Oh shit. Icy cold horror douses me, bringing me to my senses. I draw in another shaky breath and run my hand through my hair. This is precisely why I have to keep my distance from Morgan. He has to stay my boss and nothing else.
Because he is lovely. And I’m a monster.
Chapter eight
Morgan
Working from home is lovely. It is comfortable. Convenient. That’s why I’ve done it every day this week. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with wanting to catch glimpses of Ned during the day. Or having the pleasure of hearing his voice drifting through the walls while I’m battling admin tasks.
Nothing to do with that at all. Nope. I’m a grown, sensible man. With responsibilities. I don’t go around behaving like a teenager with their first crush.
I sigh heavily and run my hands over my face. Who am I kidding? I can’t even fool myself with this nonsense. Denying the truth will not help the situation.
What the hell am I going to do? I can’t fall in love. I just can’t. Ned is half my age. He is my employee.
Yes, he is lovely and clever and appreciates good whisky and old films. Yes, he can be delightfully grumpy and assertive. Yes, he is supremely gorgeous.
But I’m sure my feelings are not as innocent as all that. He looks an awful lot like Jennifer. He is wonderful with my kids. He has been here five days a week, in my home, for some of my darkest days. For the whole last year.
He is familiar. Safe. The easy and obvious choice for my broken heart to latch on to. We could fall in love and nothing would be disturbed. The kids would be ecstatic. Ned would simply stay here instead of leaving at night.
It could all be very simple.
And Ned deserves far, far more than that. He should have someone who worships the ground he walks on, for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with dead wives, grieving children and convenience.
Because, as much as my heart wants to protest that I am that person, I can never be certain that I am.
So I need to stop this. I know I do. It is obvious and clear, and as plain as the nose on my face.
I know I need to. But I have no idea how. I don’t even know where to start.
Ned is firmly tangled around my heart and I haven’t a clue how to undo it.
I sigh again and get to my feet. I’m thirsty. A nice cold water will help clear my mind. And if Ned just happens to be in the kitchen cooking dinner for the kids, then that’s simply a happy accident.
As I approach the kitchen, I hear the sound of bubbling water. Pasta? I hope it is spag bol. Ned makes a mean spaghetti bolognese.
I find Ned in the kitchen, looking down at his phone. The playroom is just next door and the kids can be heard happily playing. There is indeed a bubbling pot of water on the hob, and a mound of chopped garlic on the counter.
“Looks like you love garlic as much as you love whiskey,” I remark.
Ned looks up from his phone and grins. Then he chuckles.
“What’s not to love? Garlic is delicious.”
His hazel eyes are twinkling with merriment. I have no idea what is so funny about garlic, but I can’t help grinning back.
I free myself from his gaze and set about getting myself a glass of water, like I was supposed to be doing. I watch Ned out of the corner of my eye. His attention drops back to his phone and his shoulders tense. He seems a little stressed. It is on the tip of my tongue to ask him what’s wrong. But it is none of my business.
His personal life is his own. He is my employee, not my friend. As much as that hurts.
I glug down my glass of water, and the coldness is refreshing. It is like a reset for my rambling thoughts.
I look around and find that Ned has wandered over to the window and poked his head through the slitted blinds. I have no clue what is so interesting about the driveway and front garden. Especially at nighttime. But Ned seems transfixed.
Wait. Is there someone out there?
I walk over to Ned and peer through the gap he has created. If he is spying on someone, I don’t want to give us away by opening the blind wider.
