Page 67 of The Back Forty
“No,” I squeak, sounding thoroughly unconvincing.
His mouth tips up in a slow, dangerous smile. “How many times have you wanted me to do that these past thirteen months that we’ve worked together?”
Oh no. We are not going there.Because a lie would be once or twice, the truth would beone thousand times.
“Fine, don’t answer that,” he continues, his voice dipping even lower. “But I’ll tell you how many times I’ve thought about it.Every goddamn night.Every time that you fell asleep on the plane next to me, your head on my shoulder, snoring like a baby.”
“I donotsnore.” I try to deflect.
He chuckles. “You do. And it’s adorable. Sometimes I couldn't stop watching your lips while you breathed and admiring how soft they are. I wonder what it'd feel like to kiss them.”
My cheeks pink up. He does that. He’s done that? Because I might have done the same when he’s fallen asleep on planes. He’s got some nice lips. And that reminds me, he hasn’t kissed me yet. Do I want him to kiss me?
Oh god, what am I doing?!
He chuckles again. “Every night when we had those separate hotel rooms right next to each other…”
“You entertained multiple women, if I recall correctly.”
His brows shoot up. “I didn't 'entertain,' all of them. Most of them were for work. Most nights I slept alone," he starts but then his eyes narrow. "Did that bother you?”
“No!” I say way too loudly, voice cracking like a liar caught mid-sprint.
He leans in, slow and sure, his nose brushing along the side of my neck like he already knows the effect it has on me—and damn it, he’s right. Every nerve ending lights up like I’ve been plugged into a live wire. Shivers roll down my spine like an avalanche. Because he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s so fucking good at it too.
And I’m starting to realize he’s been thinking about this, us, for longer than I let myself hope. Maybe we’ve both just been waiting for one reckless moment to let it all spill over.
“I needed a fucking distraction,” he says, voice low, jaw tight. “From sitting next to you all day. Talking to you. Eating with you. Flying with you. Living in that tension. I tried with other women, Dani. But they never helped. They didn’t take the edge off. Because it was always you that I was thinking about instead. My employee. The forbidden fruit. The one woman that I thought would never want me back.”
I swallow hard. The words are right there, caught in my throat. I want to tell him he wasn’t alone in those feelings. That I felt it too. That every night I heard the click of his hotel door closing, I wished it was mine.
But I can’t. I can’t do that. Because I’ve done this before. I’ve blurred the lines between work and want. And it broke me.
Romance novels might turn that mess into a happy ending and call it a boss and employee romance trope, but in real life? Workplace relationships end in HR meetings, painful exits, or worse, bitter resentment and broken trust. And I’ve already gambled once. I’m not sure I have it in me to lose again.
“Don’t go back to Isla's tonight,” he says with a plea.
“I have to.”
“Then come home with me now,” he murmurs, stepping in close again. “Let me take care of your body. And tell me who the fuck Elijah is and what your sister meant earlier when she mentioned a heart attack.”
And just like that, the temperature drops. Reality crashes in like a cold front. Cold water. That’s what it feels like. A full bucket dumped right over my head.
Elijah. The stress. The stroke. My old job. All the things I’ve worked so hard to compartmentalize start breaking through, and it’s too much. I can feel my heart begin to race, and I know a panic attack is starting. I've been having them for years and the best thing for me to do is get a distraction from the situation, splash some cold water on my hands and face and take some deep, cleansing breaths before it gets worse.
I duck under his arm, catching him off balance just long enough to slip free.
“Let me pack up my stuff. Then I’ll tell you what you need to know.” My voice is quieter now. “I just… I need a minute to gather my thoughts. Please.”
He exhales through his nose, frustrated, jaw clenched. “Fine. Want me to drive you back?”
“I brought my car. I’ll meet you later—after you’re done with your brothers. I just need a little time alone before we talk Law.”
He steps toward me like he might say more, like he might reach for me, but I take a big step back before he can. Because if he touches me, I’ll give in again. And if I give in, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop this time.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I say softly, then turn and walk away before my knees can give out.
Chapter 27 – Lawson
