Page 34 of Boss Daddy

I take a deep breath. I’ve only been here for part of a day, but the thought of leaving this place makes my chest tighten. Here, I’m safe. Here, the walls are solid, the locks firm, the shadows held at bay.

It feelstoogood. Too stable.

A girl could get used to this.The safety. The luxury.Him.

I push the thought down, locking it away with everything else I can’t afford to want. This isn’t permanent. It can’t be. I know better than to let myself hope for anything more.

Turning away from his door, I head for the stairs. There’s a whole second floor, and I want to see it. As I reach the top of the stairway, I notice the first door to my right leads into a large home gym, filled with weights and cardio machines. Samuel’s in killer shape; the gym explains that.

Another door leads to an office, stately and imposing. Beyond that is a cozy library, complete with a gas fireplace.

This man sure knows how to live.

I reach the final door, laughing when I see what’s inside.

A polished pool table gleams under overhead lights in the middle of the room. There’s a wet bar, a dart board, a shelf of board games, and a small sitting area. A humidor’s tucked into the corner.

I grab a stick, head over to the pool table, and rack the balls. The weight of the cue stick is familiar in my hands. With everything going on, this feels like control—a simple game with clear rules and satisfying outcomes.

I bend over the table, eyes narrowed, lining up a particularly tricky shot. My tongue peeks between my teeth as I focus, my fingers steady on the cue. The world narrows to the geometry of the table, the sharp angles, and the path of the ball.

Just as I’m about to take the shot, a low throat-clearing slices through the silence.

I squeal, straightening so fast I nearly drop the stick. My heart leaps into my throat, adrenaline shooting through me. I spin around, holding the stick like a weapon, ready to jab whoever decided to creep up on me.

Samuel stands in the doorway, hands raised in surrender, that infuriatingly sexy smirk curving his lips. His eyes sparkle with amusement, glinting under the soft lighting.

“Whoa,” he says. “Didn’t plan to die today.”

I press a hand to my chest, my heart pounding, but the tension seeps out of me like a deflating balloon. Laughter slips free before I can stop it. “You should know better than to sneak up on a girl holding a big stick.”

He chuckles. “Sorry, should’ve been a little more considerate, especially with everything going on.”

“It’s fine. Seriously. Don’t blame yourself for me being jumpy. It’s not like you grabbed me and shouted boo.”

He steps into the room, his movements fluid and deliberate, like a predator who knows exactly what kind of effect he has.

“Do you play?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the pool table, “or are you just threatening innocent bystanders?” He grins and my fingers tighten on the cue stick, the challenge sparking something reckless inside me. I lift my chin, smirking back.

“Been known to play a little. You don’t work in bars all your life without picking up a few things here and there.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”

“Only if you’re up for one.”

His eyes lock onto mine. A delicious shiver snakes down my spine, but I don’t back down. His gaze drops to my lips, then slides back up.

“You want to make it interesting?” I ask.

The corner of his mouth lifts, his gaze burning into me. “What did you have in mind?”

I can smell the faint hint of his cologne—dark, musky, intoxicating. My mind flashes to things that have nothing to do with pool and everything to do with the way his body would feel against mine.

I shrug. “Friendly match. Maybe one-pocket, if you’re into that.”

“I am. Just need to grab a stick.”

He steps over and reaches for the cue stick I’m holding, his fingers brushing mine. The contact is brief, but it sets my skin on fire.

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