Man Crush Monday Read online

  “Wait!” Jared calls behind me.

  I wave dismissively over my shoulder, already rushing through the carriage. “I’ll speak to you later!” I call back, fighting to get through the crowds.

  I apologise over and over as people struggle to allow space to let me pass. I groan inwardly and continue to fight my way through the sea of people who are now complaining that the doors won’t open.

  When I finally make it to the other end of the train, my fingers fumble on the keypad, struggling to input the code to gain access to the staff area because my fingers are trembling a little. When I finally fall into the room, I slam my hand down on the release and breathe a sigh of relief as a little cheer goes up behind me, and people stream out of the train in their droves.

  “Amy?” my walkie summons again.

  I pluck it from my belt and raise it to my still-tingling lips. “Bert, I’m here, sorry. I got pinned at the wrong end of the train. It’s so busy.”

  I feel a little bad for lying. Bert, the train driver, is lovely. He’s an older man, nearing his retirement, and he has always treated me as if I were one of his four daughters he dotes on. If he knew I was at the back of the train, snogging my boyfriend like a lovesick teenager, I could only imagine the disapproving scowl he would subject me to.

  “Oh, okay, love. I thought there was a problem or something. You had me worried about you for a second there,” he replies.

  “No, sorry about that.” I lean against the wall and put a hand to my heart, feeling it stutter against my palm as I smile to myself. Best workday ever.

  fourteen

  Later that night, when I open the door to Jared and he jokingly announces, “Honey, I’m home!” I can’t help my squeal of happiness as I launch myself at him, barely giving him enough time to drop what he’s holding and catch me before we crash against the wall with a loud thump that’s sure to make the neighbours think someone has just been murdered.

  His mouth claims mine in a scorching hot kiss that I feel all the way down to my toes.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” I mumble against his mouth. “I’ve been thinking about you all day!”

  That is the damn truth. Every spare second, and even seconds that weren’t spare where I should have been concentrating on something else, I thought about him today. That little occurrence on the train this morning had kick-started my hormones and left me on edge all day. It has been a long few hours, made worse by the fact that Jared usually doesn’t come round until about seven in the evenings because he likes to go home after work to shower and change and pick up his overnight bag and a fresh set of clothes for work the following day. We’ve wasted precious make-out hours.

  “Oh, yeah?” Jared replies, kissing at my neck as my hands tangle into the back of his hair.

  “Just shut up and get your kit off already,” I order.

  “Easy there, sex pest. I’ve got something for you first.”

  He chuckles darkly at my growled protest, and instead of doing what I suggested, he holds me tightly against him with one arm and crouches, picking up his overnight bag from the floor before walking us both into the lounge. He sets his bag down on the messy coffee table and unzips it with one hand. I pull back, unwrapping myself from around him and wobbling awkwardly as he sets me back on my feet. When he finally works the items from his bag and I see what he’s brought, my heart stutters in my chest.

  “Happy almost anniversary,” he says, offering me the bunch of pink roses and a small package wrapped in purple tissue paper. “I thought it was okay to give you these now. I know, technically, it’s not our four-week dateversary until tomorrow, but seeing as I’ll be leaving before you wake up and I am working late tomorrow night, I figured I’d give it to you now.”

  I press my lips together as a wave of emotion washes over me. Jared Stone is the sweetest thing ever. So thoughtful and adorable. I am one lucky, punching-above-my-weight, spoiled girl. I let out a content, happy sigh as my eyes meet his. My heart is fit to bursting, my stomach fluttering. He holds out the items, and I take the flowers, my finger brushing over the soft petals of one of the roses as I chew on my lip, fighting tears.

  Four weeks. Four perfect weeks since our first date. I am more in love with him now than ever.

  “Thank you,” I croak around the lump in my throat. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

  That isn’t usually a guy thing, remembering stuff like when a first date was.

  He raises one eyebrow and cups one hand around the back of my head, pulling me closer so I’m forced to go onto my tiptoes as his mouth covers mine. My body softens against his as I smile against his lips.

  When he pulls back, he holds out the small package, and I eagerly tear it open, seeing a bottle of my favourite perfume.

  My mouth drops open. “How did you know?”

  He shrugs, flopping back onto the sofa, raising one arm in clear invitation for me to sit with him. “Noticed you were running low and took a photo of the bottle, so I could find the right one.”

  “Bloody adorable,” I congratulate. And instead of sitting with him in the offered spot, I shake my head. “I have something for you too. One sec.”

  Before he can say anything, I rush to my bedroom and go to the bottom of my wardrobe, pulling out the striped maroon-and-blue tie I purchased for him that I knew would go perfectly with his three-piece blue suit I loved. Then, an idea hits me, and instead of giving it to him in the gift-wrapped bag I bought, I decide to re-enact the scene from Pretty Woman. I strip out of my clothes, knot it around my neck, and walk back out to him, butt naked.

  As his eyes widen in shock and then narrow in appreciation, turning dark and predatory, I can tell he likes his gift.

  “Here you go.” I set a cup of tea down on the table in front of him.

  Jared flashes me a grateful smile. “Thanks. Though after that, maybe I should have a sports drink to rehydrate and replenish my electrolytes,” he jokes, gripping hold of my waist and pulling me down onto his lap, kissing me as he toys with the edge of his T-shirt I’m wearing, his fingers teasing at my thigh.

  Wrapping my arm around his neck, I wriggle to get myself more comfortable as I reach for the TV remote. “I’ll buy you some next time I go shopping.” Opening Netflix, I select the next episode of Stranger Things.

  “Wait, before you put that on,” he says, “I wanted to talk to you but got distracted by all the skin and tie sexiness.” He smirks at me, and I feel a blush creep onto my cheeks. “I was wondering if—not this Friday, but next Friday—would you accompany me to a work function?”

  “A work function?”

  He nods. “Yeah, I told them I wasn’t going originally, but I found out today that some smart-arse in the higher management has now decided to make the function mandatory for my department, good for morale and team bonding apparently.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to go, but I don’t have a choice now. It’s going to be incredibly awkward and boring.”

  “Incredibly awkward and boring. You’re really selling it to me,” I joke, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Won’t all your work friends be there? Can’t you hang out with them?”

  He scrunches his nose and snorts. “Amy, I’m the boss. My team all hates me. When I was brought over from another company last year, I made a lot of changes, got rid of some people who were useless at their jobs, and changed a lot of the outdated practices they were used to. None of that made me very popular there. They think I don’t know that they all call me Iceman and Stone Heart behind my back, but I do. It comes with the territory. No one likes being told what to do by a ‘jumped-up know-it-all,’ or so I’ve heard.” He does air quotes around the jumped-up bit and shrugs casually. He doesn’t seem too bothered by their opinions.

  I raise one eyebrow, my hackles rising as my instinct is to find these people and junk-punch them. “They call you Iceman?” I inquire. He nods, and I purse my lips, trying to make the best of it. “You know, maybe that’s not a bad thing. Iceman from Top Gun was pretty damn cool and super hot.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “No. More like, I’m cold as hell and hard as ice. Or they play on my surname and say I have a stone where my heart should be.”

  He clearly isn’t bothered, but I am.

  “Oh.” I shoot him a sad smile and clutch him closer to me. Jared isn’t like that at all though. How could anyone hate him? “And are you cold as ice and just as hard when you’re at work? What kind of boss are you?”

  He shrugs, settling himself at my side, propping himself up on one elbow. “I don’t think I am. I’m a bit particular, I suppose. I like things done in a certain way, and I like things done right the first time. And if I have to ask for something twice, then you’ve not done a good job in my opinion.”

  I smile as realisation dawns on me. Jared—the perfectionist, OCD, tailored suit–wearing professional—is a hard-arse boss.

  “Oh!” I raise one eyebrow.

  He grins and rolls his eyes as he realises what he just said. “Okay, yeah, maybe I am a little hard to please.”

  I bite my lip and chuckle.

  He raises one eyebrow in question. “So … you’ll come with me? It’s a dinner dance at a posh hotel.” He sticks out his bottom lip and pouts pleadingly.

  Posh. I don’t like that word. I wince. “Posh meaning like cocktail dresses and black tie? I don’t think I even have anything to wear.” My mind flicks to my wardrobe, considering my options. I definitely don’t have anything suitable.

  Jared pulls me closer; his body pressing against mine is almost too distracting for me to stay on track, but I force myself to. “Please? I’ll buy you something if you don’t. Please? I hate going to these things. It will make it almost bearable if you come with me. I can’t think of anything worse than socialising with my subordinates.”

  I burst out laughing. “If you call them subordinates, I’m not surprised they hate you.”

  He laughs too, dipping his head, kissing me lightly. “Come with me, please? Save me from the boring night where I’m forced to make polite small talk with people who hate my guts. Please, baby?” he whispers against my lips, his hot breath tickling my skin, and I’m done for.

  He could ask me for the moon, and I’d give it to him if I could.

  “Okay.” I nod in agreement. When he grins in response, I reach up and press my palm against his cheek. “I really like it when you smile this big. You get these little crinkles at the corners of your eyes. They’re sexy as hell.” I rub my thumb over the creases and let out a little dreamy sigh.

  He snorts a laugh, his eyes twinkling as he leans over me, just staring down at my face. “Amy, at the risk of scaring you away, I just want to say that I’m well on my way to falling in love with you. You know that, right?” A muscle in his jaw tightens as he watches for my reaction.

  I grin sheepishly, my insides glowing with pleasure at his words. He is falling in love with me? I didn’t know that. I hoped he was feeling this connection growing between us like I was, but I didn’t know. I’m secretly thrilled at this revelation.

  I want to scream and whoop in celebration, but instead, I force myself to remain calm and collected as I reply, “Well, that’s very nice to hear, but I’m not going to say it back. If I do, it’ll just sound like I’m copying you.”

  His shoulders lose some of their tenseness as he turns his head and plants a little kiss on my palm. “I don’t mind you copying me.”

  He eagerly looks up at me, but I shake my head.

  “I’m not going to; I like to be original. So, instead, I’ll just say … I love your eye crinkles.”

  He bursts out laughing; it’s loud and free, and it makes my tummy flutter with pleasure. “You’re so wonderfully weird.”

  I smile and chew on my lip. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

  My insides are simmering with excitement, his words playing over and over in my head.

  “I’m well on my way to falling in love with you.”

  “As it was intended,” he replies, leaning in and kissing me before effortlessly manoeuvring my body so he’s spooning me from behind, his arm under my head, his other wrapped securely around me, his fingers drawing a little pattern on my bare stomach, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

  As he reaches for the remote and presses play on the next episode, I snuggle back against him, blissfully happy. My hand catches his, and our fingers interlace as I pull his hand up to my mouth and kiss his knuckles.

  As the opening sequence music plays, I smile and decide to throw him a bone. “Just so you know, I’m well on my way to falling in love with you too,” I admit. That doesn’t even come close to how I feel though.

  I feel him grin against the back of my neck, and his hold on me tightens, pulling me closer to him as he throws his leg over mine, cloaking me in a warm Jared sandwich of luscious skin. He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t need him to. How firmly he’s holding me says it all.

  fifteen

  “I’m still not convinced this is a good idea,” I mutter. My stomach aches from nerves, and I look up at my childhood home, my brain whirling through all the things that could go wrong.

  Jared laughs and advances on me, his eyes locked on mine as his hands come up to cup my neck, tilting my head back, forcing me to look up at him. “Of course it’s a good idea; it was mine,” he rebuts playfully as his head dips and his mouth captures mine in a soft kiss that makes my heart sing.

  My arms instinctively grip his waist as he gently eases me against the side of his car, leaning into me, his hard body pressed against the length of mine.

  I groan and close my eyes. “My nanna is going to eat you alive.”

  “You underestimate me,” he replies.

  I shake my head. “You underestimate her.”

  Jared came up with this not-so-brilliant plan during the week. As next weekend is both his work dinner dance and his dad’s birthday party, I will be meeting everyone who is important in his life over the space of two days. Because of that, he thinks it is only fair that he meet my mum and nan. I tried to talk him out of it—I definitely want to put that off as long as possible—but he has been adamant and worked on me all week until I agreed.

  He shrugs, playing with a lock of my hair, twirling it around his finger this way and that. His eyes are latched on mine. They’re dizzying, but then I realise it’s because I’ve forgotten to breathe again. He does this to me a lot. One day, I’ll die from it, just randomly keel over because he’s mesmerised me so much that my body has completely forgotten basic survival function.

  “It’ll be fine. I met Heather and did all right there; she was probably the one I was most worried about meeting.”

  My hand strokes against his coat, toying with one of the buttons. He did better than all right with them. They love him. Tim and Jared even exchanged numbers at the end of the night and are planning on going to watch a football match together in a couple of weeks, as they both support Cambridge United.

  “It’s not that I don’t think you’ll do all right; I know you’ll do great. They’ll love you; who wouldn’t?” My stomach gives another nervous twist. “It’s just … my family is a bit …” I search for the correct word to describe them, but nothing comes to mind, so I groan and drop my head onto his chest, letting his smell fill my lungs. “I just don’t want you taking one look at them and thinking, Oh, so that’s what Amy will be like in thirty or fifty years, and run screaming for the hills.”

  He chuckles, and it rumbles through his chest. “I won’t run, trust me.”

  And for some reason, I do. “You’re so cluelessly cute.”

  He smiles, and my heart races in my chest.

  Jeez, that smile. I can’t contain my happy sigh.

  With one finger, he traces the line of my cheek, leaving behind a burning trail. “Amy, I don’t think you realise how utterly crazy I am about you,” he whispers, leaning in, brushing his nose up the side of mine. “You’re amazing, charming, beautiful, funny, captivating.” He punctuates each compliment with a soft kiss, trailing them from my lips to my ear.

  When he gets there, he nips at my earlobe, and I giggle, unable to mask my happiness.

  He pulls back and smiles down at me, his eyes showing me the truth of his words. He really is crazy about me; I can see it hidden in the depths of his deep amber-coloured pools.

  “I’m crazy about you too,” I admit, gripping fistfuls of his jacket, holding him against me.

  He nods confidently. “I know.” A cocky smirk slips onto his face as he pulls back, taking my hand and nodding towards the house. “Come on then. Let’s go meet the parents.”

  I groan and lead him up the path, towards the back gate. I just have to get through the next couple of hours intact, and then everything will be fine. I just pray they don’t say anything to scare him away; both my mum and nanna can be a bit hard to handle, but together, they are overwhelming.

  Luckily, I had the forethought to make this a short visit. Usually, I stay the night when I come home, just because; otherwise, it seems a long way to come just for a couple of hours. But because Jared is accompanying me this time, I already called ahead and told them we would arrive after lunch and leave in the early evening. Three or four hours are more than enough for a first meeting. Both my nan and mum promised to be on their absolute best behaviour.

  As we make it to the gate, I give his hand a squeeze and reach for the handle. “Okay?” I ask, giving him one last chance to back out.

  We could just go home to my place. I could call with some cholera or explosive diarrhoea excuse and put this off for another week. I must admit, I’m kind of hoping he backs out.

  He huffs out a breath and reaches up, fixing his hair. He fusses with his coat a bit before nodding. The tightness to his jaw and straightness of his back, mixed with the fact that his hand has mine in a death grip, show me he’s nervous.

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