Page 114 of Stuck with my Boss Daddies

One second, he was dripping rainwater by the door. The next, he was on me. His hands—big, warm, possessive—slid over my arms, my waist, my face.

A quick, thorough check, like he needed proof that I was okay. That I was whole.

I barely had time to breathe before Samuel was at my other side, a solid, grounding force.

“You’re freezing,” Kai muttered, grabbing a hoodie he must have left on the counter earlier.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even give me a second to protest, before tugging it over my head, pulling my arms through the sleeves, adjusting it just right.

The second the fabric wrapped around me, I sucked in a breath.

Samuel let out a low, approving sound. “Good. Now sit before you fall over.”

“I’m fine,” I tried to argue, until my knees wobbled. Betrayed me.

Adam huffed. “Yeah, sure you are.”

And before I could blink, before I could protest, he scooped me up and took me to their loft.

I let out a startled sound, an indignant, breathless squawk, as my hands instinctively latched onto his shoulders. “Adam!”

“Shh,” he scolded, but there was a grin there. Just a little. Just enough to make my stomach flip.

He carried me like I weighed nothing, like I belonged there, setting me down on the leather couch near the fireplace.

“Let us take care of you, sugar.”

My breath hitched.

Because when I looked up, they were all watching me.

Samuel, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression tight, stormy.

Kai, crouched in front of me, pulling a blanket from the couch and tucking it around my shoulders.

Adam, settling beside me, one arm stretched lazily over the back of the couch, like he was getting comfortable. Like this was normal.

Like we weren’t trapped in here in the middle of a raging storm, lightning cracking, tension coiling thick between us.

I swallowed hard. “So, uh… we’re stuck here?”

“For a while,” Samuel confirmed, his voice low, unreadable. His gaze flicked to the windows, assessing, always calculating. “Too dangerous to go back out.”

A fresh bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a deep, rolling boom of thunder.

I flinched. Kai noticed.

He shifted closer, his knee brushing mine. “You don’t like storms?”

“No, not so much,” I admitted, my fingers curling tighter into the borrowed hoodie.

Silence.

Samuel’s brow furrowed. Adam’s fingers drummed against the couch.

Then he smirked. “Then we’ll make it better.”

I blinked. “How?”

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