Page 23 of Property of my Boss

He pays my comment no mind and readjusts his hat. “What’s going on? Why are you out here on a date with this guy? He’s your boss.” His voice tightens. “You were sure that he was the prime suspect in the disappearance of your best friend like three days ago.”

“I’m trying to get information,” I lie, knowing full well I’m here because I’ve got some sick attraction to this man I don’t understand. “Plus, I don’t think he’s involved with the Wren thing anymore.”

“Seriously?” my brother gruffs before twisting at the end of his mustache. “He’s manipulating you.”

I don’t respond because I don’t know what to say. I can’t tell him that I like it when Tucker helped me down from the truck, gave me a soft place to sleep, and bossed me around. I can’t tell him I loved the way he ordered me onto my knees and stuffed his cock in my throat.

Nope! Can’t tell him any of those things.

Jack lowers his head and shakes it once before glaring toward me. “This man is dangerous. He does not have good intentions for you, Tilly. You’re getting in too deep. Have you ever considered he’s using you too?”

“What?” I laugh under my breath and cross my arms over my chest, bracing myself for whatever stupidity my brother is about to spit next. “What would he use me for?”

“To make people lose his scent. If he has a nice, sweet nurse standing next to him to diffuse the bad guy persona, people will start to think he’s trustworthy. If someone like you can trust him, they should too. Then before you know it, you’re wrapped up in all his bullshit.”

I pinch my lips together and stare toward my brother as the sounds of kids screaming echo out into the setting afternoon sun. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Sure you do,” he groans under his breath as I turn back and head toward the table where Mira is talking a mile a minute. The closer I get, the easier it is to hear that Mira has switched the conversation regarding the amount of flour she feeds her sourdough to her dream of owning a youth center.

“Hey,” I say, sitting across from Tucker at the picnic table beneath the canopy where we were so happily enjoying our time before Jack showed up.

Mira grins and glances toward me. “I think I bored your friend with my sourdough talk.”

“You didn’t bore me,” Tucker says. “It’s interesting. Hopefully you’ll bring some by.”

“You’re not eating my wife’s fucking sourdough,” my brother snarls loud enough that he causes the table next to us to stare.

“Hey,” Mira smiles sweetly, “let’s not fight. I have more than enough sourdough to go around, and you don’t even like it.”

“I like your sourdough, Mira. I’ve told you that a thousand times.”

“Well, you don’t eat it.”

Jack rolls his eyes and glares at Tucker. “If anything happens to my sister, I’ll make you suffer.”

Tucker huffs under his breath and stands from the table slowly, his frame unfolding until he towers over Jack. “If anything happens to your sister, I’d take personal responsibility for it, and you can rest assured I’d be suffering.”

There’s silence for a moment before Mira leans into my ear, her tone low and whispering as she says, “Oh my God, he’s hot!”

I’m nodding when Jack rolls his eyes and redirects his fury in my direction. “Text me when you get home tonight! I mean it!”

I know I should be thankful he cares about me, and I am, but right now, I want to be left alone. Alone to make mistakes and learn from them.

When he and Mira have left the food tent, Tucker glances toward me. “Finish your pizza, princess. I know you’re starving.”

I nod and grin, taking another bite. “Do I still get dessert if I finish, Daddy?”

He drags in a deep breath as his gaze darkens. “Yes, princess. As soon as you’re finished, you get dessert.”

Chapter Eleven

Tucker

Jesus Christ.

What the fuck is happening to me?

Tilly’s soft hand sits tucked into mine as we stroll down through the center of the fall festival that’s more wholesome than I’ve ever been a day in my life.