Page 28 of Stuck with my Boss Daddies

Adam chuckled, following me as I set down a couple of drinks. “See, now you’ve got me curious.”

“Good,” I shot back. “Keeps you on your toes.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “And here I thought I was supposed to be training you.”

I smirked, glancing at him over my shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to keep up.”

His grin widened, sharp and knowing. “Oh, sugar, I intend to.”

Adam was everywhere.

And I had to admit, I kinda liked it.

I liked the way we bantered.

I could say what I wanted to him, and he threw it right back at me.

He leaned against the counter now, smirking as I struggled to balance a tray of drinks. “You sure you got that, sweetheart? Wouldn’t want to ruin that brand-new uniform.”

“Bite me, Reid,” I muttered, adjusting my grip.

I didn’t see him at first—I was too busy smirking at Adam, showing how well I could work—but I heard it.

A low, excited bark.

Then the franticclick click clickof tiny paws scrambling across the hardwood floor.

“What the…”

A blur of tan fur shot out from the butchery section of The Foundry, moving at a speed that defied logic. A corgi, squat, mischievous, and unreasonably fast, bolted straight for me, a string of paper towels trailing from its mouth like some kind of victory flag.

“Biscuit!” someone hollered. “Get back here, you little gremlin!”

Biscuit shot through the dining area like a canine tornado, weaving between tables, a look of pure joy plastered across his furry face.

Customers laughed. One little girl clapped in delight.

“Aw, hell,” Adam muttered, already lunging forward. “I got him?—”

“No, I?—”

Too late.

Biscuit veered hard to the left… straight toward me.

“Nonononono—”

The corgi barreled directly into my legs.

I stumbled, the tray tilting dangerously. “Oh, sh?—”

My fingers fumbled, and the entire thing tipped. Everything happened in slow motion.

The drinks slipped, tilting at an impossible angle, the ice catching the overhead light as they tumbled toward the floor.

I sucked in a sharp breath, hands grasping at nothing, my brain scrambling to catch up even as I knew—Iknew—there was no saving it.

The glass hit first.

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