Chapter Twelve

Greg pushed his plate away and gave a sigh of contentment. He leaned back and stretched out his long legs. Dropping his hand to rub Jack behind the ears, he said, “So no more flowers from your secret admirer, huh?”

Ginger looked at him, but his gaze stayed glued on Jack. She shrugged, took a last drink of her milk, and got up to throw the paper plates away. “No. And I threw the others out.” She emphasized her comment by stuffing the plates in the trash with more force than was necessary. She started to mention the strange coincidence about finding the florist ticket in her neighbor’s yard, but thought better of it. Greg hadn’t brought up the subject of her neighbor again, and she didn’t want to start another discussion on how she shouldn’t trust people so easily.

She brought out a bag of chocolate chip cookies from the dishwasher and sat back down at the table. She had basically forgotten about the flowers, and she hated that Greg had brought up the subject of Todd, tarnishing the relaxed atmosphere with that scumbag’s name. But her relationship with Todd wasn’t a secret anymore. She opened the bag of cookies and scooted them toward him.

He leaned forward and reached for a cookie. “You’re not going to have to worry about Todd Greene anymore. In fact, if he calls again and I’m here, just hand me the phone. And if he doesn’t take the hint, I’ll make a trip to California to explain the situation in detail.”

She raised her head. He wasn’t teasing. He really would go to those lengths if necessary. Warmed by his thoughtfulness, she nevertheless had no intention of having him fight her battles for her.

“I can take care of Todd myself, but thank you for the support. I’m not afraid of him. He’s just playing a game, which he’ll tire of soon.”

He shook his head. “You can’t know that for sure, Ginger. But even if you’re right and he is just playing some sick game, then it’s borderline harassment, and you shouldn’t have to put up with it.”

She placed her hand on his arm. “I appreciate your concern, Greg, I really do. But I’d like to change the subject. Todd is a blemish on my past, a memory I would rather forget. The more we talk about him, the more I’m reminded of what a stupid mistake I made, among many others.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. She had to make him understand her feelings about relationships without making it appear as if she were asking for sympathy or pity. “Every knight in shining armor who I’ve fallen for has turned out to be a fraud. They’ve had hidden agendas, or they’ve lied to me, or they’ve flat out used me.” Her lips tightened. “I don’t have a good track record for picking men who genuinely care about me. That’s why I decided to move to Texas and make a fresh start. I’m focusing on me, my independence, my goals, and my future. I’m certainly not going to put myself in a position to be sidetracked or humiliated by Mr. Wrong again.”

He popped a cookie in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Finally, he looked at her. “I’m a little confused.” His voice had cooled by several degrees. “That little episode between us a moment ago—is that what you would call being sidetracked?”

Heat rose in her face, but she couldn’t avoid the question. He deserved better than that. She just prayed their friendship would survive her answer.

“No,” she said softly. “I’d call that amazing.” She looked at him, hoping he would see the honesty in her eyes. “That was not a distraction. It was a way to get rid of the distraction.” Her gaze faltered, and she glanced down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “You are probably the best thing that’s happened to me since I left California. No, scratch that,” she said, taking a deep breath. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. And I don’t want to lose your friendship. That’s why I…um, attacked you.”

Her nose wrinkled as her face scrunched up in a display of embarrassment. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something, but he just sat there with a bemused look on his face. She was taking a big risk opening up to him like this, but the alternative was to keep hiding her past from him. Friends didn’t do that to each other. Not good friends anyway, and she meant what she had told him. He really was the best thing to come into her life in a very long time.

Greg Tucker was a good man, and she sincerely wanted to hold on to his friendship. Him being her boss was just plain bad luck.

He shook his head as if to clear out cobwebs. “If your goal was to confuse me, then you’ve done an admirable job,” he said with a laugh, his dark eyes dancing. “You attacked me—your words, not mine—because you don’t want to lose my friendship?”

“Exactly.”

He leaned forward and reached for her hands with a big grin on his face. “I’m still confused, but if that’s how you define friendship, then I’m all for it. In fact, why don’t we go discuss our friendship in more detail…like maybe in the bedroom?”

She pushed his hands away and frowned. “This isn’t funny! You know what I mean, and you’re purposely misconstruing it.”

“I honestly don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Ginger. Maybe I’m just dense, but you’re going to have to explain it better than you have.”

She gave a gusty sigh and crossed her arms. “Okay, I’ll spell it out. I made a decision when I came to Texas that I was not going to get involved in any kind of romantic relationship. Then you came along, and you were so nice and friendly, and I really enjoyed being with you.” She stood and began to pace. “I was worried I was starting to think of you as more than just a friend, though. I was getting tired of this…awareness thing whenever you were close, so I figured we’d better have sex to get it over with and save the friendship.” She turned and headed for the refrigerator. “Do you want a beer?”

She’d said it. It had been hard, but she’d said what needed to be said. Now they could get back to the casual, fun relationship she wanted with him. She pulled two beers from the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle opener. In a perfect world the subject would be closed now, and they could move on. But it wasn’t a perfect world.

He stood just as she turned back toward the table. He approached her slowly, and her eyes grew wide. She took a few steps back until her backside brushed up against the countertop.

“Would you rather have a soda?” she asked, her voice pitched a little too high.

He ignored her. His eyes were darker than normal, and he wasn’t smiling. When he got close to her, he planted both his hands on the counter on either side of her. His voice, when he spoke, was whisper-soft and as strong as steel. “My friends and I engage in a lot of activities, but having sex isn’t one of them.”

She swallowed when his head dropped and his warm, moist lips pressed against the side of her neck. She clutched the two beer bottles for dear life, not even noticing the cold, wet stain spreading across the front of her top.

His mouth traveled up her neck to right below her ear and then trailed to her chin. “One person doesn’t get to call all the shots in a friendship,” he murmured lazily. “It’s a give-and-take situation just like any other successful relationship.”

His mouth reached the corner of her lips, and her knees almost buckled. Desire as hot as molten lava shot through her. His mouth was the only thing touching her, but she knew how his strong, sinewy body felt pressed close to hers, how his arms felt wrapped around her, and how his mouth felt when devouring hers. Her eyes drifted closed, and she almost whimpered in her struggle to keep from begging him to take her right here on the kitchen floor.

He shifted slightly, and she prepared herself for the kiss she was sure was coming. It would be explosive and earth-shattering, just as it had been before. But when after several seconds nothing happened, she raised her eyes. He was looking at her, a satisfied expression on his face.

“I do value your friendship, Ginger. You’re a very special woman, and I’m glad you came into my life. I’m not particularly happy that sex won’t be a part of our relationship, but I’m glad you warned me. I don’t want to make a fool of myself by trying to seduce you when you so obviously don’t want it.” He took one of the beers from her and raised it to his mouth before placing it on the counter. “Get some rest now, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” With that parting remark, he turned and left.

Ginger waited until she heard the front door close before she walked over to the table and sank into one of the chairs. Her hand was shaking as she raised it to take a drink from her beer and then placed the cold bottle against her flushed cheek.

She might have to rethink this whole friendship thing.

****

All three brothers were at the office when Ginger pulled into the parking lot the next morning. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks as she squared her shoulders and headed for the front door. With Justin and Steve acting as unwitting buffers, she wouldn’t have to navigate her way around any awkward moments with Greg.

There would come a time when she would have to face Greg alone, but at least it wouldn’t be today. She knew a dare when she heard one, and his subtle challenge last night regarding her decision to move forward as friends—without benefits—warned her he wasn’t in agreement. A battle was going to erupt in the near future, and she was confident she wouldn’t win right now. She wasn’t up to it. Not while her body still tingled from the night before.

She put her purse on her desk and headed for the break room. Justin and Greg were sitting at the table, and Steve stood leaning against the cabinets.

“Good morning,” she said brightly, her greeting encompassing them all, but her gaze skipped over Greg.

“Good morning,” Steve replied, reaching for a cup from the cabinet and handing it to her. “You’re cheerful this morning. I can only assume that means you had a great evening last night.”

She almost dropped the coffee cup. Greg coughed as heat rose in her face. Quickly, she turned her back and prepared her coffee. Steve didn’t know just how right he was…

“I hope you stay just as cheerful after we ask you for a favor,” Justin drawled. “Clyde McDaniel is coming by to discuss his job. We have to tie up some loose ends, and he is very easily distracted. In past meetings, we’ve been in deep discussions on the specifics of a job when he’s gotten up to refill his coffee. We get in the break room, and he starts to talk about subjects totally unrelated, and we’ve almost had to physically drag him back into the conference room. So”—his voice took on a pleading tone—“would you mind playing as a sort of hostess for the meeting?”

“Ah,” she said with a grin. “You want me to pop in every so often and fill coffee cups or bring in soda and water, don’t you? Basically make sure Mr. McDaniel doesn’t need to get out of his seat?”

Steve sighed. “Exactly. I’m going to go get an assortment of doughnuts to go with the coffee. Would you mind being the ‘hostess with the mostest’ this morning?”

“I think you guys have been intimidated by the extreme women’s liberation stuff. Of course, I don’t mind.” She was glad she had taken extra care while dressing this morning. Initially, it had been to boost her self-confidence when she had to face Greg, but now the black slacks and deep red blouse would add a sense of professionalism when she greeted Mr. McDaniel. “What time is the meeting?”

“In an hour. Clyde is one of our best clients, and he’s a terrific man. He just has more free time on his hands than we do, and we’ve all got other things to accomplish today.”

She walked toward the door. “No problem. I’m happy to help.” When she reached the doorway, she turned and looked at them. “Besides, if you ever try to fire me, I can blackmail you for having made me do something so demeaning.”

She was halfway to her desk before she finally heard the nervous laughter.

Approximately an hour later, Ginger was under her desk—literally—when she heard the front door open. She was on her hands and knees attempting to plug in a new USB cord to the back of her computer, trying not to get tangled up in the myriad cords lying in a heap on the floor along the wall. How her predecessor had kept from killing herself, she would never know.

“I’ll be right with you,” she called out with a grunt. Finally, the cord slid into the computer slot. She scooted backward until her head cleared the edge of her desk.

Clyde McDaniel was peering over at her, his eyes dancing.

“I’m sorry.” She straightened her blouse. “Usually I’m sitting down when I greet people. How are you, Clyde?”

“I’m well, thank you.” He wore a green polo shirt tucked into jeans, and an amused smile crossed his face.

She couldn’t stop her own smile at having been caught in such an awkward position.

“Do the Tuckers usually have their beautiful assistant work on electrical problems?”

She chuckled and raised a hand to smooth her hair. “No, that was my own initiative. And it wasn’t electrical. It was computer related.”

“But she could fix electrical problems if she wanted to,” Greg said as he entered the reception area and held out his hand. “Believe me, there’s nothing this woman can’t handle.”

Clyde grasped Greg’s hand. “I need to warn you, Greg. I’m going to think of a way to steal this young woman away from Tucker Construction. She’d definitely brighten up my offices.”

“Fat chance.” Greg laughed easily. “We plan to keep Ginger for a very long time. You go find your own superwoman.”

Ginger narrowed her eyes. “You two are full of it. Go on back to the conference room and do something productive. I’ll bring in some coffee. How do you take yours, Clyde?”

Clyde McDaniel burst into laughter. “I see who the real boss is around here. Just black, dear.”

Greg gave Clyde a pat on the back and steered him down the hall. Ginger bit her lip to keep from laughing at Clyde’s bright green tennis shoes. The man was adorable and had a wonderful sense of humor. She already liked him considerably. And for a reason that was impossible to explain, it made her proud the men she worked for were able to form strong friendships with their clients. It spoke of a trust that had been cultivated through business transactions, and proved to her she was working for honorable men.

As the men settled down to work, she moved quietly between them, handing out cups filled with fresh coffee. She placed the tray of doughnuts in the middle of the table with a stack of napkins, careful to avoid the blueprints, contracts, and notepads scattered about. It was a good thing her wrist was back to normal. She could only imagine the men jumping up in pain as hot coffee splashed onto their laps from her not being able to properly manage the coffee pot.

She sat down at her desk, and almost immediately the front door opened. Her mouth dropped open. A delivery man walked toward her, carrying a beautiful blue-green ceramic vase filled with at least two dozen deep red roses.

“Ginger Carmichael?” he asked.

She could only nod as he placed the vase on her desk.

“Sign here, please.”

She did as he asked, not sure if her signature was legible because she couldn’t take her gaze off the roses. Belatedly she said thank you when she heard the door close. The roses were gorgeous, dramatic, and three-quarters of the way open. It was going to kill her to throw these away. Her hand shook as she reached for the card. Todd not only knew where she lived; he also knew where she worked.

BFF!

What in the world…? Then suddenly the message became clear. Her eyes opened wide, and she reached out a trembling hand to one of the roses. Best friends, forever! The roses were from Greg.

She sat quietly for a moment, overwhelmed by the sweet gesture. Once again she had misread Greg. He wasn’t challenging her decision to remain friends. These roses meant he understood her need to not let their friendship develop into anything further. He knew she cared for him—as a friend—and now she knew, without any doubt, he cared for her, too.

He knew her most private secrets, but he would honor her desire to keep them private. She didn’t have to hide anything from him because she could trust him. And trust wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with.

She placed the small card in her purse where she would take it home and put it in the box she kept of her special treasures. If a small part of her mourned that she would never again experience the extraordinary intimacy she’d shared with Greg last night, then she would just have to accept it. His friendship was far too important to jeopardize it by combining it with a sexual relationship.

She would never forget that one special night, though. A sigh escaped her lips as she moved the vase to the corner of her desk. This was not the time or place to be analyzing what was and what could have been.

A couple of hours later, Ginger crossed the final name off the list of city inspectors and engineers she had scheduled to examine the progress on several of their projects. She leaned back in her chair and stretched. It should be time for another round of coffee in the conference room. The last time she had gone in to refill cups and hand out bottled water, she had gotten the impression the meeting was progressing in a productive manner. She stood, and at that moment the conference room door opened. From the smiles and satisfied expressions on all their faces, it appeared everything had indeed gone well.

Clyde was saying something to Justin when he stopped and stared. “Holy moly!” he exclaimed. “Someone must really love you.”

She didn’t dare look at Greg. “No, they’re from a friend.” She tried to smile naturally.

“Some friend,” Steve commented as he walked over and stuck his nose in the roses. “I think you may be reading this guy all wrong. Nobody sends a friend flowers like these.”

Ducking her head, she picked up several file folders from her desk. Unobtrusively she stole a quick glance at Greg and almost dropped the folders. He was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, looking at her with a big grin on his face. The skunk was actually enjoying this! He knew she would never admit the roses were from him, and he was having a good time watching her squirm.

She narrowed her eyes slightly, sending a clear message. Payback’s a bitch.

She politely declined an invitation to lunch, stating she had errands she needed to run. Greg was the last one to leave the office, and he leaned back in the doorway and whispered, “Errands, my foot. You’re just a chicken. You’re afraid if you spend too much time with me, you’re going to want to jump my bones again.”

Her mouth fell open as she stared at him. “Of all the—”

But he was already out the door.