Page 19 of Her Irish Boss

Great. Just awesome. She pulled a box of toilet paper from the corner and propped open the door. She'd tell Brogan later about the light after she got a stack of napkins to Katie, who was on silverware rolling duty for the time being. It kept Selena from having to sit with Trey. He was nice, but he constantly wanted to talk about video games and how many points he’d scored.

She squeezed past the shelf with the condiments and to the corner. Paper towels and more toilet paper. She didn't blame whoever did the ordering. It was hell when the bathroom ran out of TP.

The light vanished, and the door shut with a solidbam.

Crap. Some good employee who had no clue she stood in the back corner just closed the door. Feeling with her hands, she grabbed the one box of napkins she'd spotted. Now, to make it back out.

Her shoulder bumped the tall shelves. She reached out, steadying it. The entire puzzle of boxes would crash down on her if she weren't careful, burying her under paper products and ketchup until someone noticed her missing.

She tripped over the box of toilet paper she'd pulled out and whoever closed the door had shoved back in, stumbling forward.

The door opened as she reached to brace herself on the table left of the door. Her legs stumbled over a few smaller boxes, and she ducked trying to avoid the shelf she knew lined the wall at head height.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders, keeping her from face planting into the box of squeeze packets of hot sauce she recognized the second before the door shut again, leaving them in darkness.

“Are you alright?”

Her breath lodged in her throat. Chill bumps ran over her skin from Brogan's rich voice in the dark. The heat from his body and the smell that floated around his office after he showered in the morning enveloped her.

She leaned back against him to keep from knocking her head on the overhead shelf. His stiff body held still.

“I'd rather not clean up whatever is in these boxes stacked around us.” She shifted to the side, her hand touching hard muscle along his waist for balance.

He hadn't released her shoulder. His fingers tightened.

But she was stuck halfway under a shelf, her feet feeling like she was about to lose a game of Twister. “Without a light, I'm not sure how to untangle myself without the entire mountain of boxes crashing down on us.”

Slowly, his hands slid down from her shoulders until they gripped her waist. “I'll pick you up,” he said, pulling her closer until their bodies touched for the first time.

Neither one of them moved for a long second.

His chest rose with a deep breath like he might use it to heft her out of the corner. But he didn't do anything.

“Let me set the napkins down.” She tried to toss them toward the door, but they hit another box, and it fell. Along with two more. “Sorry. I'll clean it up.”

“Hold onto my shoulders, and I'll pick you up and out.”

She did as he asked but misjudged in the complete darkness. Her hands landed on the top of his chest, and since she'd already established her body didn't listen to her rational mind, they slid along his body until they gripped his shoulders.

Again, he didn't move. If there had been any daylight, not an ounce of it would shine between the tight way they held onto each other. Her fingertips brushed across the backof his neck, loving the feel of his hair. In the dark, it didn't seem so wrong for him to hold her. No rules. No lines designating designer suits on one side and second-hand stores on the other.

“Ready?” His voice was soft, deep.

She was, but probably not for the same thing. She nodded and then rolled her eyes in the dark. “Yes.”

He picked her up and turned, setting her down at his feet. His hands never strayed from her waist, but he didn't release her immediately. She threaded her fingers through the back of his hair. “Brogan?” His name sounded breathless from her lips.

His hands didn't shift, but his thumbs skimmed along the bottom edge of her ribcage.

She needed him to say something. Anything. What did he think of her? She'd practically latched onto him at this point.

Did he think she did this to work her way up in the company or something? She half-laughed. Only if he was an idiot.

“What's so funny?”

“Do you think I did this on purpose?”

“How would you have known I would come by and close the door?” His voice held a touch of suspicion that riled her up. He straightened and put a few inches between their bodies. The man didn't have a shred of humor in his personality, but she wouldn't let him get to her. Brogan needed something light and happy in his life.

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