Page 30 of Boss Daddy

“Sorry, just roommate stuff.”

“All good?”

“As good as it can be, I guess.”

I climb into the passenger seat. Before Samuel closes the door, I glance up at my place one last time. Tiffany is standing on the tiny fire escape, arms wrapped around herself, her face a pale blur in the dark.

I lift my hand in a small wave, the gesture feeling hollow and empty.

She doesn’t wave back.

Samuel closes the door then walks around and gets in. I don’t know if I’m leaving danger behind or if it’s following me, but one thing is clear: there’s no turning back now.

Chapter 11

Samuel

“Wow… and you said this place wasn’t fancy,” Erin mumbles as we arrive at my cabin after coasting up the long driveway surrounded by trees

We step inside, Erin’s bags in my hands. I flick on the lights, the soft glow spilling across the vast space—dark wood floors, ivory walls, clean lines, minimalist furniture.

No clutter. Just how I like it.

Erin steps in behind me, her eyes widening as she looks in every direction. Her gaze sweeps over the open floor concept, lingering on the kitchen for a beat before drifting to the wall of windows framing the dark forest outside, glowing in the moonlight.

“Nice place, Holt.”

I arch an eyebrow, setting her bags down by the couch. “You sound surprised.”

Her laugh is low and rich, like a slow pour of whiskey. “Not surprised. But I can tell you’re single.”

I cross my arms over my chest, a grin spreading across my face. “Oh? What gave it away? The lack of throw pillows or the absence of scented candles?”

She takes a step forward. “Both. There’s also not a single houseplant struggling for its life. That’s the true sign of a bachelor pad.”

I chuckle. “Keeping a plant alive would be a tall order for me. Unless I brought it to work and put it on the bar where I could keep an eye on it.”

She taps a finger against her chin, considering. “So, if I ever see a fern or a peace lily in here, I should assume you’ve become completely domestic?”

“You see a plant like that here, you can assume I’ve been kidnapped and someone stole my pad.”

She grins. The weight of the night, the anger still simmering in my veins, fades a little when she smiles.

“So,” she says, “no houseplants, no pets. What do you have to keep you company?”

“Don’t need any. I’m not here enough to worry about getting lonely.”

The playful spark in her eyes dims, replaced by something softer, something deeper.

I clear my throat, forcing a smile onto my face. “Well, now that you’re here, maybe the place will be a little livelier.”

Her eyes dance with mischief again, that edge I’ve come to crave returning full force. “Don’t get too excited. I snore.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

I know I shouldn’t be enjoying this—enjoyingher—as much as I am. But damn if I can stop myself.

I carry her bags down the hall to the guest room. I open the door and flick on the light. The room is simple—a cozy bed, nightstand with a lamp, and a large dresser. The walls are bare. Functional, nothing more.

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