Page 64 of Saved By the Boss

He’s got such a dry wit and perfectly crafted sarcasm. I wonder what made him that way, or if he was always like that.

He finally meets my eyes, and there’s a glint of amusement in his gaze.

“So where was home for you?” he asks curiously as he slurps at the soup. “Before ‘middle of nowhere’ Colorado,” he teases with my own words.

“California,” I say, realizing I’m being even vaguer than him. Of course, in my situation, I can’t be too careful about what I reveal to strangers.

“Sunny. You could say we’re from polar opposite sides of the country,” he quips. “You’re probably missing it right about now.”

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I’m not finding this so bad.”

I smile despite myself, taking another bite of soup to keep from saying something stupid.

After we eat, I clear the bowls and rummage through one of the boxes by the bookshelf, pulling out a stack of board games the previous owners left behind.

“Pick one,” I say, setting them on the table in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking over the titles. “Monopoly? Really?”

“Too much commitment?” I tease, plopping down across from him.

“Something like that,” he says, picking up a deck of cards instead. “How about this?”

We settle on a card game, something simple enough to play by firelight. The conversation comes easier now, the awkwardness fading as we trade stories and the occasional joke. He’s careful with his words, though, never giving away too much. Every time I try to steer the conversation toward his past, he redirects it effortlessly, like he’s got something to hide.

Which, of course, only makes me more curious.

At the same time, I know that I’m doing the exact same thing. I keep catching myself, stopping just short of saying too much about my own past. It’s harder than I thought, holding back, especially when he looks at me like he’s actually listening. Like he actually wants to know. It was like we were playing a separate game, one with our minds.

The storm rages outside, the wind howling against the windows, but inside, it’s almost easy to forget. The fire crackles, the cards shuffle, and for a little while, it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

But when the game ends and the silence stretches between us again, I feel that familiar pull, that urge to keep my walls up, to keep him at arm’s length. I don’t know him. Not really. And I can’t let myself get too comfortable. He could be just as dangerous as the men I’m running from.

Or, even worse, he could make me forget why I keep my walls up in the first place. And that would be the most dangerous thing of all.

12

Declan

I’m trying not to focus on the pain in my ankle, but it’s impossible to ignore. Every shift of my weight sends a dull ache up my leg, and even sitting perfectly still, it throbs, reminding me that this isn’t just a nice moment between two growing acquaintances. Today has been bizarre at best and slightly traumatizing at worst.

Still, I’m doing my best to play it cool. Jade’s been more than generous, and the last thing I want is for her to think is that she’s not doing enough to make me comfortable. She’s already done far too much today to put me at ease. So, I suck it up and try to focus on the game in front of us. She’s surprisingly competent for someone who claimed to be terrible at cards, and even though I’m losing, I can’t help but enjoy the back-and-forth banter.

“Another loss,” she says with a grin, laying down her final card. “You sure you’re not letting me win?”

I snort, leaning back in my chair, but immediately regretting the movement.

“Not a chance,” I tease, though she honestly is beating me fair and square. “You must just be very lucky.”

“Lucky, huh?” She raises an eyebrow, shuffling the cards with practiced ease. “I wouldn’t call anything about this situation lucky.”

I chuckle, shaking my head.

“Touché,” I agree, looking over my cards at her. “But it could be worse. You could be stuck here with someone who’s much better than you at cards.”

Her laugh is soft, almost musical, and it does something to me. Something I don’t want to think too hard about. Already my interactions with her have made me feel disloyal to Cassidy, and that almost hurts worse than my injured ankle. Instead, I shift in my chair, biting back a wince as my ankle protests the movement.

Jade notices.

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