Page 70 of #Bossholes

I grit my teeth and glance into my new chef’s kitchen. It’s certainly big enough to cook in, but there’s one teeny tiny problem. That’s my last room to unpack, and I’ve been feeling extra lazy today. In my defense, work was a lot. “Chinese? Tacos?”

He shrugs, zero excitement on his face for any of those options, so I pull up a food app and am about to give a few more options when there’s a knock at the front door.

“Are you expecting company?” I sign with my words, glancing at Colin, brows raised.

He rolls his eyes and gives me a look that says, are you kidding me?

I don’t even know where we live.

Fair. I barely know where we live.

But then his eyes light up, and he takes off toward the door, signing one word.Brantley.

Dammit. Isn’t it bad enough that I had to see him all day at the office? Did I really piss off the fates? Was I a terrible person in a past life? Failed to recycle? Accidentally kicked a dog? No, that doesn’t sound like me.

When they helped unload our stuff yesterday and disappeared, I thought we had come to some sort of arrangement. One where they left me the heck alone outsidethe office. I guess that’s too good to be true. Let’s hope if this is Brantley, he left his merry men—aka his brother and lawyer bestie—at home.

Colin whips open the door and I lean over, trying to sneak a peek, but nearly topple out of my chair. Nope, scratch that. The chair slips out from under me, and I’m pitched on the floor. My skirt flies up, my legs are caught in the chair legs, and I think I might die on the spot.

I twist, kick a little bit, but instead of unwrapping myself from the wood, one of my legs is now stuck in the arm hole.

“Fuck.”

“Is that my little firecracker laying on the floor?” Maverick stops beside me, a huge shit-eating grin on his face as he looks down at me. “What are you doing down there, darling? It’s a little late for naptime.”

I cross my arms and try to look casual despite laying sideways on the floor, completely tangled in a chair, but then realize half my ass is hanging out so I quickly pull down my skirt. “Just hanging out.”

No pun intended.

“Do you need some…help?” This one from Wyatt who has now joined Maverick and is standing above my head.

Oh, perfect, here comes Brantley and Colin to join the party. The two of them on Maverick’s other side, arms loosely folded across their chests, heads tilted to the right, and raised brows. Looks like Colin has been adopted into the twin gang.

Why are you on the floor?

“I wanted to check out the underside of this table and just what I thought, good craftsmanship. It’s a nice study piece of furniture.”

I know I’m full of shit. They all know I’m full of shit. But instead of laughing at me, Brantley simply sighs, pulls my legs free, grabs the arms of the chair, and lifts both me and it entirelyoff the floor. He’s helping, the gesture is innocent enough, but the way his arms bulge in his faded t-shirt should be considered illegal.

In fact, I don’t even register the moment the chair is upright and back on the floor. I’m way too busy getting a lady boner for my boss’s arms.

Yep.

Those bad boys are going to be fueling my clit-thumping fantasies tonight.

He’s also wearing jeans again—all of them are—and we all know how that melts my brain.

“You got a little bit of drool right there, baby girl.” Wyatt reaches out and rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, or at least he tries before I slap his hand away.

“There is not. And don’t call me that.”

Maverick clears his throat and holds up two bags—no idea how I missed those. Right, I was ogling biceps. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if a small fire started in the apartment or Wyatt spontaneously broke into the chicken dance. “I brought BBQ.”

Colin takes one look at the bags, his face lighting up, and takes them in the living room. My bosses follow, and I let out a sigh. I guess we’re eating dinner together. I might as well accept defeat. So I head to the kitchen to get drinks.

I’m digging a Coke out of the fridge, putting it and the bottles of water on the counter when the air shifts behind me. The heavy weight of someone’s gaze settles on my back, and I find myself blushing which is ridiculous. It could be Colin coming out to help.

But as I whirl around, breath trapped in my throat, I’m captured in Brantley’s darkened emerald gaze.

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