Page 26 of Rich and Bossy

Hazel, what the heck are you doing?

Shut up!

Just do it! Think about it later!

His lips begin to part a little. Mine do too. This is going to be the greatest kiss in the history of sports bar kisses.

Just as our lips are about to meet, the door behind us bursts open.

Instantly, instead of kissing me, Paxton pulls me out of the way of a drunk stumbling outside.

The way he came through the doors, he’s either inebriated, or someone gave him a little assistance out the door.

“Shitty, sorry, guys! Scuuse meh!” He throws up an arm, as he mumbles the words, but he’s already past us. When he’s about twenty feet away he throws up a fist and yells, “Vikings!”

“Little early for that level of drunk.” I turn back to Paxton.

He’s glaring right at that guy.

Wow. It looks like he’s legitimately pissed off that the idiot ruined our kiss.

I’m relieved. That is the last thing I should’ve been doing!

What the heck is wrong with me? It’s like I was in a trance. Brainwashed or something. I have to get out of here.

Just then someone else runs through the door, basically knocking me aside, yelling after the drunk guy. Normally, I’d be pretty pissed, but it sends me directly into Paxton’s big, strong arms.

And oh my god, the sweater is even softer than I imagined. I could go to sleep on it, and the muscles underneath it. It should be illegal for a man to be this built and beautiful at the same time.

He gives me a little squeeze, before I pull away, so it doesn’t look like I’m trying to snuggle him.

“That’s the car.” He walks around to double check the plate on it, before he lets me get inside.

Is he being protective?

Thank God the Uber is here! I need out of this situation, now. I’m not making good decisions.

I’m so focused on leaving, I forget the terms of the deal that got me here in the first place. “Hey!” I glare as I’m getting in the back seat. “What about my fliers?”

Paxton grins while leaning on the Charger, waiting for me to leave. “What about them?” He pats the top of his car like they’re all safe and sound.

“Hang on a sec.” I tell the driver before leaving. Then I lean out the window. “We had a deal. I have a drink and you give me my fliers back.”

“Was that the deal?” He snickers and walks toward the window. “Because from what I remember, all I promised was not to throw them in the trash or have a bonfire with them.”

My face heats up and I can feel it turning red.

He continues. “Someone who’s a stickler for details and wants to start a union should be familiar with fine print.” He forms a devilish grin and steps back. “This can be a learning moment for you. I’m sorry some things are the way they are. But I can’t let you unionize the warehouse. Have to think about my company. I did enjoy this, though, very much.”

Did he really just say all that? Is he really laughing to himself as he walks over to that artistic masterpiece of a car?

“You’re such a…” I pause, my face tight, looking for the perfect word. “Miscreant!” I yell it at him.

He turns around, his shoulders bouncing heavily. “You’re allowed to say asshole, Hazel.” He glances around. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Miscreant is better.”

“Whatever you say.” He snickers, then turns around, his shoulders still bouncing with laughter.

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