Dear Grumpy Boss: A Brother’s Best Friend Office Romance (The Harder They Fall)
Dear Grumpy Boss: Chapter 11

WESTON TOOK ME TO a sushi restaurant a few blocks from Andes headquarters. We’d just placed our orders, and so far he had managed to keep his facial expressions on an even keel.

He clasped his hands on the table. “I’m sorry again for last week.”

He’d always had nice hands. Long fingers. Neatly trimmed nails. But now, they were essentially hand porn. Veins stood out like wild rivers running beneath his skin made golden by the sun. The calluses on his palms and fingers belied his position as CEO. Weston must have still loved spending time outdoors.

“It’s fine. It was presumptuous of me to think you’d have time for me.” I was completely over the rejection. When I’d had time to reflect on it, I’d felt a little stupid for calling. His schedule probably had next to no flexibility.

“No, it wasn’t presumptuous at all. I’ll always make time for you if I can, Elise.” He picked up his hot tea and took a slow sip before placing it on the table. “I have this problem. Well, I should say I’ve been told it’s a problem even though it’s always worked to my benefit.”

“Who told you it was a problem then?”

His mouth twitched. God, were his lips sexy. I’d forgotten how full the bottom one was. Full and pink. He was probably a great kisser, with that anatomy and his perfectionism.

“Ex-girlfriends,” he answered, pulling me right back to reality. Weston had a lot of ex-girlfriends.

“Okay, now I’m intrigued. Spill what your problem is.”

His lips pulled into a half smile. “I’ve been told many, many times I can be single-minded. When I’m concentrating on a project or deep in my work, I’m not aware of anything outside of it. In the past, I’ve missed reservations and forgotten plans for days because of my hyperfocus.”

“Ahhh…” I picked up the wrapper from my chopsticks and began folding it into a small square. “Yes, I can see why that would be a problem for your plethora of girlfriends.”

A deep, full laugh burst from him. “Plethora? Really?”

“Yes, Weston. Every time I saw you after you went away for college, you had a different woman with you. I think that qualifies as a plethora.”

His humor fell away. “Not all those women were girlfriends. In fact, most weren’t.”

“Yet you felt compelled to bring them to our family dinners.”

There had been a point in my life I’d considered Weston Aldrich my friend. Back then, I never questioned that he cared for me.

When he went to college and I started high school, things had changed. I’d been miserable, and deep down, even though it hadn’t been fair, I’d blamed Weston for what Miles had put me through. So, I’d stopped talking to him, and once I’d shoved that wedge between us, Weston had added to it by rarely coming to visit alone. He’d almost always had a girl with him—even at my going-away dinner before I moved to Chicago.

“I’m surprised to hear you’d noticed since you barely spoke a word to me,” he intoned.

“Just because I wasn’t speaking to you doesn’t mean I didn’t see you.”

His attention was on his teacup. He rotated it until it was in a position that seemed to satisfy him and looked up. “Why weren’t you speaking to me?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, Weston. Does it really even matter? We’re here together now. I’m speaking to you, and you no longer feel the need to bring one of your plethora with you, let’s just leave it at that.”

His brow started to lower, but I wagged my finger at him. “If you’re about to scowl at me, think again. You gave me your word. No frowning.”

His expression smoothed, the corners of his mouth hitching. “So, we’re never going to discuss how you went from my little buddy to a stone-cold bitch at the flip of a switch?”

I had to laugh. “You’re calling fourteen-year-old me a stone-cold bitch? Isn’t that illegal?”

He didn’t join me in laughing. “I guess that’s a no.”

My eyes rolled. “I wasn’t a bitch, West. I was having a tough time with self-image, my mom was going off the rails, high school sucked most of the time, and you kept getting more good-looking every year.”

His head cocked. “What does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t like myself back then, so I pushed everyone away.”

You. I pushed you away.

He went still, his gaze heavy and searing. “But I liked you enough for both of us.”

I sighed. He truly believed that. “I know you did.”

“You were like a sister to me.”

I cringed for my younger self. “And I had a massive crush on you, you oblivious man. The ingredients for disaster were there. My low self-esteem, your hotness, our age difference, your parade of gorgeous girlfriends. Once you went away, you came back as not mine anymore. I don’t know. Looking back, it’s silly, but at the time, it felt so big.”

He blinked at me a few times, slowly, as if trying to decipher what was real.

“It isn’t silly, Elise. Your feelings have never been silly to me. I wish I’d known back then.”

“I never would have told you any of that. Besides, it took me until adulthood to really understand why I was so mad at you. If you’d pressed me on it then, I would have either run away sobbing or cussed you out.”

He shook his head. “You never would have cussed me out. You’re too sweet for something like that.”

That made me laugh and raise a brow. “I thought I was a stone-cold bitch?”

“I only made that judgment because I didn’t have all the information. Now that I know how hot you think I am—”

“Oh my god!” I tossed my folded-up chopstick wrapper at him. “That was when I was basically a child, Weston. I obviously don’t think that anymore.”

His mouth curved into a smirk. “Am I hideous now, Elise?”

That was a fishing expedition if I’d ever heard one. Weston Aldrich was a lot of things, but hideous wasn’t one of them, and he was too smart not to be aware of it.

I wasn’t taking his bait.

“Oh, yes. I’m surprised you even go out in public.”

He inhaled deeply and rubbed his chest. “It’s tough, and takes a lot of courage, but I manage to leave my cave a few times a month.”

I clapped my hands. “Very brave.”

Our waiter brought our food, and we both went quiet. This wasn’t the topic I’d expected to talk to him about, but I guessed it was time to somewhat clear the air, and I was glad we had. Hopefully we could lay the past to rest.

Weston decided to ask me a question after I had just popped a California roll into my mouth.

“How was your date?”

I held up a finger, chewing, and then swallowing. I made him wait a few more seconds while I drank some water.

“It was strange to be with someone other than Patrick.” I crinkled my nose. “It struck me during my date with Thomas that I’m really, really single.”

“It only struck you then?”

“Don’t be purposely obtuse. It’s one thing to declare yourself single, it’s another to act on it. I’ve spent so long in a relationship, it’s strange to even consider letting another man touch me.”

“And did he?”

I picked up a tuna roll, my eyes flicking to Weston’s. “Did he what?”

He tapped his chopsticks on the table. “Touch you.”

“Oh. No. Well, he kissed me, but—”

His upper body lurched forward. “He kissed you? That’s touching.”

“It was a peck. And a hug,” I explained.

His upper lip curled. “I’m trying really hard not to scowl at you.”

I laughed. “Why would you scowl at me? You should be happy I’m moving on.”

“Isn’t it too soon to be kissing random lumberjacks?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s the exact right time for me to be kissing random redheaded lumberjacks. Besides, Thomas isn’t that random. He went to CU-Boulder too but was two years ahead of me. We have mutual friends.”

Weston speared his chopsticks into his pile of wasabi, peering at me from beneath furrowed brows. His expression was dangerously close to a glare. “Did you like it?”

“Kissing him?”

He lowered his chin.

“I’ve never kissed a guy with a beard. It was…different.”

He chuffed dismissively. “Sounds like a disaster.”

I snorted. “It wasn’t at all. I actually expected to feel like I was doing something wrong, which is ridiculous. I was pleasantly surprised to replace I didn’t feel guilty in the least.”

“You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“No, I know I don’t.” I shook my head. “Anyway, I might see him again. Some friends of his are going to see a band play on Friday night. He asked me to go out with them.”

The droll look he gave me said he was totally unimpressed. “He should be taking you out to dinner somewhere nice, where reservations are required. It’s too soon to just ‘hang out’ with his goonie friends.”

I burst out laughing. “You sound so frigging old, I can’t even believe it. Is this what happens when you turn thirty? You turn into some uptight elitist?”

“I’ve never changed, Elise.”

I pressed my lips together, amused. “So, you admit to always being uptight?”

He jabbed his chopsticks at me. “I’m beginning to think it was better when you were a stone-cold bitch. No insults flying my way.”

I leaned forward, grabbing his hand. “Come on, Westie. You don’t mean that.”

He flipped our hands over so his were on top. “No, I don’t mean it at all.” His fingers tightened around mine. “Jesus, the virgin blood is doing you well. Your skin is like brand new, out of the package. So soft.”

“One good thing my mother taught me was to always moisturize.” I dragged my index finger down the side of his thumb. “Your hands are rough. If they were chopped off and found in a ditch two states away, no one would believe they could belong to you. These aren’t the hands of a man who works at his computer all day.”

His sexy lips were parted, and probably not from desire. “That was macabre. Should I be worried for the safety of my hands?”

My teeth dug into my bottom lip. Teasing Weston had always been so fun. He was so serious but never failed to play along with me.

“Oh, so you’re selfish?”

His eyes flared. “How’s that?”

“When I told you about the virgins, you never batted an eye. But one mention of chopping off your hands and you’re calling the police.”

“I need my fucking hands, Elise.” He glared at me like I was the nut when he was the one practically shouting about his hands.

“The virgins need their blood, Westie!”

He clucked his tongue. “You’ve been spending too much time with Miles. He’s the only one who calls me that.”

“I don’t know why. It’s catchy.”

He gave me another long, considering look. “Do you see him outside the office?”

“Who? Miles?”

One brief nod. He still hadn’t let go of my hand.

“No. I only see him at work. But he’s decided he and I should have been friends back in school, and he missed the opportunity, so he’s making up for lost time by perching his ass on my desk every day.”

His mouth pulled down. “I’ll tell him to stop.”

“Why? He’s annoying, but he usually goes away when I tell him to.” After the fifth or sixth time.

“Has he been hugging you?”

He was fully frowning at me, breaking the first rule. But he’d put me in such a good mood I decided not to call him on it.

“All the time. We call them hug breaks. We take five minutes out of our day and hug it out. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed us on the security cameras.”

Grunting, he pulled his hand back and swiped his mouth with his napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t hug my brother.”

“I’ll try not to.”

He grunted again. “You know how to piss me off, Elise.”

I giggled at how easily riled he still was. God, I’d missed this man. “It’s like old times.”

And just like old times, when Weston gave me the full force of his attention, something inside me blossomed, awakening a craving for more attention, more long looks, more Weston. Fortunately, I was older and wiser.

Developing a crush on this man was a loser’s game.

We weren’t the kids we’d been when he’d held me as we watched elephant documentaries during my father’s Shiva. We could never go back to that easy innocence or casual closeness, not because of Weston but because of me. My heart was attuned to adoring this man. If I let myself, I could easily slip back into pining over him.

So, we’d have this: occasional lunches, silly emails, nothing more.

The walk back to the office was quiet, and that was my fault too. I was busy firming up my boundaries in my mind as Weston snuck questioning glances at me.

In the lobby, I stopped near the company store. Weston turned to me, his forehead crinkled.

“I’m going to check out the shop before I go up. I need some Andes gear for my hike this weekend.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder.

“All right. I’ll come with you.”

“That’s okay. I’ll be quicker on my own.”

He was openly scowling at me, but I supposed we were finished with lunch, so there was no longer any need for him to follow my rules.

“Okay…who are you going on this hike with? Not the lumberjack.”

“No, not the lumberjack.” I lifted a shoulder. “Probably Saoirse.”

“Not alone either, Elise.”

Sharp. He meant it.

I shook my head. “Not alone.”

Probably.

Maybe.

There would for sure be other people on the trails.

He studied me for a drawn-out moment. My cheeks heated. His gaze traced over my face, lingering on the hottest parts.

“All right. Thank you for joining me for lunch.” He stepped forward but didn’t reach out to touch me. Instead, he leaned in, putting his mouth near my ear. “I’m really fucking glad you’re back.”

I turned my head, and our cheeks brushed. We both went still. I sucked in a breath. He exhaled warm air onto my skin.

“Me too, Westie.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Goddamn Miles.”

“Go to work, Mr. Aldrich.”

“Don’t call me that, Elise.”

He pulled back, but only far enough for me to see his fiery hazel eyes.

My lips tipped.

His gaze fell to my mouth.

My stomach tied itself in a knot.

Oh jeez.

“Good day, grumpy boss,” I whispered.

His eyes flicked back to mine. “It’s been a great day, sweet Elise.”

This man couldn’t play fair if he tried.