Page 3 of Claiming My Cocky Boss

I let out an exasperated sigh, shaking my head. “You know how I feel about those types. Guys like that only care about themselves. And even if they don’t, they smother the hell out of you.”

Suffocating. That’s the word that comes to mind. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve felt trapped in relationships. Initially, each man appeared to be the perfect match—sophisticated, driven, and successful. However, my interest waned when they started probing about my delayed text responses. Or my preference for weekend hikes with my dog over upscale dining and networking functions related to their professions. And the worst part? They never seemed to understand where I was coming from.

“Smother you? Or... spoil you?” Tessa raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting.

“Smother,” I corrected, kicking a small rock off the path. “I like being able to breathe. Do what I want, when I want. No strings attached, no drama. Just me and Daisy, living our best lives.”

Sure, it sounded like I was all about the peace and freedom of it, but part of me knew I just didn’t want the hassle of letting anyone in. The last guy I’d let close had been charming—until he wanted to know everything I did, every moment of every day. That’s when I started pushing him away, just like the ones before him. Daisy, my friends, and, well, the collection of toys in my trusty nightstand drawer were more than enough for me. They didn’t ask for more than I was willing to give.

Tessa sighed dramatically, brushing off a leaf from her hoodie. “Yeah, yeah. You and your whole ‘freedom’ thing. Personally, I wouldn’t mind a little spoiling here and there.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna start dating the tourists now? Maybe catch yourself a sugar daddy?” I teased, nudging Tessa with my elbow.

“I’m just saying,” she smirked, “I wouldn’t hate a guy with a six-figure paycheck taking me out to nice dinners every once in a while. You, on the other hand, are happy being a nature-loving hermit.”

“Damn right I am,” I said, grinning as Daisy barked happily at a rabbit and sniffed at the ground. “You can keep your city boys. I’ll stick to my quiet, simple life. No drama, no bullshit.”

Of course, simple didn’t always mean perfect. But I’d take quiet evenings on the couch with Daisy over suffocating expectations any day. That’s the thing about relationships: they always started off fun, but they ended up being work—work I wasn’t interested in. Why bother when I could have everything I needed without the emotional headache?

“Boring,” Tessa sing-songed, flipping her hair over her shoulder as we continued walking. “One day, you’re gonna meet a guy who knocks that ‘no drama’ rule of yours right out of the park.”

“I’d bet you fifty bucks that never happens.”

“Oh, it’s happening. You’ll see. It’ll be some tall, brooding guy with stacked abs who makes you rethink everything.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, right. And then I’ll wake up.”

Tessa just smiled knowingly. “Whatever you say, Mia,” she said, eyes scanning the trees as she changed the subject. “Hey, isn’t that the type of bird you like? The one that makes that weird call? What’s the name of it?”

I listened for a second before smiling. “Tufted Titmouse.”

“Of course, you’d know that,” Tessa said, shaking her head in amazement. “You’re like a nature encyclopedia.”

I shrugged. “I never forget bird songs. It’s just one of those things.”

“Girl, if I could remember anything that well, I’d never forget where I put my damn keys.”

“Maybe you need a key holder in the shape of a Titmouse,” I teased, and we both laughed, walking further into the woods.

By the time we got back from the walk, I was already running a bit late for finishing my shift at the gatehouse. Tessa waved me off as I jogged over, Daisy trailing behind lazily.

“You better hope you don’t get some Karen giving you shit for being late,” she teased, already heading back toward the gift shop.

I gave her a mock salute. “If I do, I’ll send her your way.”

The gatehouse was small, with a perfect view of the incoming cars and the stretch of forest behind me. I relieved the volunteer who had filled in while I was on break and slid into my seat. I pulled the logbook closer, ready to start my usual routine of checking passes and answering dumb questions about whether the park had Wi-Fi. As if anyone who came here to “escape” really wanted to disconnect. I rolled my eyes at the thought and stared out the window, waiting for the next car to roll through.

It didn’t take long. A shiny black truck pulled up, looking way too clean for someone about to go hiking. It definitely didn’t belong to a regular. I glanced up at the driver and nearly did a double-take. Darkish hair, a strong jaw, and a face that could easily be on the cover of GQ. Great. Another rich guy from Dallas slumming it in the woods for the day.

The window rolled down, and I leaned out with my best professional smile. “Good afternoon. Got your pass?”

He flashed it without much effort, barely looking at me, his eyes focused on something in the distance. But just as I went tohand it back, his gaze finally shifted toward me. Our eyes met for a split second, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice low and smooth. Then, before I could even process that, he winked.

Winked.

I blinked, momentarily thrown off my game, but quickly recovered. “You’re good to go, Mr. Archer,” I said, handing the pass back with an awkward cough. Then I added, “Enjoy, but remember the park closes in two hours.”

---