Page 44 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

“Isabella has asked the same question.”

“What is the answer?” I begged to know.

“She’s been waiting for me to figure that out. It’s why I’m back to almost a blank board.” Miles stepped closer to me. Close enough I could share in his warmth. Close enough to make my pulse race. “I have a feeling that maybe together we can find the answer . . . for her, of course,” he stammered and took a step back.

I took a step away too. “I’m not sure I can help her or you. I can’t even figure it out for myself.”

“Perhaps if you look at it through someone else’s eyes, you’ll figure it out.”

“How do I do that?”

“Well, for starters, I was hoping you would be willing to read what little I’ve written so far. What I’ve kept, that is.”

“I accept,” I said quickly, with probably too much exuberance.

Miles chuckled at me. “That is not all. I need to immerse myself in this town. Sophie always hoped I would use Carrington Cove as a location for one of my stories. The way she talked of it always intrigued me, but I need to feel it all for myself. I think it will help to get the creative juices flowing again. And who better to show me around than you?”

My entire face must have said what I was feeling. Oh! As in oh, what will people say if they see us together? And oh, was it safe for my heart?

“Is that a problem?” Miles responded to the question written on my face.

“What about Henry?” Yes, Henry was a great excuse.

“He would come with us,” he said it like that solved everything.

What did I use for an excuse now? “Well . . .” I rubbed my lips together. “I suppose I could.”

He clapped his hands. “Brilliant. We’ll start tomorrow, after a dance video. My publisher is begging we put more up. After that, we’ll hit the town together.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. I was stunned at this turn of events.

Even more stunned when Miles said, “I knew from the moment we met, you would be good for me.”

But are you good for me, Miles?Chapter SeventeenI can’t say how odd it felt to have all four of us in the car dropping off Chloe for school. Not only were we doing it in style in Miles’s Range Rover, but it felt familial. Miles asked Chloe about what her day had in store for her while Henry happily pointed out everything from horses in a nearby pasture to the blinking school zone lights. Meanwhile, I uploaded a video of Miles and Henry dancing to Pink Floyd’s “Learning to Fly.” It seemed apropos. I couldn’t help but smile, remembering them both with stretched out arms as if they were flying, circling around the room. I captioned the video, “Cutest Copilot Ever.” Henry certainly was.

I tucked my phone away when I was done and reveled in the conversation. Chloe and Miles were talking about soccer, though Miles kept insisting on calling it football.

“Do you run the blind shot drill?” Miles asked Chloe.

“No. What’s that?”

“It helps with reaction speed. As the name indicates, you are blind to where the ball is coming from. You stand at the goal line facing away from your partner who yells right before she takes the shot, giving you time to turn, react, and adjust.”

“Ooh. I like that. Can we run that drill tonight at practice, Mom?”

“Sure.” I was loving being able to coach with Emma.

“I played for my University’s Football club. I would be happy to give pointers, if welcome,” Miles offered.

“Only if you admit the word soccer originated in the UK,” I teased him.

His laughter filled the car. “Remind me to google that.”

“Maybe you could come to one of my games?” Chloe asked. “We’re undefeated so far this season.”

“I would be honored. If that is all right with your mum.” Miles glanced my way.

“If you have the time, yes, you are more than welcome to come,” I responded. It wasn’t often Chloe took to people so easily. For her sake, I didn’t want to push him away. That was a good story. One I was sticking to.

“Excellent.” Miles turned into her school. “I’ll plan on it.”

Once we dropped Chloe off, Miles turned to me. “So where to?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you are looking for?”

Miles turned out of the school parking lot. “Will it ruin it for you if I give you a brief synopsis of the book?”

Uh, no. I had been hoping last night for a copy of what little he had already written of his unfinished manuscript to start devouring it, but he said he wanted to go through it one more time before he shared it with me. “Honestly, I like to know what I’m getting into. I’m the worst movie goer; I always look up spoilers. And I admit to sometimes reading the ending of a book if I’m really worried how it will turn out.”

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