Page 6 of Dad's Best Friend Boss
Her face becomes pink again, and she does what I say, hooking both arms around my neck. Our faces are just inches away, and it’s all I can do not to lean in to kiss her pouty lips.
Chapter 5
Mila
This is ridiculous.I hold on to Henry reluctantly at first, and then I relax and enjoy the ride. Damn. It’s almost my earlier dream come true, except he isn’t taking me to bed but carrying me to work.
My heart beating a hundred miles, I don’t speak but let myself soak in Henry’s body heat and spicy cologne for the next few minutes until we reach the top of the hill. I let out a breath of relief when I see no one else around. The client hasn’t arrived yet.
“Thanks,” I say to Henry as soon as he carefully places me onto the ground like some delicate chinaware. But he does not let go of me completely. Instead, he wraps an arm around my shoulders as I take a step.
“We can just stay here if you wish,” he says.
I take a few more steps slowly and carefully. “Actually, I think I’m fine,” I say to him. “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t injure myself again.”
He lets go of me but stays close as I keep on walking. “Nice plot,” he says as we inspect the place. “Although inconvenient to get to. Pretty flat on the top.”
A spot close to nature while not far from Downtown LA is hard to find. The lot is large, although it has nothing but weeds, as expected. My breath hitches when I see the breathtaking view in front of me: beyond a few other hilltops, and a vast space packed with houses, is the cityscape of downtown LA under the cerulean sky and silver clouds.
I breathe out an exclamation. “It’s so beautiful!”
Henry doesn’t look impressed. I guess he’s seen better views. “It’ll be an expensive construction,” he says. “We’ll need to build a road first and that’s costly.”
I shrug. “It’s worth it, right?”
“Maybe. Personally, I don’t care for views so much. I’m concerned with the safety issues. Hilltop houses are more susceptible to landslides and earthquakes.”
I pause for a moment. “We can build a good foundation and drainage to prevent these problems,” I say. I’ve heard my dad discuss similar situations with Henry since I was little. Thus, it doesn’t take me long to come up with a solution.
Henry’s lips curve into a smile. “Very good. I like the enthusiasm. I’ve made the right choice hiring John’s daughter.”
My cheeks heat at the praise. “Thanks,” I say.
“But we must let the client know their potential issues upfront. Some of them are idealists who choose not to see the problems.”
“I know.” I nod with an eye roll. “Laying out the problems also strengthens our bargaining power.”
Henry narrows his eyes, and I realize I’m out of line. “I’m sorry,” I apologize.
To my surprise, he smiles again. “It’s okay,” he says in a low voice. “I’ve missed the sassy girl.”
I tremble at the comment. Suddenly, I recall the good old days when I was little. I would joke with Henry, who was as close as my dad to me. He was indulgent to me even though I could be demanding. I have the urge to hug him and kiss him as I used to as a child. No, I want to hold him and kiss him the way I did in my wet dreams. My eyes fall on his firm lips, and I wonder how good they would taste, and I bite my bottom lip.
Henry growls, pulls me to him, and leans in. I haven’t had the time to grasp when our lips meet, and my dream comes true again, for the second time in the day. His lips feel as soft as I’ve imagined, and they brush mine gently and deliberately, although his rapid breathing betrays his urgent needs.
I whimper and wrap my arms around his muscular waist while pressing my thighs against his. I feel his hardness pulsing through the layers of fabric between us, and my own center throbs in response, releasing a stream of wetness.
I’ve nearly forgotten myself in the delicious treat when I hear a dog bark and then a woman’s voice. “Coal, stop it. Wait for me!”
We pull away instantly and turn in the direction of the path. A black dog is dashing toward us, and a second later, a woman’s head emerges on top of the bushes.
I curse silently, annoyed that the fairytale moment between us was short-lived.
“That must be the client,” Henry says while wiping his lip with the back of his hand. “Her name is Laura Smith.”
“You’re fine,” I say to him playfully. “No telltale lipstick.”
I expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. For a moment, his expression is hard to read, and he doesn’t respond to my comment. “Listen, Mila. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. But it won’t happen again,” he says to me. And then he inhales deeply and composes himself, and walks towards the client professionally.
