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“I run the network since I bought the network and installed it. I also pay for the internet in the building, as well as the heating and cooling in the building.” She ran her fingers through her hair.
“Those are included in rent, Ruth,” he replied. That was what was in his rental contract.
“No, I pay them. Rent is separate and would be higher if I didn’t take advantage of you like I do.” She bit her lip, waiting for his anger. She deserved it.
“What exactly do you do?” He eyed her skeptically
“I, um, do very little work at the office. I do everything you ask, I swear, but I have a lot of free time.” She lowered her head and stared at the orange carpet.
“You are constantly working. You are typing or reading all the time. I don’t even know how you keep so busy.” He squatted down in front of her and took her hands. Concerned about her reaction.
“But I don’t do that for you. I do it for me. I write books for a living, and I just work for you to keep busy,” she admitted and held her breath. She had only said those words a few times in her life. She never told anyone about her actual job. Even her mom was in the dark about how she made money.
“So, you write books at work?” he asked in confusion.
“Rarely. I usually edit them there. I write here.”
“What kind of books?”
“Romance novels.” She peeked up at him, wishing she could say suspense or mystery. Even owner’s manuals would be less embarrassing than admitting to writing sexy, smutty books. But there is nothing else she would want to write.
“I want to say you are pulling my leg about this.” He ran his thumb over her cheek, thinking she was kidding him.
Getting up, she pulled him to a shelf on the wall that had been there for years. On it was close to ninety books. “These are mine. I get a copy of each one that is published.”
He scanned the shelf. “None of these have your name on them, Ruth.”
She had them grouped by author name. He was right; none of them were under Mary or Ruth or Johnson or Kennedy. She had picked unique names for each of her pen names.
“I write under different names.”
“How many do you do a year?” He pulled one out and looked at the cover. It was a scantily clad couple in an embrace. The guy was shirtless, and the woman was close to it.
“Around eight now.” She was proud of her accomplishment.
“When did you start?” He put the book back in its place.
“The first fall when I was working for Frank, and Franky was at school. Frank usually took an afternoon nap, and I was really bored. I started writing letters to Franky, but he complained that it was too much reading. So, then I started writing short stories. It was quiet, and I could do it in the office. Then I started reading romance novels in the evenings since I was alone. One day, I decided I should try to write one. I finished it just before my transplant. Afterwards, I sent it to an editor, and they published it. I just kept going. Frank didn’t care what I did.”
She bit her lip. “But I felt bad working on my stuff when you came. I tried to stop, but I had nothing to do all day. I just edit now. But I give you perks, like internet and computer stuff. Do you hate me?”
He leaned against the wall. “When you are sitting at your desk blushing, what are you editing?”
“Sex scenes. They always make me blush in the office. I sometimes think you can hear what I am reading.”
“The day of the bonfire before Mia came in, were you editing a sex scene?” he demanded.
“Yes. Could you tell?” She had finished the book about Jessa and Link, and it was one of her favorites, maybe simply because of that scene.
Cupping her chin in his hands, he brushed a thumb across her lips. “I think I could. I wanted to have sex with you right there on your desk.”
“The scene took place on your desk,” she whispered.
He pulled her close to him. “I will never look at that desk the same again.”
“I have written sex scenes everywhere in that office. Recently, I have written a lot of office romances.” She felt herself blush.
“I am going to have sex with you in this room, right now.” He opened her robe to reveal she was naked beneath it, making him grin.
“I have a desk over there.” She let the robe fall from her shoulders.
He pulled her to him, then turned her around and pinned her against the wall. “Too far away.”
A shiver of excitement ran through her as his mouth claimed hers. Ruth was glad he knew her secret, or one of them at least. There was time for the others later. She was busy now.
