Page 9 of Storm's Embrace

God, she had his insides twisted up like some inexperienced 18-year-old instead of a man at the ripe old age of thirty-eight.

He chuckled into the quiet room. “And doesn’tthatmake me feel like a dirty old man.”

But it was more than just sexual attraction—something he had in spades—drawing him to her. It was everything about her. Who she was deep down inside. She’d come through so much in her young life—accomplished so much—and he couldn’t be prouder of the woman she’d become.

She certainly wasn’t the kid he’d hired anymore. Sure, she’d been twenty-one and already a mother five years ago, but a youngster compared to him at the time. He grimaced. The twelve years separating them hadn’t changed.

It didn’t matter. He still wanted her.

He scrubbed his hands down his face and closed his eyes—grinning at remembering his first glimpse of her. He’d been holding interviews for both his administrative assistant and receptionist.

Calling her in had been a last minute decision after another applicant had cancelled. Miriam’s had been the next resume in the folder. And while her work background hadn’t been too extensive, he’d figured what harm would it do to talk to her about the receptionist’s position. Besides, it was going to be the last interview of the day and he’d had nowhere else to go.

He’d just finished an interview with another well-qualified applicant. But like everyone else he’d spoken to up until that point, she just hadn’t struck him as the right fit. Then he’d walked out of his office and found Miriam sitting in one of the three waiting room chairs.

She’d been a mess, with one leg shaking and her head down, while her long sable brown hair with blonde and red highlights had been falling around her face from a ponytail that was half done up. Not to mention the wet spot spreading over the bottom of her misbuttoned blouse. He’d taken one look at her and thought, not a chance in hell was he hiringheras his receptionist.

Then she’d raised those unique bluish-green eyes up at him, their depths swimming with tears and her creamy smooth skin marred by streaks of mascara. Most people would have stuck to their first impression and let her go when she’d stood to leave. She’d certainly given him the opportunity to tell her, “Thank you, but no thank you.”

But he couldn’t do it. An inexplicable wave of protectiveness had flooded over him and he’d determined she wasn’t going to leave before he’d at least given her the courtesy of talking to her.

So that’s what they’d done—talked.

In fact they’d talked for over an hour—about her daughter, her family, how he liked North Alabama, the best places to eat—everything except the receptionist job. She’d only briefly touched on her divorce, while he’d kept his reasons for relocating to himself. She’d also talked about how close she was to finishing her degree—something he had remembered from reading her limited resume. She had been proud of that—almost as proud as she’d sounded when talking about Zoë.

She’d laughed with that little snort he’d come to look forward to.

And strangely enough, he’d laughed. Which was something he hadn’t done a lot of after losing his wife and son nearly three years before.

But above everything else, he’d liked her. And while she’d lacked experience, he’d known she was just the kind of person he wanted working for him. And while she had been there for the one position, he’d ended up going with his gut by asking her to be his administrative assistant, even though he’d interviewed far more qualified people. It had actually taken him a couple of days to convince her he was serious and that it wasn’t some kind of pity job offer.

Stubborn from the start…

He grinned.

Josie used to say when he went with his gut he was never wrong. He could almost imagine her self-satisfied smile and, “I told you so,” as she gave him a swat on the ass. She’d loved being right, and, as usual, she had been. Miriam had worked harder than she’d needed to and had more than proven he’d made the right decision.

Josie would’ve liked Miriam. Hell, they probably would’ve made good friends.

“Josie…”

He opened his eyes and glanced over at the back of the frame sitting in the center of his large wooden desk holding his favorite photo of her.

“I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

Her picture faced the window, but he didn’t need to see it to know every curve of her soft image—her laughing gray eyes, her hair blowing in the breeze, the few freckles she had sprinkled across her nose.

Her hands resting on the prominent baby bump she used to lovingly stroke over and talk to.

For years he had mourned the loss of his wife and best friend—their son—and the all-consuming passion that had been such a part of their marriage. A marriage that had ended abruptly and violently. But recently he’d been able to look past that night to the warm memories he had of her.

He sat forward and gripped his hands tight together. Matthew’s birthday was in a few weeks, so he would need to make sure Miriam notified the staff they’d have a paid day off. Then he shook his head. What was he thinking? It wouldn’t be necessary for him to remind her. She’d never forgotten the date—not once in the past four years since after that first year when he’d told her about his yearly trip to Franklin, Tennessee.

But this year was going to be different.

When he visited Josie and Matthew’s grave where they were buried together in the little family cemetery on the outskirts of the town they’d called home, he would be going with a renewed hope. Hope that maybe his life was about to change. Hope that maybe Miriam might one day look at him the way he had begun looking at her.

He got up from the couch, went to his desk, and picked up Josie’s picture. “I’m going with my gut, again, sweetheart,” he said, smiling down at her. “I think it’s time.”

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