Page 2 of Boss Daddy's Girl

"You want me to switch flights for tomorrow. Mr. Evans, you do realize you're sort of asking a lot?" I ask him, already knowing what his answer is going to be.

"Of course. But you can handle it, can't you? I know you can," he says smoothly. And then, as if the idea just occurred to him, he adds, "You could come out too, you know. The offer still stands."

Without even having to ask, I know the offer he's referencing—the standing offer to teach me to climb. I'm the opposite of an athlete, but I can't deny I've considered taking him up on the favor. I can picture it now, hanging from the cliffside with Drake's strong body behind me, his hands helping me position the gear. His arms encircling me as he guides me up the sheer surface. It's an intoxicating idea, but I'm not about to tell him that.

"Thanks, but no thanks. You're the climber, not me."

"I could teach you," he murmurs. "There's nothing quite like the view from on top."

Ignoring the double meaning of his words, I sigh. "Again, no. But I'll make the flight thing happen. Keep an eye out for your new ticket. And don't be late!"

I hear him laugh and roll my eyes. "That's my girl," he all but purrs, and I'm covered in goosebumps all over again. "Don't worry, I'll be there right when you need me to, Ellie. See you tomorrow."

"See you then." I hang up the phone and sit in front of my computer, trying to shake the thought of Drake Evans off before I start. I'm a professional, damn it. He's my boss, not my boyfriend. My brain, however, isn't hearing it, and the thoughts come unbidden even as I pull up the booking page.

"Damn you, Drake Evans."

Unsurprisingly,at 8:20 AM, I find myself repeating the same words from the previous night. This time, under my breath as I try to cram my carry-on in the overhead bin.

"Damn you, Drake Evans..."

"What was that?" the man himself, seated already, asks.

"Nothing."

"Here, let me help you."

I try to finish the job myself before he can assist, but Drake is on his feet in seconds and using his excess height to easily put my luggage away. Drake takes the window seat, his long legs barely fitting in the small space. I take the center seat and pray that the aisle seat remains empty.

"I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, Ellie, but economy class? Really?" Drake has been annoyed all morning, and I get the feeling that he's sorely regretting his choice to fly out in the morning, not just because of the early hour but because he now has to face the consequences of his actions. Even if he's trying to push the blame on me.

I bristle at his tone. "We were comfortably in first class on the 3 o'clock flight, but it was you who wanted to switch. It's honestly a miracle that I was able to get us seats last minute at all, so yes, Mr.Evans. We're flying economy."

He looks at me with a sly grin. "Mr. Evans still? I thought we agreed that you'd call me Drake. We're friends, Ellie."

I bite back a sigh. "You're my boss, Mr. Evans."

He grins, and I know he's just messing with me. "I'd say I'm a lot more than that."

"I think you're mistaking me for the groupies you're used to. You can't just say things like that and expect me to melt for you. I'm a professional."

His hand rests on the armrest, just a breath away from mine. "I'm not talking to a professional. I'm talking to Ellie, my friend who is woefully bad at booking plane seats."

I roll my eyes. "If you're that offended, why don't you just take a private jet next time?"

Instead of scoffing, Drake looks thoughtful and pulls out his phone to make a note. "Now that's the best idea you've had all day. Certainly better than these abysmal seats."

"You're unbelievable." I'm about to turn away when Drake's hand brushes my hair, moving it from my face. I'm startled bythe simple gesture and can feel heat creeping up my neck. I glance up and realize Drake has moved closer to me. "W-what are you doing?"

"Just a stray hair," Drake murmurs, his fingers still brushing the side of my neck. My cheeks flame, and I shift in my seat, leaning away.

"I can manage."

"Sure." Drake moves his hand back and settles into his seat, his leg brushing against mine.

"Can you..." I start, my voice trailing off. Drake turns his head, looking at me expectantly.

"Yes?"

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