Page 8 of My Bossy Valentine

“You have them with me.” We can go to dinner, or she can work all damn night. Whatever she wants. I'm not leaving her side.

Avery swallows and licks her lips. Her gaze drops to my mouth, then back up to meet mine.

My heart skips. I've dreamed of kissing her. Would she want that?

“Are you asking?” She sways closer, her voice breathy.

“Yes.” For all of it. Her kiss, a date, the future. Anything she wants. I brush my fingers over the soft skin of her throat, judging her reaction.

Her eyes flutter and a blush steals over her cheeks.

Cupping my hand behind her neck, I draw her up onto her toes and claim her mouth with mine.

Chapter Five

Avery

Spencer Sullivan, The Grump,is a man I'm very familiar with.ThisSpencer is an enigma. The coffee I understand. But flowers? That caveman routine that, let's be honest, made my panties wet? That soul-melting kiss? None of that matches the surly boss I've worked for the last three months. Then, just as I start to fall under the spell of this new Spencer, he offers me an obscene raise with two extra weeks of vacation.

Bam. Old Spencer.

Of course, he's doing this to keep the secretary he knows. Switching to the unknown in the middle of a big project is almost asking for trouble. I thought that kiss signaled that he liked me, when all he was doing was testing out my willingness to stay.

Afterward, he bundled me into my coat, and we walked the short distance to Lane's lodge so he could talk to the foreman. Ican't call it a cabin when it's almost ten thousand square feet. It's beautiful with its soaring ceilings and picture windows letting in all the natural light. Despite their earlier argument, I'm sure Mr. Lane will be very happy. It suits his grandiose style. I prefer something a little simpler. Maybe a cozy cabin with three or four bedrooms tucked away in the trees where it's peaceful.

It's so beautiful here. Puffy clouds drift across the sky, and I can just see the small town of Hope Peak below. Birds swoop into the trees surrounding us and a layer of snow blankets the ground. I huddle deeper into my coat, pulling my scarf closer. Spencer and the foreman stand a few feet away, overseeing the masonry being added to the house.

“Avery?” I turn to see Travis, one of the tile workers, approaching. “Should you be outside of the trailer while the sun is out? Won't you turn to ash?”

Vampire jokes? I guess I don't get out enough. I smile sweetly. “Fresh blood protects me. Come closer. I'm feeling peckish.”

He laughs. “Any time you call, sweet thing.”

A dark shadow falls over us and I feel warmth against my back. Spencer's scent wraps around me right before I feel his hand on my hip.

“She's not calling,” he growls.

Travis blanches, his nervous gaze bouncing to mine, then down to Spencer's hand. “Sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I didn't realize—”

“See Sam about the tile changes, then get to work. I don't pay you to stand around flirting with my assistant.”

Travis scurries off. I turn to glare at Spencer, but he's not looking at me. His dark glower follows the man until he reaches the foreman.

“What was that about? He was saying hi.”

His eyes glitter with something I can't define when he looks down at me. “Then he can do so respectfully. Let's get back to the office so you can warm up.”

“Why did you want me out here, anyway?”

“I'm not leaving you alone where clients and workmen can accost you.”

This man is unhinged. He scowls at every man on the job site that looks at me as we make our way back. After he practically threw his primary client out earlier and barked at Travis, I should be pissed. I cross my arms over my chest where my nipples have hardened into points. From the cold. I amnotturned on by my grumpy, overly protective boss. No way.

He marches us back up the steps and into the blessed heat of the office. I hang up my coat and scarf, then go to the little kitchenette. “Coffee?”

“No.” There's a beat of silence, then, “I thought the raise might give you some breathing room,” he grumbles.

“It would.”

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