Page 40 of Forbidden Grumpy Boss

I run a hand through my hair. “Caleb’s got a school dance in a few weeks, and he’s freaking out about not being able to dance.”

Leah blinks, processing. “A school dance?”

I nod. “He thinks he’s going to embarrass himself. I figured this would be a good opportunity for us to, you know, do the whole fake-parent thing. Be there for him.”

She hits me with her purse. “What the hell, Silas?” She tries to hit me again, but I step back. “Oh, my—” She clasps her chest, her hand above her heart, “Your text made me think something was wrong with—Oh, my heart.”

I stare at her, blinking as a grin spread on my face. “I mean, it’s a parenting emergency.” I can’t stifle my chuckle.

“Fuck you.” She covers her face with her hands. “Oh, fuck you, Silas.”

“So, what do you say?” I stick my hands into my shorts’ pockets.

She stares daggers at me and then huffs. “It’s a good idea. Though, full disclosure, I’m a terrible dancer.”

I grin, stepping closer to her, the tension between us shifting into something warmer. “Don’t worry. I’ll lead.”

She rolls her eyes but stands up, smoothing down her dress. "Fine, let’s see what you’ve got."

The earlier stress melts away as we sit on the couch, close enough that her perfume, something light and floral, wraps around me. I realize I haven’t brought a lady home in forever. It’s often the last thing on my mind with a teenager in the house.

I call Caleb down from his room. “Leah, hi.” He smiles shyly at her, his Nintendo Switch in his hands. “I didn’t know you were staying the night.”

She glances at me as if to ask,am I?I don’t look at her. I focus on Caleb. “We have the answer to your problem, Cale.”

Caleb frowns. “Dad, you know I don’t like it when you call me that.”

I raise a hand and stand. “Alright, the jury’s still out on the nickname until I find something better.” I smile at him and look at Leah, staring at him as if seeing me for the first time. “Your dance.”

Caleb joins Leah on the couch but doesn’t stop slamming keys on his Switch. “What about it?”

“You said something about being a bad dancer, right?”

“Do you have a date?” Leah asks him, and to my surprise, he sets his Switch aside and looks her straight in the eye.

“Camilla Merlon.” He nods. “She asked me to accompany her to the dance, and I said yes.” He slaps his forehead. “I said yes even though I can’tfriggin’dance.”

“Language.” I raise both hands.

“Friggin’ isn’t a curse word,” Leah and Caleb say at the same time, exchange glances and then chuckle. “High five!” She raises her hand, and Caleb slams his hand against it.

“Way to gang up on me,” I try to sound as hurt as possible. “So, about this dance . . .”

“You can’t help me, Dad.” Caleb picks up his Switch from the couch. “I’m just going to stand Camilla up. I’d rather do that than embarrass myself on the dance floor in front of everybody.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, buddy,” I say, walking over to put on an old-school blue and then taking Leah’s hand. “I can help.”

I guide Leah into the middle of the living room, her hand fitting perfectly into mine, her body pressing against me in a way that’s far too intimate for what we’re doing. Caleb watches us wide-eyed as I start leading Leah through a simple waltz.

"See? Easy," I murmur. “All you have to do is feel the music.”

"Easy for you to say," Leah whispers back, her breath warm against my neck.

We move together, our bodies finding a rhythm that feels too natural, too right. The music is in the background, but it’s the heat between us that I’m focused on. Every step brings us closer, every touch sending a jolt through my body.

Caleb laughs, and I realize Leah’s stepped on my foot.

"Told you," she mutters, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

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