Page 14 of Tangled Vows

“Alright. Okay. I get it.” His hands were still held up in surrender, but now he was cowering slightly. It took me a second to realize my hand was fisted in his shirt, and I was leaning over him. I quickly released him and stepped back. He brushed his hands down his chest and eyed me with a mix of trepidation and fury.

Weiss and Tillman walked in, breaking the tension, and soon the rest of the team followed. I tried to focus on my workout, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Shayla. The way her hips felt in my hands and how her body fit against mine. There was no way she hadn’t felt my erection even though I’d hurried to put space between us as soon as it pressed against her. But what plagued me the most was the look on her face before she left, after I’d treated her with cool indifference and avoided looking at her when my teammates entered the room. I’d tried to pretend like I hadn’t just been hard for her only minutes before. I’d tried to put enough distance between us so we didn’t raise any suspicions, but she’d looked upset.

Finally, I gave up. I needed to talk to her. I wasn’t sure what I planned to say, but I didn’t like this unsettled feeling in my gut.

Slipping out of the weight room, I made my way to the third floor where Shayla’s office was located. I was coming down thehall when her door abruptly opened, and Gerald March stepped out. He pulled the door shut behind him and turned toward me, his mouth pinched in irritation. His lip curled in disgust when he noticed me heading in his direction.

“Walker,” he said, his voice tight.

“Mr. March,” I replied, attempting to remain respectful even though I didn’t care much for the team lawyer. The feeling was mutual. He'd made it known all through contract negotiations that he didn’t like me and didn’t think I deserved a spot on the team.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked, his tone indicating I didn’t belong, like I was beneath him because I didn’t wear a suit and work in an office every day. I had no idea what his issue was with me, but it had been evident from the first encounter we had over a video conference that he wasn’t a fan.

“I was looking for Shayla.” I nodded to her shut office door.

“She’s not available at the moment,” he declared, the unflinching stoicism I’d grown accustomed to sliding into place. It was the expression he bore when something displeased him, like when the Wraiths chose to sign me despite his protestations.

There was a commotion in Shayla’s office like someone had just slammed a drawer shut. She was definitely in there, but for some reason, he didn’t want me to speak with her.

My gaze flicked to the door briefly before settling on Gerald again. His jaw tightened in irritation, and his eyes narrowed on me.

“Is she in there?”

“She. Isn’t. Available,” he repeated, his lip turning up more with each word until he wore a full-blown sneer. “You’ll need to make an appointment if you want to see her.”

“I just need to talk to her for a mo?—”

He cut me off, stepping into my space, his nostrils flaring as he lowered his voice.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Walker,” he began, his tone laced with contempt, “you have a bad habit of sticking your dick where it doesn’t belong.” My jaw clenched, and my teeth ground together as he pinned me with his haughty glare. He had a lot of nerve bringing that up here. It was a stain upon my character, one I was trying to erase before anyone saw it.

I snorted out a derisive laugh, trying to hide the discomfort of having my indiscretions thrown in my face.

“Don’t worry, Mr. March, I never put my dick where it isn’t wanted,” I replied, tired of trying to play nice with this dick weasel.

“That may be so,” he began, taking a final menacing step toward me. He stood so close, I could smell the coffee on his breath and make out the silver starburst rimming his pupils against the backdrop of his piercing gray irises. There was something familiar about his eyes, but before I could figure out where I recognized them from, he continued. “But you’re walking a thin line. One fuck up and you’re finished. The Wraiths won’t tolerate another scandal. So I suggest you keep it in your pants and stay away from my daughter.”

Hisdaughter?

Those two words hit me in the chest, and I stumbled back a step. How had I missed it? How had I not known he was Shayla’s dad?

I searched my recent memory for any mention of their connection. I wasn’t sure if I’d even heard her last name before. The plaque outside her door was bare. Everyone called her Shayla or Shay, not Ms. March. Then I remembered. It was written on the front of the binder she’d given me that first day, the one I’d thrown in the back seat of my SUV and never looked at again.

A sinking feeling gathered in my gut. He was the team lawyer. He was warning me to stay away from Shayla. He’d justbeen inside her office, and he looked ready to strangle me. Had she told him about our encounter in the weight room? I’d had my hands all over her. Hell, I’d had my hard dick pressed against her back, if only for a moment. Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed it as much as I thought. Fuck, maybe I’d made her uncomfortable, and that was the last thing I wanted to.

No wonder he looked at me like I was the scum of the earth. I swallowed hard and nodded, a silent promise to do as he asked. I would try to stay away from Shayla, and I’d definitely keep my hands to myself when she was around. Little did I know, that would be harder than I thought.

12

SHAYLA

No.

The word reverberated in my head like a mallet striking a gong. I’d asked my father for help, and he’d turned me down. Now I was out of options. Short of selling pictures of my feet online, there was nothing I could do to help my mother pay for her treatments. The chemo and radiation she needed would cost her thousands. And that was just what insurance didn’t cover. Her meds alone would cost more than what I could make hosting several cooking classes per week. And if I pushed myself like that again, combined with the stress of caring for her, I could have another flare up. I could barely function the first time, back when we had no idea it was Hashimoto's causing the extreme fatigue, unexplained weight gain, and brain fog. I never wanted to go through that again, especially not now that I had my dream job and my health under control.

There was a simple solution to this problem, but my father refused to entertain the idea. The small trust fund my grandfather set up before he passed was more than enough to get us through. But the man was old school and apparentlybelieved a single woman in her twenties couldn’t possibly be capable of handling large sums of money. My father, as the executor, had the power to release the funds early, but he was adamantly against it. It didn’t matter what I said, he wouldn’t change his mind.

Anger surged through me at the thought of his refusal. It would take so little effort for him to sign a few papers and let me have the money. It wasn’t like I was going to go out and blow it all on something meaningless. This was my mother’s health and life at stake. She was barely keeping her head above water as it was. She would drown under the weight of any more debt.

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