Page 44 of Taming the Boss

I fought off a shiver. The air conditioning in this store was relentless.

Uh huh, that was why I was shivering. Not the kind of thoughts I was having.

“Baddie? Baddie?” Owen gripped the pocket of my shorts, dancing in place as he held his stuffed fish pointing to the candy. “Spot wants a candy bar.”

It took me a second to figure out who Spot was. Clearly, his new spotted fish. Duh.

“Oh, he does, does he? Does he have a preference, or is he open to experimentation?”

Once again, my thoughts veered naughty places. Jeez, what was my problem today? It was super hot outside, but thanks to the AC, that wasn’t a problem in here. Normally, hot weather didn’t send my thoughts straight into the gutter.

More like you don’t typically spend the better part of a day with a hot as hell, much older man.

Was he much older? Not as if he’d given me any indication of his age. But he just seemed far more mature than guys my own age.

“Baddie, candy?”

“Which one do you want, slugger?” I ruffled his hair again, swallowing a sigh when he ducked under my hand to escape and grabbed a King-size chocolate bar to throw in the already almost full cart. What the hell, not like saving a few cents would matter at this point.

The line inched forward and we were finally able to check out our purchases. Once the cashier totaled our order at just over one hundred bucks, I swiped my credit card and prayed we wouldn’t be humiliated.

Owen didn’t need that. Neither did I, for that matter.

When the checkout girl tugged out our long receipt and thanked me, I sent up a quick prayer of relief and we rolled our cart up to the glass doors just as a loud crack of thunder sounded overhead.

Of course. Why not? Now we were going to get poured on too.

“C’mon, kiddo. We can stand under the overhang outside while we wait for your dad.”

And he better be coming soon or you’re going to get to see me kick his ass, right here in the parking lot.

Owen gripped my hand and clutched his fish to his chest as we headed out. It was fucking pouring, so hard the water was bouncing off the pavement. But we only had to stand and get drenched for maybe a moment before the sleek Jag cruised to a stop in front of us.

Thank God.

Jude rushed to climb out and open my door before he did the same for the backseat and picked up Owen to get him into his car seat.

Apparently, endless rain improved his moves.

But he forgot about the cart full of stuff I’d just mortgaged my future to buy until I reminded him with a terse question just as he slid back in the driver’s seat. He hit some hidden lever and climbed out again to swerve the cart toward the back of the car.

By the speed he unloaded, I feared most of the stuff would be crushed—possibly even the loaf of bread and the pint of fresh berries I’d picked up with whipped cream because Owen had asked for them.

Whatever. I’d done my part. If Jude messed stuff up, that would be on him.

And hey, he’d bought me four tires—or he would, if Dare ever surfaced with my car. The tire buying wasn’t permanent, and I’d be paying him back, but it wouldn’t be quick unless Jude was going to pay me well.

Very well.

Which we would need to talk about before I did anything else for him. I couldn’t just assume I’d be well-compensated for a job I hadn’t even officially been hired for.

But I also was not going to discuss any of this in front of Owen. I had a feeling he understood more than we were giving him credit for.

“Are you intending to feed all the neighborhood children too?” Jude asked as he slipped in behind the wheel, his drenched dark hair now plastered to his head.

Yet it didn’t make him seem any less attractive.

“Why? Can’t your refrigerator handle our selections? Or is it too small?”

---