Page 8 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

My throat constricts, and I set my side down with a thud. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about.

Two years ago—in my pre-Jacqueline era—I got caught up in Olivia McCoy’s legendary charm. Her brother had asked for our advice on a renovation he was planning, and Olivia’s feedback was … impressive. She was smart. Competent. Funny. I felt a pull to her I wasn’t expecting. I wish I hadn’t been so impressed.

Let’s call it a momentary lapse in reason.

“Huh.” Teller lowers his side, cocks his brow. “I seem to remember you telling me about a surprisingly good kiss with a member of the wedding. Come on. You must remember her, if I do. Her sisters dared her to?—”

“Nope.” I cut him off, even as the image of a sly half smile and bottle-green eyes flits across my brain. Followed by the flame in Olivia’s cheeks when I told her I wasn’t interested.

Which was only half true.

I would’ve been fully interested, except that when we’d met at a wedding the summer before, Olivia flirted with me big time, then paired up with one of the groomsman.

This smug show-off named Drake Hawkins.

To be clear, I didn’t flirt back with her. So it wasn’t like she chose him over me. But the fact that she started dating that guy in the first place was the only red flag I needed. If he was the kind of man Olivia was into, I’d never be the one for her.

So a year later, when she kissed me on a dare, I automatically said, “No thank you.” She returned to her sisters, and they stayed for hours. Dancing. Karaoke. She never looked my way again. I was just a game to her that night. But it didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now.

I’m not going to be anybody’s love interest ever. So.

Problem solved.

“Hmmm.” Teller takes off his ball cap to scratch his head. “I don’t remember you saying the bridesmaid’s name was Nope.”

“Ha ha.” My mouth goes crooked. “It definitely should be.” Teller and I hop down out of the U-Haul, and I take a moment to survey our success: a truck full of stuff I managed to pack up in less than forty-eight hours.

“Come on, man.” Teller scoffs. “Why is this Nope person so off-limits?”

“Her name’s Olivia, and she lives a thousand miles away.” My shoulders hitch. “Colorado, last time I checked.”

“Ah.” Teller hoists a brow. “So you’re saying you’ve kept tabs on her.”

Busted.

“What can I say?” I push a crooked smile across my face. “She’s smart and beautiful. She made me laugh. So yeah. I might’ve looked her up. Once. Okay, twice.” I chuckle. “And from what I could tell, she changes guys like she changes outfits. I get the feeling she likes being a temporary trophy. Arm candy, you know? Then she moves on to the next guy after the photo ops are used up. For a while there, she was literally dating a photographer.”

“But you said you don’t want a girlfriend,” Teller points out. “Maybe temporary arm candy’s the way to go.”

“Did you miss the part where she lives in Colorado?”

“Even better.” Teller’s lip hooks like a caught fish. “No chance of anything getting serious. You could just message her to find out if she’s ever going to be in your neck of the woods again. Tell her you’re still talking about that dare.”

My mouth twitches into a smirk. “I’m not still talking about the dare. You are.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is a two-way conversation. So I say, go for Nope.”

I fork my fingers through my hair, spiking it off my forehead. “Even if I hadn’t sworn off relationships, I don’t need any distractions from my job. The Johnsons are good people, and they’re really counting on me to turn things around for them.”

Teller shakes his head. “You’re such a Boy Scout.”

“You say that like being a good guy’s a bad thing.”

I sock him in the shoulder, then slide the door to the U-Haul shut with a slam. I’m just locking up the back, when a black town car rolls past my building. It continues at a crawl up the street. The driver must be searching for space at the curb.

“My dad’s here,” I say.

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