Page 11 of Claiming My Cocky Boss

I chuckled, though the thought of maneuvering the rocky trails near my cabin on crutches was a nightmare.

We made our way out of the hospital, Mia keeping a steady pace beside me as I limped along. By the time we reached her truck, I was sweating more from the effort than I cared to admit.

“Let me tell you how to get to my place,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat.

Mia shot me a sidelong glance, fastening her seatbelt. “Actually, I was going to suggest something else.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“There’s no way you’re staying alone at your place,” she said, her voice firm. “You can barely walk. You need help, and until I’m convinced you can handle things on your own, you’re staying with me.”

I blinked, taken aback by her bluntness. “With you? In your cabin?”

“Yep. In the spare room.” She started the truck, pulling out of the parking lot. “You don’t really have a choice, so don’t argue.”

I opened my mouth to argue anyway, but the look on her face made it clear it wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I sighed, sinking back into the seat. “Okay, fine. But just for a couple of days.”

She flashed a quick grin. “We’ll see.”

As we drove through the winding roads back to the park, I couldn’t shake the weird flutter in my chest. Staying with Mia... It wasn’t something I’d planned for, but the idea wasn’t exactly terrible. If anything, it felt like the best thing to happen in weeks.

I glanced over at her. She was focused on the road, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, her grip on the steering wheel firm and sure. She wasn’t just a soft touch. Mia was practical, strong-willed—the kind of woman who didn’t tolerate bullshit.

And here I was, sitting next to her, lying through my teeth about who I was. I wasn’t just a private investigator nursing a bum ankle. I was the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company, hunting down an embezzler. The lies were stacking up, and I wasn’t sure how long I could keep them straight.

As we pulled into the park, the truck bouncing along the dirt road, my ankle throbbed with each jolt. I braced myself against the dashboard, grimacing.

“You good?” Mia asked, glancing over at me as we slowed near her cabin.

“Yeah, just... my ankle,” I muttered, hoping to steer the conversation away from anything too personal. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

She smirked, shaking her head as she parked. “Right. Because hobbling around on crutches is your idea of handling things perfectly.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”

“Well, I’m giving you a break from this one,” she said, turning off the engine. “Let’s get you inside.”

She came around to my side of the truck, and for a second, I was tempted to wave her off, tell her I didn’t need the help. But when she opened the door and held out her hand, I took it. It wasn’t like I had a choice, anyway. I swung my leg out carefully, biting back a wince as I stood. The crutches helped, but the ground was uneven, and I ended up leaning on Mia more than I wanted to. Not that she seemed to mind.

Her cabin was warm, cozy, and filled with that faint scent of vanilla. Daisy, her golden retriever, trotted over, tail wagging like she was welcoming me home. I scratched behind her ears, earning a happy bark.

“Good girl,” Mia said, patting Daisy on the head. “She’s low maintenance—just food, water, and belly rubs. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from her.”

I laughed as I eased myself onto the couch. “I’ll try.”

Mia disappeared into the kitchen, returning a minute later with two glasses of iced tea. She handed me one, her fingers brushing mine briefly. The touch sent a spark through me that I tried to ignore.

I cleared my throat. “So, what’s the plan? You going to babysit me around the clock?”

She rolled her eyes, sitting down across from me. “I have a job, you know. You’ll be on your own during the day. But I’ll check in, and Daisy will keep an eye on you.”

I smirked, taking a sip of the tea. “Great. Dog-sitting and hobbling around. Should be a blast.”

“Could be worse,” she teased. “I could’ve left you alone at your cabin to fend for yourself.”

“I guess I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” she said, though there was a seriousness beneath her light tone that I couldn’t quite place.

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