One
Natalie
Pullingintothedrivewayof my boss’s luxurious mountain home in Eggplant Canyon, I hope my car doesn’t drip oil on his pristine driveway. That’s not the kind of mark I’d like to leave on his life. If I ever got to play out my fantasies, I’d leave lipstick on his collar, his chest, his co—I stop myself from imagining my boss’seggplant.
I give myself a mental shake and grab the large envelope with the contract he needs me to drop off. The errant thoughts will serve me just fine later, but for now, the most fun I can have is pretending I live with him and I’m coming home.
Be nice. Be pretty. Be useful.My mother’s mantra plays through my mind. It may be a little ridiculous, but here I am, after hours, delivering a contract in between waves of the horrific storm.
Reaching under the chair, I feel around for the hidden key that he said is magnetically attached. When I don’t find anything, I drop to my hands and knees to look. Still nothing.
Did I remember incorrectly? Checking the other chair and small table, there’s no key. I poke around the porch at the edge of the bushes looking for a fake rock like my parents used to use.
He gave me one mission…leave the contract inside his house. I’d supposed my biggest problem would be refraining from testing how cozy his sofa is, or finding his bedroom and smelling his pillows—I’m not a creeper—but he probably has cameras and I’d end up fired.
But I can’t even stick to my job and leave the contract inside if I can’t find the key. I glance overhead at the sky full of black clouds. The small break in the storm isn’t enough for me to trust leaving the contract on the porch.
Doing exactly what my boss asked would be ideal, but if I can’t find the key, I suppose I can leave the contract at my brothers’ house next door, then have one of them deliver it when Mister Adams gets home. Will I get points for thinking outside the box?
My boss and my brothers are friends. It was that connection that landed me the high-paying administrative assistant job that I can’t afford to mess up.
I lose myself for a moment, staring at the ominous skyline cresting the mountain ridge opposite his house. It’s a view I could get used to, but that will be from my siblings’ house since our company has a strict ‘no fraternizing’ policy.
A chuckle bubbles through me…as if I’d have a chance to fraternize with my boss who barely ever looks my way.
The crack of the front door opening causes me to spin around. He’s not supposed to get back in town until later. I spoke to him thirty minutes ago. Yet he’s here.
My heart’s beating out of control.
Is this more than a request for me to bring the contract? Am I ready for my fantasy world to be put to the test?
Wet heat pools between my legs in the brief second we stare at each other. He’s so much more relaxed at home than at the office. His t-shirt hangs on him like it’s an old favorite, there’s no styling product in his hair, and his features are ever-so-slightly more relaxed… Like he’s a different person.
Jefferson
Does my twin brother have a stalker?
The woman rustling around on his front porch causes me to think so. Lincoln’s large glass windows give me an adequate view of the woman, although if she were to look, she wouldn’t be able to see much of me with how the furniture is arranged.
Shifting from my relaxed sprawl on the couch, I sit forward with my hands on my knees, ready to go to the door. Even though she can’t hear me, I suppress my groan when she gets on all fours.
Is it wrong to watch? Is it wrong for her to be snooping on my brother’s porch?
I hesitate. What’s wrong is that I want to pretend to be my twin and imagine having this gorgeous woman in my life.
Her business suit and bun, and the manilla envelope she’s holding, give her an air of confidence like she belongs here. Why doesn’t she knock?
I take that back. Looking under everything on the porch doesn’t exactly scream that she belongs, but she’s not looking over her shoulder or looking to see if he has one of those doorbell cameras.
Who is she? And what is she doing?
She rights herself, her hands and manilla folder flop to her sides, and she drops her head back. Is she looking at the sky?
Oh shit. I got in town a few days ago and haven’t put Lincoln’s hidden key back. As far as Lincoln knows, I’m supposed to be at a meeting with my lawyer, but he had to cancel, leaving me home unexpectedly.
I stride to the door and with every step I’m more curious who this woman is. She’s gorgeous with a self-assured innocence. She’s making my cock hard. She’s exactly what I don’t need right now.
I moved back to Eggplant Canyon and am working with a lawyer to get partial custody of my son, Harrison. My wild ways when I was younger cost me dearly. One of the few things I’d contributed to my son’s life other than sperm, was that I’d asked my girlfriend to use a presidential name like my parents had done. Harrison is the one she chose. I appreciate that she extended that courtesy and did such a great job of raising him on her own up until this point.