Teresa Southwick - His By Christmas

“You should eat something first. It’s the most important meal of the day.” He poured coffee from an insulated pitcher into a second mug in front of him. “It’s breakfast. Break fast. Fuel your body to maximize performance.”

It seemed as if he was pretending their difference of opinion had never happened, and that was just fine with her.

“I’d love some coffee. Thanks.” She sat in the club chair to his right.

“Cream? Sugar?” He met her gaze.

“No and no. Black is great.” She took the cup and saucer he held out.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat and ordered a little of everything.”

“That’s getting to be a habit with you.” She was teasing. Sort of.

But this showing his nice side was turning into a disconcerting pattern. She’d prepared herself to deal with the driven workaholic from last night, not this softie who was hard-selling a well-balanced, nutritious meal. This guy made her feel feelings she wasn’t at all comfortable with.

“As habits go,” she said, “it’s not a bad one.”

“Full disclosure. It’s not entirely selfless, either.” He grinned suddenly. “A well-fed employee is a productive one.”

A smiling Cal looked younger, more carefree and less tense. And so handsome she could only stare at him. It was several moments before his words registered and the message was received. Employee. As in he was not going to terminate her. The weight of uncertainty lifted and she smiled back.

“I will be so productive that you won’t be able to keep up with me.”

“Is that a challenge, Miss Walker?” There was a gleam in his eyes now, a spark of competition.

“Absolutely.”

“Then you’re on. Eat up.”

Since he’d ordered a little of everything, she sampled it all. Omelet, eggs Benedict, oatmeal and all the trimmings. But the fruit...mango, papaya and pineapple—yum. They ate in silence.

“So you like Blackwater Lake?” Cal finished the last bite of food and set his empty plate on the coffee table.

“Very much. It’s beautiful.” She met his gaze. “But I already mentioned that. There’s a serenity about it. That sounds mystical and spiritual and I don’t mean to be woo-woo weird, but peacefulness is in the air.”

“That’s because you don’t have family there,” he said drily.

“I wish I did. My parents, brothers and sister all live in Texas. They were not happy when I broke the news about the company headquarters moving.”

“Would it help if I apologized to them and did a PowerPoint presentation to lay out my reasons for relocating?”

“So it wasn’t about being closer to your brothers and sister?”

“My parents are still in Dallas, too. So it wasn’t an easy decision.” Absently he kneaded his left knee, as if the muscles hurt. “There’s still a large dependence on fossil fuels, but renewable energy is the future. It’s my gut feeling that overseeing it from Blackwater Lake is the best way to go.”

She wouldn’t be with Hart Energy much longer and his commitment to its future made her a little sad about that. But that was his dream and she had one of her own.

“I can’t eat another bite.” She set her not quite empty plate on the table beside his. “And it’s time for me to get to work.”

“I left a list of what I need on your desk.” His mouth twitched, the only sign that he was thinking about their disagreement.

She stood and nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”

Moving away from the power of her boss’s aura was a relief, and Justine buried herself in the familiarity of work. Reports, spreadsheets, phone calls and research meant she didn’t have to think about the way a smile transformed his face, or how his teasing made her laugh. In the last few years laughter had been a stranger in her world. Changing that started with being her own boss, not bonding with her current one.

Four hours later, Justine was paying a price for burying herself in work. Her whole body was stiff and every muscle ached. Last night’s mutiny hadn’t been only about principle. Working long hours taxed her physically, and her leg needed regular stretching out to keep it from painful cramping.

She straightened in her chair and carefully stood, but couldn’t suppress a wince of discomfort.

“Are you in pain?” Cal’s voice was sharp, but that didn’t hide a note of concern.

She’d thought he was engrossed in work and it surprised her that he’d noticed. That didn’t mean she was comfortable with the fact that he had.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Don’t do that.” He looked and sounded even more annoyed, if possible. “You don’t have to be superwoman.”

To atone for pushing back against a fourteen-hour day. He didn’t say the words, but they still hovered in the air.

“I’m not pretending to be anything. I really am fine. It’s just that if I sit for long periods of time, my leg gets stiff and a little uncomfortable.”

“I assumed you were kidding about competing work output.”

“Yeah, but I also said I work hard while on the clock,” she said.

“I appreciate the effort, but you should have said something.” Now he sounded ticked off at himself.

“I just did. A fifteen-minute break to stretch it out will do the trick. In physical therapy after the accident, I learned techniques to take care of it. I’ll be back shortly—more alert and productive than ever. And most important, it’s relaxing. I’m used to this happening and know exactly what to do.” She half turned, intending to disappear into her room to do what she needed to in order to loosen up the muscles.

“Don’t leave on my account,” he said. “In fact, I might need some of those techniques myself after this cast comes off.”

Justine knew better than most that he had a point about life after his broken bone healed. Learning yoga during her physical rehabilitation literally got her back on her feet. The experience came really close to saving her life and the lesson was so profound, it changed her life. Or rather, her career goals. The dream to open her own yoga studio was conceived through her intense need to pay it forward and help others the way she’d been helped. How could she say no to this injured man?

“Okay,” she finally said. “Just remember you asked for it.”

She moved to a large area not far from the open French doors leading to the patio. She breathed deeply of the humid, tropical air, then released it. Turning, she saw that Cal was watching her closely, and her heart jumped. It was prudent to pretend that hadn’t happened.

She kicked off her shoes and stood barefoot, facing him. “Normally for a session I wear stretchy yoga pants, so I’ll have to wing it in this outfit.”

“Do you want to change?”

“I only have a fifteen-minute break,” she said to the man who’d gone to battle for more work hours. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to show you the tree pose.”

“A tree doesn’t immediately make one think of stretching,” he mused. “Sounds a little like an oxymoron to me.”

“Movements don’t have to be sweeping and dramatic to make a big difference,” she pointed out. “Just stand straight, shifting your weight to your legs and feet. Then bring your right foot up to your left inner thigh. In the beginning it can be challenging to find balance so it’s all right to place your foot on the calf instead.”

“And then?”

“Hold the pose and breathe.”

“And this does what, exactly?”

“Strengthens your legs and back. Standing straight improves posture and works out the kinks from sitting at a desk for long periods of time.”

“That sounded remarkably like a dig. Is it supposed to make me feel guilty?”