New Tricks Page 4

  “Yes. Marjorie thinks I have a thing for him and is wondering if I can keep professional.” He rolled his eyes, and his mother looked up at him with a shrug.

  “You better be professional. He used to mow your lawn when he was a kid.”

  Thomas nearly dropped the phone. He’d been trying to figure out why Brandon looked familiar, and now the pieces fell into place.

  “Marjorie, I need to go.” He felt himself paling, and he didn’t want to listen to her laughter when she found out about this. “Just take care of things.”

  “Of course.”

  Thomas put his phone in his pocket. “What are you talking about?” he asked his mom. “He used to what?”

  “Brandon Wilson was the young man who mowed your lawn when you were still living here. Remember? He took that tangle of a lawn you had and made it nice. That was before the business really took off and you decided to move everything to New York.”

  “How old was he then?” Thomas asked a little breathlessly.

  “About fifteen, I’d think. Why?”

  Thomas shivered as he tried to remember. Brandon had been tall even then, lanky and handsome, with the best eyes. Not that Thomas spent a great deal of time watching him. He’d been aware that he was a kid, and there had been no way he was going to perv on someone underage.

  “No reason.” That would make the adult Brandon about twenty-five, and man, he’d grown up handsome. That was for sure. “Marjorie is handling the last of the employment stuff for him.”

  His mom smiled. “That’s very nice of you. That’s going to help both of them a lot.” She continued her knitting, so Thomas put the dog on the floor, stood, and wandered through the house he’d grown up in to the backyard.

  As soon as the door slid open, both dogs raced over and filed outside, turning around to see where he was going.

  “You’re little pests,” he said with no heat. They were largely good dogs, and when he sat on the lounger in the shade, they both jumped up and settled around him.

  He’d come here to try to simplify his life, maybe even enjoy some free time and relax. What he hadn’t expected were complications, like an assistant who was drop-dead gorgeous and made his heart race a little faster. He’d always hired women to avoid any sort of attraction when he needed someone close to him. That was how he’d found Marjorie, and Karen before her.

  Thomas groaned and lay back, closing his eyes. The dogs snuggled closer, as if knowing he had a dilemma to contend with. Not that it really mattered. None of it did. Brandon was going to be his assistant, and that meant he could treat him the same way he did Marjorie and everyone else who worked for him. It didn’t matter that Brandon was walking, talking sex appeal, or that he had the bluest eyes and the longest lashes Thomas had ever seen. None of that was important. He had to ignore it, as well as the way his heart raced just by having Brandon standing close to him. He’d tell himself that a million times if he had to. None of that mattered. Brandon was going to work for him and that was all that counted. He’d been down the road of dating an employee and it had been a disaster. He wasn’t doing it again.

  THOMAS SPENT the rest of the day and the next doing very little, like he was on vacation. Not that he took regular vacations, but he felt good and his calendar was largely free. Marjorie only sent him a single text to let him know that Brandon had accepted the job as his assistant and that he would be at the house he’d rented Thursday morning to meet the movers and help oversee that things were properly unloaded. Apparently Marjorie had also hired people who would unpack everything and a decorator to set up the house. Thomas could move things around, of course, but the initial unpacking would be done.

  Thursday morning, Thomas got up, dressed, and drove over to his home early in the morning. Marjorie had helped him find the house. It was bigger than he’d set out to get, but it was available, so he’d taken it. Renting left his options open. The plan was for him to live here for six months or so until he got settled in the area and knew what he wanted. Then he could decide if he liked it here and wanted to settle down or if he would go back to New York.

  There was a car already in the circular drive, so he parked behind it. He went inside and found Brandon standing in the entrance hall.

  “Good morning, Mr. Stepford,” Brandon said as he entered. “Your mother forwarded a key via my grandmother. I hope it’s okay that I got started.”

  “Thomas, please,” he said without thinking as he looked around. He’d seen pictures of the house, but this was the first time he’d been inside.

  “All right. Thomas.” Brandon smiled, and Thomas’s heart beat a little faster. He pushed away the zip of attraction and kept his mind on the task at hand. “Marjorie apparently sent a list of your furniture and things to a designer, and they developed some basic plans for placement. She sent that over to me yesterday, and I’ve been reviewing it.”

  “What do you think?”

  “After seeing the house, I think she had some good ideas, but other things are going to be problematic. We can make adjustments as we go.” Brandon seemed excited, and Thomas watched as he left the entryway, heading to the large living room. “She has the television in here, but I thought it would be better in the room in the back off the kitchen. It’s cozier and less formal.”

  “All right. You do what you think is best,” Thomas said as he turned to leave the room.

  Brandon stared after him.

  “What is it?”

  “Don’t you care? This is going to be your home. Maybe for just as long as you rent it, but you’re going to live here. Don’t you care where things get put?” Brandon scratched his head.

  Thomas shrugged. “It’s only for a few months. So what does it really matter?” His phone rang and Thomas pulled it out of his pocket. “Hey, Blaze.”

  “Do you miss New York yet?”

  Thomas chuckled. “Not really. The movers are about to arrive at the house I rented. Though I don’t know what I’m going to do with all this space.” He turned to look through the large rooms. “I have a small dining table. The room here could fit a table for twelve.”

  “No shit?” Blaze asked. “Damn, I forget sometimes that the rest of the world doesn’t live in tiny apartments and raise a family of four in eleven hundred square feet. I suppose you’re not going to know what to do with it all.”

  “I’ll figure it out.” He turned, watching as Brandon reviewed the furniture layouts, occasionally glancing his way and then back to what he was doing. “How are you? How are things there?”

  “No different. I mean, you haven’t been gone all that long, and everything is just fine. The Swanson deal is moving forward without a hitch, and the Hell’s Kitchen building just received the final approvals, so construction is getting ready to start. Everything is sailing along.”

  “Good.” Thomas sighed softly and let go of some of the trepidation he’d had about moving away. “I’m glad.”

  “No, you’re not,” Blaze said. “You’d be happier if everything had fallen apart in your absence and you had to come back and save the day.” He laughed. “Don’t give me any of your crap. I know you too well. You live for this place.”

  Thomas stifled a groan. “I used to.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice, but he probably failed.

  “What’s with the sadness? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  Leave it to Blaze to become insightful all of a sudden.

  “Maybe.” Thomas turned to where Brandon had opened the front door to let the movers inside. He led them through the hall and out of Thomas’s sight. “It’s nothing serious. Just that the doctors told me I needed a break from all the stress. They are worried about my blood pressure and the fact that things… are….” He didn’t want to talk about this. The doctors had been worried about his digestive issues and stomach pains.

  “Then you best take care of yourself. We have things in hand here. Maybe in a few weeks, once the Swanson deal is finalized, I’ll fly out to see you.”
>
  “I think I’d like that.” Thomas smiled as he thought of seeing his best friend once again.

  “Good. Now take it easy and, damn you, I wish you’d said something before.” Blaze sounded more than a little pissed.

  “It’s no big deal. Mom and Dad needed me here, and I needed a break and to take things slower. It seemed like this was the right thing to do for now. I can try to let go of some of the stress and see what Mom and Dad need.” He shrugged as the movers began carrying in boxes. Brandon stood at the door like an adorable traffic cop, pointing and laughing with the guys as they passed.

  “Thomas, are you there?” Blaze asked. “Are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry. My attention was pulled elsewhere.” Yeah, exactly where it doesn’t need to be. You don’t need to be watching Brandon every chance you get.

  “I can tell. You get done what you need to and call me when you have a chance, okay? We can talk some more.” Blaze ended the call, and Thomas put the phone in his pocket, then joined Brandon at the door.

  “Is everything under control?”

  Brandon turned to look at him, and their gazes met for just a few seconds, but a shiver went up Thomas’s spine, and he swallowed, taking a step back. But the intensity that passed between them didn’t dissipate.

  “Yes.” Brandon turned away and cleared his throat. “There’s a large team of movers.” He stepped back as boxes were brought in and distributed through the house. “That goes in the room next to the kitchen instead of the living room,” Brandon directed the movers.

  As he returned to his post, his scent reached Thomas’s nose, clean and masculine, with just a hint of cologne that only added to the male intensity that washed off him. Thomas had to stop himself from inhaling deeply.

  “There are two large wooden cases on the truck. Have them put in the living room and don’t have them opened. They can stay that way for now.” He’d figure out where he wanted to put them and then have them professionally hung.

  “All right.” Brandon made a note and stepped back as the movers brought in the sofa. He excused himself and followed them, directing them on the placement, then returned. Brandon seemed efficient and careful, which was a plus. But every time he turned to Thomas, with those eyes…. Thomas had seen that color once, when he was in the Caribbean. The blue of the sea when the sun shone on it. The color was stunning, and Thomas could watch it all day.

  “I need to make some calls,” he said, and left the room just to get away from Brandon. Man oh man, he was in deep trouble. His willpower was draining away after only an hour with Brandon. He needed to get it together and put this crap aside. Brandon worked for him, and that meant he was off-limits.

  Besides, what would a handsome young guy like him see in an old man about to turn forty?

  Chapter 4

  BRANDON KNEW instinctively where Thomas was in the house. His job was to try to anticipate what Thomas was going to need, so he kept an eye on him, which wasn’t hard at all. Thomas was more than easy on the eyes, and Brandon was drawn to him just like he had been when he’d mowed his lawn all those years ago. Not that he was going to do anything about it. Attraction or not, he was going to be professional.

  “Thomas,” Brandon said as gently as he could when he found his boss lying on the back-porch chaise, one of the few pieces of furniture left at the house by the previous occupants. Thomas’s eyes were closed, and he actually looked relaxed, at ease… and stunning. The lines around his eyebrows and mouth had smoothed out, and his hair was slightly askew. His chest rose and fell at regular intervals, and his jeans hugged his thighs invitingly. He was handsome, to say the least. Brandon hated to disturb him, but he had some questions. When Thomas didn’t stir, he touched his shoulder, and Thomas opened his eyes. “Sorry.”

  Thomas sat up, wiping his face. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He blinked a few times, looking around, probably trying to get his bearings.

  “There are a number of questions about the master bedroom. There are three large rooms in this place, and they all have attached bathrooms. Which one do you want?” Brandon felt like a fool.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Thomas grumbled.

  “Are you sure?” Brandon asked.

  Thomas got up with a huff, and Brandon followed him, doing his best not to watch as he climbed the stairs after him. It was hard—pun intended, because he was getting there himself, watching Thomas’s butt encased in those jeans.

  At the top of the steps, Brandon pointed at one of the rooms. “This is the master, but it’s in the front of the house.” He opened the other door. “This room is just as big. The only difference is the closet. But it’s in the back and would be quieter. So will that one.” He indicated the third room. “Do you have a preference?”

  Thomas looked at both rooms. “It really doesn’t matter after all those years in New York. It’s never quiet there. But put me in the room in the back.” He pulled open the closet door. “This will be just fine.”

  “Okay. What size is your bed?” Brandon asked, and Thomas turned to him, their eyes meeting once more.

  “King,” he answered in a gruff tone.

  Brandon swallowed and nodded, his imagination taking a short flight of erotic fantasy, wondering what Thomas would look like on a deep green king-size duvet. After two seconds, he shook his head slightly and tapped his face with his hand to pull himself back to reality. “Then we can put the bed on this wall and the dresser over here. There’s a chest on the plan for one of the guest rooms, so we could put that at the end of your bed if you like.”

  “Sure.” Thomas smiled slightly and patted Brandon’s shoulder, sending a wave of heat through him. It was an innocent touch, and Brandon pushed his reaction away. He was overreacting, which needed to end.

  “I’ll have the movers bring the things up. Have you given any thought to where you want the pictures to go? Oh, and those two large crates are downstairs. They look like they made it through in good condition.”

  “Thank you. Umm, just leave the pictures for now, I guess.”

  Thomas looked like he could use that nap Brandon had interrupted, so Brandon shooed him out, then directed the movers up the stairs with the bed. Once they had the bed and mattress placed, he dug through the boxes for the bedding and pillows and made up the bed for him. Then he shut the door and headed downstairs again.

  The truck was nearly empty, with the last of the furniture being placed. The rooms were spare, but that wasn’t anything he could help. The kitchen and family area seemed comfortable enough. One of the movers had organized the kitchen, and the rest were either bringing in the last of the things or taking out empty boxes and wrappings.

  “Thomas,” Brandon said when he found him once again on the back porch. “I went ahead and set up your bedroom for you.” The bags under his eyes told him Thomas hadn’t been sleeping. “I can handle the rest of this for you if you need some time alone.” He wasn’t going to suggest sleep, though it seemed to be what Thomas needed.

  “Thanks.” Thomas’s phone rang as Brandon went back to supervising the last of the move. If Thomas wasn’t going to take a few minutes to rest when he obviously needed it, there was little Brandon could do except try to help him as much as possible.

  An hour later, the movers were packing up the last of their boxes and furniture pads. The living room had only a few pieces of furniture in it because most of the pieces had been diverted into the family area so Thomas could relax when he wanted to. Brandon figured Thomas could buy whatever he wanted for the other room. His goal had been to make Thomas as comfortable as possible.

  He was making a final pass through the house when Marjorie called.

  “How is the move going?”

  “Excellent. Most things are unpacked, and I set up Thomas’s room for him and got his clothes hung in his closet. I figured he could put away the things in his dresser. The decorator did a pretty poor job with colors and such, so I ended up moving a lot of things around. Thomas seemed to like what I did, tho
ugh.”

  “Then that’s what counts,” Marjorie said. “Is he getting any rest at all?”

  Brandon rolled his eyes. “He was lying down for a little this afternoon, but he’s been on the phone for most of the day. I think someone is calling him every ten minutes or so. He’s on the phone now.” Brandon bit his lower lip to keep from telling Marjorie how he thought Thomas looked. Thomas was a grown man and didn’t need him tattling on him.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “But he’s the boss. Wouldn’t he just tell people not to call if he didn’t want them too?” Brandon asked.

  Marjorie sighed. “No. Thomas is a very good man and a great boss. He’d never tell anyone not to call. Instead he tries to solve their issues, and everyone in this damn place calls him instead of trying to solve problems they can do themselves with a little thought.” Man, she sounded aggravated. “I’ll talk to a few people here, see if they can’t help.”

  “Okay.” He really didn’t feel it was something he should get involved with. “Is there anything else I need to do today?”

  “No. I sent you a phone and iPad that you can use, and I’ll email you the log-in information so you can access his calendar.” She typed in the background, and then a phone rang. Marjorie put him on hold to take the other call.

  He held the door as the last of the movers left the house. One of the men returned with a paper for him to sign. Brandon looked it over, signed for the delivery, and then closed the door after them. The house was quiet, and Brandon went into the sparse living room while he waited for Marjorie.

  “Sorry,” she said when she returned, still typing. “No. You should check with Thomas and then go on home. If you got him settled in his house, then you did your job for the day.”

  “Thanks, Marjorie.”

  “That’s a big job.” She seemed pleased, which made Brandon happy. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow unless something comes up.” She said goodbye and hung up.