Page 147 of Dear Grumpy Boss

My heart hammered against my ribs. This wasn’t anger, though. A wave of panic mixed with helplessness slammed into me.

“That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t think—”

“No, I know what you were thinking about.”

He didn’t say it, but we both knew where my thoughts had lain.

“I don’t know how to be any different.” That was the stark, raw truth. This had been my entire identity for so long, changing was incredibly fucking daunting.

But the alternative, losing Elise forever, was unacceptable.

And I might have already done that.

“Then you need to figure it out. At this point, you haven’t only lost Elise. Where she goes, Elliot goes too.”

With that parting shot, Luca sauntered off, heading toward the treadmills.

I had a lot to think about. Serious changes to make if I wanted a chance at making things right with Elise. And Elliot, for that matter.

What Marisol said to me when she rejected my marriage idea had been laughable then, but now it struck a powerful chord. I was proud and loved what I’d built with Andes, but compared to my love for Elise, one didn’t come close to touching the other.

It was Elise. It had always been Elise.

I still wasn’t convinced I was good enough for her, but I was certain if I lost every other thing in my life and only had her, I would have absolutely everything.

I had a lot of work to do. Luckily, work was the one thing I was good at.

Chapter Thirty-seven

Elise

GoingtoWyominghadbeen the right decision.

I still felt like a vital part of me had wilted, but while I was there, I didn’t have time to concentrate on the loss. The ranch wasn’t only a ranch, it was a luxury resort. So when Saoirse and I weren’t brushing horses and cooing over newborn calves, we were getting massages and spa treatments. Then we visited with her brother, Lock, and his wife, Elena. They had two kids who were all over the place, entertaining and sassy.

The dread only returned when we touched down in Denver.

That part of me was still wilted. My heart ached so badly I kept touching my chest, expecting it to be tender, but this ache was deep down.

I told myself at least the worst was over. I couldn’t be rejected again. It had already happened.

Now, I was about getting on with my life.

I had no choice.

Rebecca greeted me with her signature flair when I passed by her reception desk. I’d brought her back a postcard of cowboys wearing nothing but boots, covering their dicks with their hats. She told me it was going on the front of her refrigerator so Sam would pick up on her newfound cowboy kink and invest in some chaps.

I stupidly thought everything was going to be okay, but when I sat down at my desk, I was proven wrong.

A single Post-it.

As harmless as those fluffy white caterpillars with toxic pin-cushion hair.

I shoved it with my pen. I did not want the thing on my desk.

But it wasn’t budging, and my eyes weren’t avoiding the neatly written black print standing out in stark relief on the square of yellow paper.

A study showed that couples’ heartbeats synchronize

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