Falling Hard for the Boss by Kelly Moore

Author:Kelly Moore [Moore, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

My mouth waters as I gape at him in my doorway. His low-riding jeans fit nicely on his muscular frame. The casual white t-shirt he has on makes him look much younger than his stuffy suits and button downs.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful emerald eyes?” He seizes me into his arms. “But I like them when they turn forest green because it means you’re turned on,” he says as he brushes his lips against mine.

I fold my arms around his neck. “Well, hello to you too.” I kiss him softly.

“We better stop or we won’t get out of here.” He pulls away, taking my hand in his.

“I don’t know what we are doing… Is this okay to wear?” I have on skinny jeans and a strappy, deep purple top.

“It’s perfect. Now come on.”

He opens the door of his silvery blue Porsche Carrera convertible. “Oh, my God. This is my dream car.” I slide in and start touching everything. I’ve always dreamt of getting one exactly like this.

“You like?” he asks, sliding into the driver’s seat. He pushes a button and a compartment unfolds. He takes out his silver Ray-Bans and slides them on his face.

“Can I drive it?” I smile and bat my eyes.

“Uh, no.” He throws it in gear and the tires spin as he speeds out into the street.

I pout, but quickly blow it off. Who could blame him? If it were mine, I wouldn’t let him drive it either. I dig my sunglasses and a hair tie out of my purse. Despite the wind, I manage to wrangle my hair on top of my head.

He reaches over and turns on the radio and I’m shocked that he likes reggae music. “Is that Stick Figure?” I laugh, not picturing him liking that kind of music.

His head bebops to the music. “They’re one of my favorites.” He turns it up louder and starts singing the words to Smokin’ Love.

I can’t help but giggle at his playfulness. I like this side of him, it’s much less intense. We drive through the night, singing over the sound of the wind, until we get to the shoreline of Rockport. I love this little city and its harbors. He parks in front of the Roy Moore Lobster Company.

“Stay put,” he says, getting out of the car. He walks around to my side and opens the door. His hand finds its way around my waist, tucking me into his side. The façade of the restaurant is decorated with old grey cedar shake shingles and a massive red wooden lobster serves as the door handle. Everything about it embodies the perfect sea-town dive. There is a counter for placing orders, but the seating is all out on the deck overlooking the blue waters of the Atlantic. Boats are moored up along its deck, and the small, bobbing outlines of shrimp boats pepper the horizon.

He slides a chair out for me. “Have you eaten here before?”

“No, but it looks fantastic,” I say scooting my chair on the deck.

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