Page 1 of Boss Unavowed (Boss 2)

ONE

A haunted moan could be heard from across the hallway as Farren held and rocked little Harley for his routine two o’clock a.m. feeding. The sound yanked her out of a sleep-deprived haze, and wild panic pierced through her chest as she sprang from the gliding chair, placed Harley in his crib, face-down in case he spit up his just-eaten food, and rushed into the bedroom she shared with the father of her child.

Rogan lay paralyzed in his bed, a nightmare of his past consuming his mind, holding his consciousness hostage. He was unable to wake, unable to escape the horrors that replayed through his memory, forcing him to relive those fateful moments that had changed him forever.

Sweat drenched the pillow and sheets beneath him, and when Farren reached his side, she threw the blanket from atop his body and cupped the sides of his face.

“Shhhh, shhh, shhh,” she said, trying to soothe him, and his eyes flew open as a violent intake of air filled his lungs.

He shuddered beneath her fingers before her face came into focus. Then he took in a cleansing breath. His hands reached up to grab her wrists as she continued to hold on to him, brushing her thumbs against his jaw in small, soothing strokes. She could feel his heart racing in his chest, as her body leaned over his from where she knelt beside him in their bed.

“Farren,” he breathed, moving to sit up.

“It’s okay, everything is okay,” she assured him, but the muffled cries of the baby came drifting into the room from across the hall, amplified by the baby monitor lying on the nightstand a few feet away from her.

She hadn’t finished feeding Harley, and she’d laid him down without burping him, too. She knew she’d have to get back to him quickly, but concern was etched in her forehead with her loyalty torn between the two people she loved the most in the world, who both needed her at the moment.

“You were gone,” Rogan acknowledged. It was the one thing that guaranteed the reappearance of the terrors that claimed him in the night.

It killed her, seeing him so vulnerable and broken. He was such a strong, powerful, brilliant man. He was unshakable, intimidating, even, so to know that demons of his past were enough to bring him to his knees made her feel helpless.

He needed her.

“I’m right here,” she reassured him. “I was just a few feet away feeding Harley.”

Even through the dark of the night, she could just make out the steel in his expression as his face hardened, and he forced away the vulnerability, regaining his control. This was the Rogan Rayner she was used to, the one who feared nothing.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll go check on Harley,” he offered, shifting his legs over the side of the bed to press his bare feet to the cool hardwood floor.

She reached for his arm to stop him, pulling him back to her. “It’s okay. I was just finishing up feeding him. I’ll go.”

He turned back to her, smoothing his fingers down her long, brown hair she had pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of tiny baby fingers. He softly kissed the tip of her nose. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his hard chest, still standing on her knees on the bed beside him.

Then she let go and turned to go back across the hall to soothe another tortured soul, though this one was much easier to appease. A little milk, a gentle sway, and a soft hum of her favorite lullaby were enough to satisfy the smaller of her two men.

If only the other were so easy.

TWO

“I can’t believe you did that!” Farren cried, her body rocking with laughter as Rita went on about how she had embarrassed her thirteen-year-old son the night before after finding a dirty magazine under his bed.

“Hon, you just wait. When Harley hits the terrible teens, you’ll be wishing for the sleepless nights you have now, instead of the ones you’ll have then. It’s a whole different ball game,” Rita said, imparting her Southern-accented wisdom to a horrified Farren as the women hovered over the coffee pot in the employee lounge.

Farren sighed, rubbing the area of dark circles beneath her eyes. “Please tell me I’ll have a few years in between there where I actually get some sleep. Would you believe I actually dozed off yesterday when I was supposed to be going over the program we’re sending off to Kansas tomorrow? I didn’t realize it until I fell halfway out of my chair, and then I hit my elbow on the edge of the desk trying to catch myself. I have the battle wounds to prove it.”

She pulled her sleeve up to show the bruise forming just below her left elbow, and it was Rita’s turn to laugh until she cried.

About that time, Edith Underwood, the new head of marketing, breezed into the lounge holding an empty coffee cup in one hand and a tablet in the other. Her pencil skirt was extra tight that day, and her form-fitting, button-down top was showing a rather excessive amount of cleavage.

“What’s so funny?” Edith asked, injecting herself into their conversation as she eyed Farren and Rita. Then she reached between them to grab the coffee pot.

The two women moved to give her room. Farren had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, and thankfully, Rita answered so she didn’t have to.

“Oh, you know, just talking about our kids. You got any kids, Edith?” Rita knew she didn’t, but she knew the question would get under Edith’s skin.

Edith’s upper lip smirked up in disgust, and her blond waves swayed around her as she shook her head. “Uh, no.”

She set her tablet on the counter before grabbing the handle of the pot of coffee, pouring herself a generous cup, and then looked over to Farren.

“Farren, darling, I can recommend a cream that would do wonders for your… eyes. Let me know if you’re interested,” she said, patting Farren on the top of her shoulder. Then she shifted back to the counter where she poured creamer and sweetener into her cup and stirred.

&nbs

p; “Thanks, Edith, but I think I’ll pass,” Farren grumbled, beyond irritated at the implied insult.

She pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm the growing anger, and as she did, the scent of Rogan’s cologne touched her senses before he appeared in the doorway of the lounge. She looked toward the door to see him come in, and all the prior irritation was forgotten in an instant as his eyes locked on hers.

“Ladies,” he said in his deep voice to greet everyone, but his vibrant, blue eyes remained on her through his black-rimmed glasses, with the slightest hint of a smile as one corner of his mouth twitched up ever-so-slightly.

“Morning, boss,” Rita said, her Southern accent dragging the last word out into two syllables as she strode out of the room to get to work.

“Well, good morning, Rogan,” Edith said, and her voice was breathier than it had been just a few moments earlier.

He nodded, looking her way, and Farren could feel the irritation come roaring back with full force as she watched his eyes go to Edith’s cleavage for a split second before shifting them back up to her face.

His attention turned back to Farren, and she watched his eyes soften the slightest bit. He always tried to keep things professional between them when other employees were around. Even though most of the staff knew about their relationship, they still had to leave their personal life outside of the office as much as they could for the sake of the business.

Edith walked over to Rogan and her hand reached out to touch his elbow.

“Oh, Rogan, don’t forget I wanted to meet with you sometime today to go over my marketing plans for the upcoming quarter, and to give you more details about my plans for Chicago,” she said, still grasping his arm.

He nodded, acknowledging her reminder. “I should have some time right after lunch. Bring your reports from last quarter’s analysis so we can start there.”

A wide smile spread across her face and she strolled out of the lounge, coffee and tablet in hand.

As soon as Edith was gone, Farren found herself feeling a malignant discomfort begin to spread through her. There was just something about that woman that set Farren’s teeth on edge. It didn’t help that she really made her feel inferior, like Edith had it all figured out and Farren was just a child with a lot to learn.

Now alone, Rogan walked to Farren and stood in front of her, squeezing the sides of her upper arms that she held tight against her with forearms wrapped around her stomach.

“Farren? Everything okay?” he asked, his concern showing in the crinkles between his brows.

She looked up at him, gave a tentative smile and nod, and released her hold as she loosened up beneath his touch.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Just tired,” she admitted.

---