Page 19 of Claiming My Cocky Boss

“Oh, I see, Mr. Perfection,” I teased, but there was a soft edge to my voice. “You don’t always have to do everything on your own, Liam.”

He didn’t respond right away, and for a second, I thought I might have crossed a line. But then he looked at me, his gaze steady, and there was something unspoken in the air between us.

“Thanks for this, Mia,” he said quietly. “I know I can be... intense. But this is important.”

I nodded, feeling a jolt of electricity spread through me for the umpteenth time. “I get it. Just... don’t forget you’re not invincible. You can’t just boss everyone around.”

He smirked, the cockiness creeping back in. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my lips. Instead, I just shook my head and looked away, my heart pounding a little harder than I’d like to admit. Damn him for being so irritatingly charming.

We sat in silence for a few moments, the fire crackling softly in the background. The banter between us had shifted again—less sharp, more... something else. Something I didn’t want to name just yet.

Then, before I could react, Liam reached out, gently taking my hand in his. His thumb brushed over my knuckles in a way that made me smile. He looked up, his expression softening as his lips pressed lightly against my hand.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice sincere, breaking through the layers of cockiness. “For everything.”

For a second, I couldn’t move. The sudden vulnerability in his words, paired with the tenderness of the kiss, caught me off guard. I lingered there, my hand in his, feeling the tension and connection between us shift yet again.

But reality settled in quickly. I pulled my hand away, standing up and reminding myself where the boundaries were supposed to be. I couldn’t afford to blur them any further.

“I should get ready for bed,” I said, the words coming out more abruptly than I intended. “It’s a workday tomorrow, and you should sleep in the spare room instead of on the couch. You need to rest that ankle properly and keep from messing it up even more.”

He smirked, leaning back against the couch with that confident ease that made my stomach flip. “So now you’re the one giving orders, huh?”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him. “Well, somebody has to be the responsible one around here.”

Liam chuckled softly, his eyes locking with mine in a way that made it hard to look away. “Who’s being bossy now, Mia?”

Nine

Liam

A Few Weeks Later

The Uber pulled up in front of my cabin, the tires rolling to a slow stop on the driveway. I let out a long, frustrated sigh. This wasn’t the return I had been hoping for. I grabbed my crutches, opened the door, and carefully maneuvered myself out of the car. The cool air hit me as I stood, leaning heavily on my crutches, and I fought the urge to curse under my breath.

"Thanks," I muttered to the driver, who gave me a nod before pulling away, leaving me standing there, staring at the cabin that had felt like a prison ever since I’d returned home from Mia’s place.

The doctor’s words echoed in my head as I hobbled toward the porch."You’ll need a few more weeks before you can even think about driving again, Mr. Archer. It’s important that you let your ankle heal properly."I had wanted to argue with him, to push back and say I could handle it, but I knew it wouldn’t change a damn thing.

I’d been hoping to hear something different, something that gave me a little more freedom. But no—more rest, more time, more sitting on my ass while the world kept spinning around me. I was a guy used to being in control, calling the shots. Now, I couldn’t even get in my own truck without risking making things worse.

By the time I reached the front door, my ankle was throbbing, and my mood had sunk even lower. I fumbled with the keys and shoved the door open, stepping into the cabin with a deep sigh. The place was quiet—too quiet. Mia had come over to help with my work in the evenings, and even though I’d grown accustomed to the solitude during the day, I’d started missing her presence when she wasn’t around.

I leaned my crutches against the wall, tossed my keys onto the nearby table, and limped over to the couch. The cabin might’ve felt like home for a while, but right now, it was the last place I wanted to be. I wanted to be out there, working, getting back into my life. But instead, here I was.

Sinking into the cushions, my ankle propped up on the coffee table for comfort, the hope to drown out frustrations with closed eyes was interrupted by a buzzing phone in my pocket. Retrieving it, half expecting a message from the doctor’s office, but seeing Derek's name on the screen shifted the mood instantaneously.

DEREK: Don’t forget about the Riverstone gala this weekend in San Antonio. Big event, big donors. I expect to see you there.

I stared at the text for a moment, feeling the familiar pull of obligation settle in. Derek’s charity work for the children’s hospital was something I respected, but right now, the thoughtof attending a gala in my current state felt like another weight added to my already full plate.

Still, I knew I couldn’t blow it off. This wasn’t just about showing up—it was about making connections and keeping up appearances. And knowing Derek, he was probably expecting me to charm a few potential clients for Edgewater as well. The problem was, I wasn’t exactly in a position to drive myself there, let alone play the part of the smooth businessman.

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