Page 26 of Until It Was Real

I grab the deck and remove the packaging. We use a new deck every month as these pranksters can’t be trusted not to mark up the cards. They’re cheaters down to their toes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Zane reaching for my shoe. I slap his hand. “Don’t touch my shoe.”

“But if I steal your shoe, you lose and have to wear the t-shirt.”

“I am not wearing a fucking t-shirt asking Dakota to marry me.”

Even if I were interested in a relationship – which I’m not – it wouldn’t be with Dakota. But I will uncover what secrets she’s hiding. And, after I do, Eli will rush to fire her.

And then she’ll be out of our lives forever. I ignore how my stomach sours. This is the way it has to be.

Chapter 9

“Be grumpy to me. I dare you.” ~ Dakota

Dakota

The door opens, and I smile at Rhett. “Good morning.”

He grunts in response.

“There’s coffee in the breakroom for those of us who aren’t morning people.”

He doesn’t even bother to grunt this time. He passes my desk without glancing my way. Someone is not a morning person. I don’t love mornings either but I haven’t gone to bed yet since my shift at the motel is from midnight to six a.m.

I stopped by Pirates Pastries for coffee and a snuggle with Viking this morning before coming to work. The caffeine hit should last me for at least an hour.

I hope. My sleeping schedule is completely out a whack. I try to sleep for five hours after I get home from the distillery. Then, I work eight hours behind the desk where I cat nap from four until six.

On Saturday, I sleep all day and on Sunday, I catch up on all my housework. It’s a brutal schedule. I don’t know how long I can keep this up.

I force my attention back to work. It’s my job to read all of Eli’s emails. He gets a ton of emails from people begging for money or mentorship or a job or an investment or …The list goes on and on. It’s crazy. I can barely keep up.

An hour later, I finish with the emails and make my way to the break room. It’s the prettiest breakroom I’ve ever seen – there are actual Baccarat crystal glasses – although I don’t have much to compare it with. I worked for a plumbing company before this. I was glad if the counter and coffee machine there weren’t tainted with dirty handprints.

Rhett is in the room when I arrive.

“Hey, blanket fort buddy. How are you?”

He scowls at me. “Blanket fort buddy?”

“Did you forget we spent a hurricane bundled under a blanket in a closet together?”

I’m never going to forget. Before Rhett arrived, I was terrified. After he joined me, I didn’t feel scared at all. Maybe a bit scared of how my body yearns for the controlling man. But it’s a good kind of scared. An exciting kind.

I’ve spent more time than I care to admit daydreaming about how he touched me when we were in the closet. What would have happened if I hadn’t told him tickling makes me pee? Would he have glided his hands to my breasts? My nipples tingle at the idea. Or maybe south? My panties dampen.

“I wasn’t under a blanket.”

“I forgot. Your body radiates enough heat to warm Antarctica in the middle of the coldest winter night.”

He frowns.

“Do you still refer to it as night when it’s dark twenty-four hours a day?”

“Stop.”

My brow wrinkles. “Stop what? Are you an Antarctica hater? Oh no. Are you one of those conspiracy theorists who believe the world is flat and therefore Antarctica doesn’t exist? What does Eli think of you being a conspiracy theorist? I’m surprised he hasn’t bundled you off to some rehabilitation center to disabuse you of your ideas.”

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