York, to hold off until we could be alone and uninterrupted, and until we’d gotten to know each other before jumping into bed.

  Except now, at the end of eight torturous weeks, I’m feeling pretty stupid for that being my idea.

  This is going to be the most awkward photoshoot ever if I don’t stay focused. Two months of making out with Jocelyn Jones and not having much in the way of closure would be enough to drive most men insane. Add on the daydreams that’ve been plaguing my mind, and I’m in trouble.

  The makeup lady knocks on the door, and I throw on sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “Come in,” I tell her.

  As she sits me down and begins work on my face, I’m left with nothing to do but think. I can’t think about tonight, however, for reasons already stated. If I daydream too much, I’ll be poking the crew in the face.

  But my mind won’t stay away from her, and I realize that maybe the two month wait was worth it. In the long run, it’s a blip on the spectrum of life. A mere breath in the passing of time.

  The woman drives me crazy, and she doesn’t even realize it. I act irrational around her, break all my rules, forget all the promises I made to myself when Lauren left us years ago.

  Charli. She’s the reason for the two month fast. The delayed gratification. Going into tonight, I have no doubts. It’s not only right, it’s necessary. Whatever comes afterward, so be it. I need Jocelyn in every way, and I can only hope she needs me back. Needs us in her life. My greatest hope and greatest fear, all mixed into one.

  “There you are,” Jocelyn says, pushing t
he door open. “How are you feeling?”

  “Go away,” I tell her. “Please.”

  Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Sorry?”

  “Just a second. I’ll be right there.”

  She closes the door without another word.

  I feel bad sending Jocelyn away, especially since we didn’t fly out here together, so this is our first meeting in New York. I flew with Charli up to San Francisco where my parents were tickled pink to watch her over the weekend—my mother’s words, not mine. Steve had initially planned on it, but something for work had come up, so I’d made the flight out here from SFO while Joss had jumped on a plane from LAX.

  Now, I’d sent her off without a proper hello. But really, it was for safety reasons. I last saw her at Six Flags a week ago, and that damn kiss is still imprinted on my mind—the second she walks into the room, the memories are sure to come flooding back.

  I rush the makeup artist through whatever she’s doing with her brush. When she finally declares me all done and tucks her brushes into her belt, I breathe a sigh of relief and pull the door open.

  “There you are.” I find Joss standing outside, examining her nails while pretending to not be annoyed. “Come inside.”

  “Hello to you too,” she says with a crispness to her words as she enters the room. “Quite busy, I see?”

  “Joss.” I let my hands trail through her hair. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.”

  I examine the back of her in the mirror, the curve of her hips in tight black pants, the bright blue tank top that brings out her eyes, the little jacket that doesn’t quite reach her waist. She’s stunning.

  “I couldn’t let you in here,” I say with a small smile. “Because I knew this would happen.”

  “What?”

  I lean in for a kiss, grasping her arms in my hands. There’s a buzz of excitement in the air, the tension thick as butter. She’s surprised, I can feel it in the stiffness of her limbs, just like I sense the second she relaxes and urges her body toward mine.

  “Oh, my God,” she giggles, feeling the weight of me press against her. “We can’t have this happening during the photoshoot.”