Page 37 of Boss Unyielding (Boss 1)

She watched as his realization set in, and she heard a light gasp as his mouth fell open in surprise.

“Is it…” he began, but before he could finish his question, his phone rang from his pocket.

He cursed, reaching to grab and silence it, but as he brought it up, the name Elaina Evans flashed across the screen.

Had it been anyone else, anyone else, he would have sent it to voice mail, but with the news he’d just learned, he had to take the call. He gave Farren an apologetic look and held up a finger indicating for her to wait one moment as he answered the phone.

“Elaina? I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you back in a few… No, I’ll stop by on my way out. Don’t leave… Okay, see you soon.”

Then he ended the call and put it back in his pocket.

Farren’s heart had sunk the moment she heard the woman’s name, and she knew in that exact moment there was no way she could tell him this baby was his. She could never ask him to be something he was not, and she couldn’t bear to watch him leave her life, not now.

Working for him was the only way he would ever be in her life, and the sooner she accepted this, the sooner she could move on and stop wasting her time on any childish notions that he could ever feel anything for her. That wasn’t the kind of man he was, and besides, who was she compared to so many beautiful women he had on his arm, in his life, in his bed.

It crushed her, and it defeated her. So she drew in a deep breath and answered the question he hadn’t gotten around to asking before the beautiful woman of the day called and stole his attention from her.

“Don’t worry, it’s not yours,” she said with a shaky voice. She cleared her throat, hoping that would steady it and help her sound more believable.

His brow furrowed, and he took a step back. “It’s not?”

She shook her head and looked down to the floor. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “No,” she repeated.

“Whose is it?” he asked, and she almost thought she heard a defensive tone in his words.

“It’s…” Oh God, she thought. She had to think quickly. What could she possibly tell him?

Before she could respond, he supplied her answer for her. “Was it the guy who was waiting for you that night at your car?”

She thought back to the night Paul had been standing out in the parking lot when she and Rayner were walking out together. She had been so mad at him for showing up that night and ruining any could-have-beens for her. Now, she was grateful that Paul had finally made himself useful and provided her with an out.

Relief washed over her. “Um, yeah,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Paul.”

Rogan nodded, slow and expressionless. “So you’re with him?” he asked.

She wasn’t going to go that far. She scoffed. “What? No. We broke up a while back.”

The last thing she needed was to have to keep up a charade of pretending to be with Paul when she really couldn’t stand being around him anymore. Mostly, though, she just didn’t want to lie any more than she had to. She hated lying, and she figured the less lies she told him, the less complicated this had to get.

“But he’s going to be there for you and your baby, right?” Rayner pushed, and Farren’s heart sank once again.

“No,” she admitted. “Paul isn’t exactly father material. But I’m okay. I have everything I need to raise my baby alone,” she assured him.

She thought she saw a flash of anger in his eyes, but he said nothing.

There was a knock at the door, and a few seconds later, a nurse poked her head in. “You’re all set, hon. I just need you to sign the discharge forms, and you’re free to go.”

Farren thanked her, and Rogan excused himself to leave. She guessed he was free to go, too.

When Rogan left, he made a beeline for his office. He now had a lot of shit to take care of, least of which was Dallas-fucking-Evans.

TWENTY TWO

Rogan pulled his truck into the parking lot of Denny’s and killed the engine. No, he wasn’t here for a late-night breakfast plate. He was here to sit and wait for the young Mr. Paul Monroe.

He’d done some digging, and yes, digging was putting it mildly, to find out who Paul was and where he could be found. Running his plates from the parking lot surveillance the night Paul had parked outside his office was the easiest place to start, and had eventually led him to where he was sitting now, where Paul should have been getting off his evening shift as a Denny’s waiter any minute.

Sure, Rogan was capable of all kinds of hacking, and he would call himself a Gray Hat on a good day, depending on who was asking.

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