Page 8 of Marked By my Boss
Beau returns, brushing his sleeve with his massive hand like it’s just another day. He doesn’t speak right away. He just looks at me with that same steady gaze he always does. The one that makes me feel like he could handle anything.
“You’re safe now.” He rubs his rough palm against my shoulder in comfort. “Do you have anywhere to go?”
I drag in a deep breath, panic sinking in. “Yeah. I mean… I can find somewhere. My brother has a farm. I just… I’m sure he’ll let me crash there for a while.”
I must not sound convincing because Beau’s eyes are telling me a story. One I desperately need to hear.
“Look,” he glances down at the ground then up again, brushing his square hand down over his face, “maybe it’s weird for me to ask, but if you’re not ready for everyone to know the details of all this, and you need a break from reality, you can stay at my place tonight. I’ve got plenty of room.”
I blink at him, stunned by the offer. “Oh.”
He sighs low, and stares down at the ground as though he’s trying to find another way to word what he’s presented. “Iknow it’s a strange offer, me being your boss and all, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I just… I guess I thought if you were close, I could keep an eye on you tonight. I don’t trust that Dave isn’t going to try some shit again.” He glances at me. “I almost hope he does. I have loads of security at my place. He tries anything, we’ll have it recorded. Makes me think I should petition for cameras here at dispatch.”
I swallow hard, the weight of everything pressing against my ribs. The offer is generous, but I’m not used to being protected like this. Dave is the only man I’ve ever known outside of family, and he never cared if I walked alone in the dark or cried myself quiet.
Beau’s rewriting those rules and I don’t know what to do with it.
“I don’t know what to say,” I murmur, my voice thin.
“You don’t have to say anything.” His tone is softer now. “Just think about it. I’ll be here either way.”
There’s no pressure in his words. Instead, there’s an undercurrent of concern that makes me feel cared for in ways I haven’t in a long time… if ever. It’s one night, it’s late, and he’s offering. What harm is it going to do to stay with him? Besides, he’s right, I could use the break from reality, and checking in with my brother will mean a lot more explaining than I’m up to right now.
I nod slowly. “I’ll go,” I say finally, “just for tonight.”
Beau’s shoulders ease, and he gives a small nod like he’s relieved but trying not to show it. “Okay. I’ll get the calls rerouted to the Springs for the night and pull the truck around. I think I need to get you safe and settled, if that’s okay.”
I step forward before I can second-guess myself, arms reaching for him in a slow, careful motion. Beau hesitates for half a beat, then meets me halfway, adjusting instinctively to the curve of my belly between us. His arms wrap around myshoulders, firm but gentle, and I press my cheek against his chest, letting the warmth of him settle me.
It’s not a long hug, it’s not dramatic, but it’s everything.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my face muffled against his shirt.
He exhales, one hand resting between my shoulder blades, the other bracing lightly at my side to keep the pressure off. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re letting me help.”
I pull back slowly, and he gives me space, his eyes scanning my face like he’s memorizing it for later. Then he nods toward the door. “Let’s get you some rest.”
I don’t say anything, and I don’t know what comes next. But for tonight, I let myself be cared for… just this once.
Chapter Four
Beau
Her expanded belly hides behind my T-shirt as she curls into the couch by the fireplace. I wanted her close so I could keep an eye on her, but I’m pretty sure bringing her here is on top of the list of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made. It’s not just the curve of her body or the way she fits into the quiet of my home, it’s the way she looked at me when I offered help. Like no one had ever done it without strings. Like she didn’t know what to do with kindness.
And now she’s here, curled up in my living room, wearing my clothes, carrying someone else’s child, and I’m trying like hell to keep my thoughts clean.
I sit across from her, pretending to scroll through my phone, pretending I’m not cataloging every sound she makes. The soft sighs. The way she shifts to get comfortable. The way her fingers rest protectively over her belly like she’s shielding something sacred.
She’s not mine, she’s not ready, and I’m her boss… but none of that stops the ache in my chest when I look at her. None of it stops the part of me that wants to make her and that baby feel safe every damn day for the rest of eternity.
I shift in my chair, trying to focus on the fire crackling in front of us, but my eyes keep drifting back to her. She’s halfasleep now, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, one hand curled under her belly like instinct, like love.
It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. I shouldn’t feel this way. I know that, but knowing doesn’t stop the quiet pull in my chest every time she exhales and settles deeper into the cushions like she finally feels safe.
She’s been through hell, and I’m not here to complicate that. I’m here to make sure she gets through the night without fear. To make sure she knows someone’s in her corner, even if it’s just me, sitting across the room, pretending I’m not falling for the way she holds herself together.
I stand slowly, grab the folded blanket from the armrest, and walk it over, draping it gently across her legs, careful not to wake her. She stirs, just slightly, and murmurs something I can’t quite catch. I pause, watching her breathe, the tips of my fingers still on her soft skin.
