Page 50 of The Billionaire Boss and the Barista

Emma considered that. “I guess that makes sense. So would you like me to text you if I have plans outside the building?”

He knew ‘no’ was the right answer. This would work so much better if he kept things casual, letting Emma come and go as she pleased.

But Garrett couldn’t do it. All his concerns about her health aside, there were too many things that could happen to a beautiful young woman on her own.

Hell, bad shitalreadyhad happened. Bad enough to erase him.

“Did you check in with Pedro?” he asked, ignoring the strangled quality of his voice.

Emma lifted a shoulder, her cheeks duskier than normal. “There wasn’t a need. He was always home.”

That blush was killing him. It helped when Garrett reminded himself Emma was recovering from a major head injury.

“Let’s be practical,” he said, ignoring the fact his chest was trying to collapse on him. “We’re roommates now. I think touching base is reasonable.”

That way he didn’t have to worry she was lying in a ditch. Again.

“You really do sound parental.”

He sent a little prayer of thanks that she didn’t call him dad again. Daddy, however, was still on the table.

Emma lifted a shoulder. “Okay, I’ll do the same. Or I’ll try to.”

He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Sometimes I lose track of time at the office. But you can text me so you don’t have to wonder if I got kidnapped like Rainer almost did.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Rainer almost gotwhat?”

Garrett jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll tell you during dinner. Ready in fifteen?”

She grabbed his arms. “Good God, man! Tell me now.”

Laughing, he reluctantly peeled her hands off him. “Fifteen minutes. I need to shower your cat’s fur off.”

Emma raised her hands, miming choking him.

It was the most enthusiastic she’d been for his company.

Yeah, he might have tricked her into wanting it, but he’d take anything at this point.

“See you in fifteen.”

Chapter Twenty-One

EMMA

Garrett’s suite doors closed behind him. Emma decided she should clean up too.

Quickly stripping off her clothes, she jumped in the shower, setting a personal record. She toweled off with one of the new plush cotton towels.

Emma didn’t know why Garrett had replaced the old ones, but these were twice as big and even thicker, so she wasn’t complaining.

She contemplated her closet while wrapped in the sheet-sized towel.

By rights, her bedroom should be a disaster. When Garrett had her stuff moved here, Emma had intended on leaving most of it in the boxes. It would have made moving out in a few weeks easier. But someone had come in while she was at work and unpacked all her belongings, putting them away in the walk-in closet.

It was strange, seeing her cheap and utilitarian clothes in this palatial closet with its multitude of shoe shelves and clothing rods. Her things occupied less than a quarter of the space.

Shaking off that nagging sensation of being somewhere she shouldn’t be, Emma grabbed a clean bra, leggings, and an oversized T-shirt. This place might be fancy as hell, but she wasn’t going to pretend to be someone she wasn’t.

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