A Favor To My Boss

Brandon's POV:

A knot formed in my throat as I traced my tongue along my bottom lip. Emma let out a soft, involuntary moan the moment she tasted the chicken.

"Wow, this is incredible," she said, meeting my gaze.

"I appreciate that," I replied, giving her a small smile.

Even as she spoke, my attention wandered. That lingering sound she made kept replaying in my mind. There was an unexpected sexiness to it—almost too intimate, even though she likely hadn't meant anything by it. I couldn't quite explain why my mind kept drifting in that direction.

For over two years, we had shared countless hours at work. I'd always known she was lovely and easy to get along with, but nothing ever sparked like this before. Suddenly, desire crept in, catching me off guard. Maybe being single has made me notice things I ignored in the past. Back when Darcy and I were together, I never let my eyes wander. Especially not toward Emma, who always kept things strictly professional.

Nobody else could catch my attention. My focus was entirely on Darcy, nobody else mattered.

"Brandon, is something bothering you?" she asked, bringing me back to reality.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that, Emma?" I replied, biting my tongue before I called her something else by mistake.

"I just wanted to say the food's fantastic. You really know your way around a kitchen," she said with a smile.

"I mean it, thank you. Feels strange getting back in the groove. Honestly, it's been ages since I cooked for anyone. Back when I was with Darcy, cooking was something I loved doing for her. At first, she appreciated it, but as our relationship fell apart, it was like nothing I did in the kitchen could please her. She started coming up with reasons to avoid dinner, or she'd pick apart every meal. Looking back, maybe I should've seen it coming," I said, letting out a sigh and sinking further into the chair. "A few months before she finally left, she seemed determined to tear down whatever confidence I had left—especially when it came to the bedroom or the kitchen. She used to love it when we made love or had spontaneous, passionate sex. She'd complain about everything, said I was boring, claimed I'd lost my spark. For a while, I actually believed her. Then, when I started seeing other people, things shifted. The women I was with never seemed to mind what I brought to the table. Funny enough, Darcy even came back for more more than once. That did a lot to restore some faith in myself. To be honest, Darcy even showed up a few times wanting to hook up, which made me realize maybe I hadn't lost it after all. But this dinner tonight? This is the first time I've cooked for anyone since her."

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, honestly. You shouldn't let her words get to you," Emma said, shaking her head.

"I get that now. Still, it creeps up on me sometimes. Back then, I just took it all in and let it mess with my head," I admitted.

"It's the worst, isn't it? When the person you love—someone who's supposed to care about you—spends their energy making you feel like you're never good enough," she said, her words gentle.

Something about the way she spoke made me wonder if she was speaking from her own experience.

"Has this ever happened to you?" I asked, curiosity edging into my voice.

"Yeah. I dated someone for a year who made my life miserable. He was cruel, always putting me down, and it escalated until he hit me. That was it for me. I cut him off after that and never looked back," Emma said.

"That takes guts to walk away. Guys like that are just pathetic. I'm relieved you got out when you did."

"I am too, honestly. But let's talk about something else. How did you learn to cook like this?"

"Dad was the one who taught me. He was an excellent cook. Every recipe he mastered, he made sure I learned it too. He passed away three years ago, and I still think about him every day," I said, a heaviness settling in my chest. I still miss him every day.

"Dad warned me about Darcy more than once. He believed I deserved better, but he understood how much I cared for her. Maybe I should've taken his advice, but he never tried to stop me from following my heart."

"That's heartbreaking. I'm sorry for your loss," Emma responded.

"Thanks. He really was the best. But Emma, you've been part of my team for over two years, and I barely know a thing about your story," I said.

Curiosity kept tugging at me, making me want to know more about her. Emma had this quiet way of making you feel heard. Opening up felt easy when she was nearby. Whenever I needed to let off steam or deliver a speech meant for no one in particular, she always stuck around, listening. Lately, the weight I carried felt different—heavier and more tangled—yet she never turned away.

"It's not really your responsibility to know my story, Brandon. But getting to know you? That's definitely my responsibility." A quick smile played on her lips.

"Maybe so, but I'd like to know you for real. Spending time like this, away from the office, feels good. Let's finish dinner, pour ourselves some wine, and see where the conversation takes us." I smiled at her, hoping she'd be on board.

"Sure, if you want. There's not a lot to tell, honestly." She gave a half-shrug.

"Something tells me there's a lot you're not saying, Emma." A smirk tugged at my lips.

There was something about her that hinted at a deeper story.

"If you say so. Now be quiet, I'm eating." She rolled her eyes, laughing as she stuck out her tongue. "

"Whatever you say," I replied, doing as she asked. She laughed again, and the air lightened as we went back to our meal.

Watching her savor each bite brought a smile to my face. But every little sound of pleasure she made was starting to drive me a bit wild.

Pushing away distracting thoughts, I focused on my meal. Maybe if we finished eating quickly, I'd have a chance to calm myself down and stop feeling her every little reaction deep in my gut.

"That was incredible!" she exclaimed, setting her silverware aside with a satisfied sigh.

"It means a lot that you enjoyed it. But, fair warning—you're on dish duty now," I teased, flashing her a grin.

"Okay." She shot me a playful smile, scooping up the dirty plates and making her way to the sink.

"Emma, I was joking." I laughed, following behind her.

"After a meal like that? Washing up is the least I can do."

"I'm not letting you wash everything," I responded.

Emma ignored me, determined to start scrubbing. Typical—she could be so stubborn.

Ignoring my protests, she turned on the faucet and started scrubbing away. I stepped behind her, reaching for the dish towel, just to tease.

"Nope! Hands off!" Her hand shot out to swat mine away.

"Emma, you know there's a dishwasher, right?" I couldn't hold back a laugh.

"I'm not bothered. Now go on, let me take care of this," she said, glancing over her shoulder at me.

Her words made me grin.

Taking her time, she finally turned around, ending up wedged between me and the sink. The gap between us shrank to nothing. She didn't seem fazed by how close we were, but I felt every inch of distance disappear, a sharp longing building inside me. She peered up at me from beneath those long lashes.

There was a playful glint in her gaze, and I found it impossible not to be drawn in.

"If you don't let me do this in peace, I'll splash you with water." She grinned, daring me to test her.

"Now, that's just cruel," I said, placing my hands on the countertop, caging her in.

"Honestly, I think it'd be hilarious." She giggled. With that, I leaned closer, shrinking the space between us until only a whisper separated our bodies.

I couldn't say I had a plan. All I knew was that I wanted to test the air between us—to see if she felt the pull as strongly as I did.

"No, it really wouldn't be."

"Why don't you try getting even closer?" she said, lips twitching into a secretive smile as her eyes never left mine.

"I could, but I probably shouldn't," I replied.

"Yes, that might be a bit too much, wouldn't it?" She smiled.

The way she looked at me then, there was a spark—something that felt dangerously close to longing, though maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. I caught myself before things went any further and took a step back, exhaling quietly.

She went right back to washing dishes, not saying a word, her focus fixed on the task. Dragging my fingers through my hair, I tried to clear my head.

If I wasn't careful, I'd end up making a move I couldn't take back.