Page 58 of I've Got You

“I was not that bad.” Scott nudged me with his shoulder as he sat beside me.

“He’s right about the coffee though. Your ability to destroy coffee beans is incredible. Impressive even,” Jenna said.

I laughed as the banter continued and Jenna continued preparing the meal while the kids played happily in the background.

Chapter Eighteen

SCOTT

It was done.Finally. Thei’s had been dotted, thet’s had been crossed, and I was the official owner not only of an incredible house but of a clinic I loved. The past couple of weeks had been tied up in contracts and reassuring the staff that their jobs were safe and I wasn’t an asshole—well, only occasionally. I was lucky that only a limited number of staff knew the real reason behind my initial resignation, and Carter had gone above and beyond to tell anyone who listened that while I could be a grumpy dick without coffee in the morning, I was a good guy.

I was a lucky son of a bitch and kept reminding myself of that every morning I rolled up to work, and every night I spent around Davis’s and got to give Libby a kiss goodnight before wrapping myself up in Davis’s arms.

I switched off my computer and stretched out, surprised when Lauren called my name from the door. By far she’d been the hardest to convince, but despite her uncertainty, I was grateful that she remained professional at work and around the staff.

“I just received a call from Tanner, as Carter’s wrapped up in something apparently. He told me to, and I quote, ‘get Dickwad’s ass to the bar within the next ten minutes,’ and if we’re late, he’s going to make me buy the first round.” She looked unimpressed and snorted at the latter.

I held back a snort as all thoughts of her professionalism flew out the window. I grinned at her, my brows dipping in confusion. “Why are we going to the bar? I have to collect Libby.”

She shrugged. “Something about Carter or Sandy or someone is doing that, and you now have one minute to get your ass into gear.”

My brows dipped even further as I pulled out my cell. The bar I could handle; letting Davis down by not picking up Libby, however, was not happening. I pressed his name, and he answered after a couple of rings. “Hey,” I greeted as I grabbed my laptop bag and keys.

“Hey, handsome.”

I grinned. “Lauren said something about Libby—”

“Yep. All sorted. Carter’s already picked her up for us”—my chest expanded every time he said something aboutus—“and Sandy’s now looking after her for a few hours.”

“Okay.” Confusion lit my words, and I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, so jumped when Lauren clamped her hand on my forearm and tugged me out of my office, grumbling about me being slow and how I’d be buying drinks, and she’d be having an expensive-ass cocktail.

“Just let Lauren get you here.”

“You’re at the bar?”

“Just hurry your ass up.”

The line went dead and I was still none the wiser. It did look like we were heading to the bar though. I followed Lauren out. She led me to my car and waited at the passenger side door.

After eyeballing me while I unlocked the car, she got in. “You doing okay?”

I raised my brows at her while starting the engine.

“You look like you may pass out or something.” Her brows dipped into a concerned frown.

Releasing a sigh, I shook my head, pulling myself together. Of course I had nothing to worry about since Davis was involved, but that didn’t stop unease pulling at my gut. “It’s just weird this has been sprung on me, is all.” And it was. Nobody had done anything like this to me… for me before. My hands were clammy and my body heated.

She remained quiet for a moment, but I felt her eyes on me. “You’re an onion.” It didn’t sound like an insult necessarily, but it had me raising my brows high.

“I’m a what now?”

“Onion. Or maybe a chameleon, maybe a combination of both.”

“I’m a stinky lizard.” I cast a brief glance her way and caught the assessing amusement on her face.

She laughed. “Quite possibly. I was thinking more about you being this confident, arrogant asshole who’s hot and got everyone talking and swooning when you started. You won a lot of people over, but then there was all of the BS with Carter”—my stomach dipped, which it always did when I thought of my behavior. Both Carter and Davis had told me I had to forgive myself. I wanted to, but it took time—“which you know elevated your assholery status, but then I get it. I understand the whys of it all. And then there’s this… you. You’ve come back and played the confident boss card to perfection. You can still be an asshat before you get at least a couple of coffees down your neck in the morning, but I’ve also seen you laugh, and smile, and be really kind.”

My eyes danced between dipping and lifting high as she blurted out her assessment of me. I remained quiet throughout, equally mortified and impressed that she seemed to understand me well.

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