That was another thing about Marco. Other than me, he hadn’t hired a manager. As the owner, I’d expected him to. The last general manager had left shortly before Ian did, and as employees we’d been doing our best to handle everything on our own. But Marco seemed to need to cover all the contingencies himself, to be personally involved with every aspect of the business.
Maybe it was because he was running more than just Organic Eats out of this office. His other side gig demanded his attention, too. It also demanded mine. Much of my time was spent recording incoming and outgoing transactions for this other business and making everything balance at the end of each week. The work challenged me, but I enjoyed doing it.
It made me feel like I could aspire to be more than what I had been. And the fact that I was able to be in Marco’s presence to do it sweetened the deal.
But now that I knew what his touch could do to me, I felt conflicted.
I felt like my body had snuck onto some insane amusement ride without my permission. Not a Ferris wheel or carousel either. The earth had dropped out from under me without warning, and I’d been left to flail in the wind. It would’ve been so easy to keep going until we wound up naked in the floor.
Too easy.
An awareness of what I’d done—what we’d done—settled over me. It terrified me to admit that even though I’d stopped him, part of me had been tempted to let him keep going. A significant part.
Like the last time, I’d felt compelled to kiss him. He was just so drop-dead gorgeous I hadn’t been able to resist. For the first time ever, I understood what all the fuss was about when other women talked about sex. When he’d sucked my lip into his mouth and stroked my breast, I’d nearly come unglued, my body behaving in ways I couldn’t have predicted if I’d tried.
I attempted to refasten my bra, but I wasn’t having much luck. My mind was too shattered, and my hands wouldn’t quit shaking. Yet, I’d wanted him to do what he did. Yearned for it. At least until my brain finally reengaged my common sense.
What did this mean about me? Was I weak for initiating that kiss? Was I a bad girl for liking the way he’d kissed me back? Was I a slut for letting him touch and fondle me like that?
I must be. I must be all of that. All of that and more.
A ball of shame began to grow in the space between my stomach and chest. Nothing could ever excuse my lascivious behavior. How could I face my boss after this? Or my parents or brother?
“Here, let me help,” Marco said, breaking into my self-flagellation. When he came around my back and put his hands on my spine, I flinched. “Hey,” he laid his hands on my elbows instead and whispered into my ear from behind me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Let me help put your clothing back together.”
I took a deep breath and felt him re-hook my bra. Then, he ballooned my loose-fitting t-shirt out to straighten it, his rapid reflexes catching something that fell out from the front.
“Pepper spray,” he said, sounding bemused. “Were you going to mace me, Kelly?”
“Do you get maced often?” I asked him tremulously without meeting his eye. I may never be able to meet his eye again, and yet, I was making lame jokes. What was wrong with me? Good thing he chuckled rather than taking offense.
“It’s been at least a day or two since that happened.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you. Again.”
In a motion similar to what he’d done a few minutes before I’d kissed him, he cupped my chin, nudging it upwards until my gaze met his. “I’m glad you did.”
“But I… I shouldn’t have. Especially now that I know…” I trailed off.
“Know what, Kelly?”
“That you’re such an amazing kisser.” I’d hadn’t meant for this to come out as an accusation, but it did. Still, he took it in stride. In fact, those delectable lips of his curved mischievously.
“Nice to know some things haven’t changed.”
“I almost… I almost let you…” My mouth kept getting ahead of my brain, letting my words out before I could filter them.
“Yeah,” he sighed out, not looking as mischievous as he had. “It’s probably best that we brought everything to a halt when we did.”
“I know why I wanted to stop, but what reason do you have?” My brain was still on vacation. If I could’ve kicked that brain to make it shut up, I would’ve.
“Remember that first day we met?”
“Yes.”
“My burns?”
“Yes,” I said again. It’d been a month and a half since then. “Aren’t they better now?”