Page 22 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

Hell, maybe he felt sorry for me because he’d hurt my feelings a year ago.

There was no way Wyatt was interested in me, and I had no business thinking about my temporary boss in relationship to multiple orgasms and sexual bliss.

I was nothing to him except a convenient chef and dog sitter rolled into one, and my life would remain much simpler if I never forgot that a man like Wyatt Durand, even if I had no intention of dating anyone, was way out of my league.

Wyatt

“How are things going with Shelby and Xena?” Tori asked as we both sat in the meeting room at Last Hope headquarters downtown.

My sister looked as tired as I felt right now, but she was still here after running a long rescue with us that had required a linguist.

Cooper was in our mission room messing with a piece of equipment that he’d wanted installed as soon as possible, even though it was almost two am.

Everyone else had left a few minutes ago.

It had been a long night, but my guys in Michigan had run a flawless operation, as usual, and the hostages were safely on their way back home.

The volunteers from my old Delta Force team really deserved hazardous duty pay for the things they did for Last Hope, but I knew they would neither accept it or want it.

They were motivated to rescue as many people as possible for reasons that had nothing to do with money.

Nevertheless, I was damn happy they were Last Hope volunteers because they took on some of the rescues that others might hesitate to accept.

Hopefully, they’d get a very long rest before they were called on to do another op. Sometimes we could go months and months without a rescue mission, and there were others to perform some of the ops. We’d just had a run of really complicated hostage situations in the last few months, and our Michigan team was our go-to team when we knew shit was going to hit the fan.

I looked up from the notes I was writing on the laptop in front of me.

Marshall, our Last Hope leader, insisted on us documenting operations only on the protected computers at headquarters, a place that had more security features than The Pentagon.

I shrugged as I finally answered, “You’d probably know more than I do about how Shelby is doing. I haven’t seen her since her first day last week.”

For some fucking reason, that irritated the hell out of me.

Shelby had run out of my house like her ass was on fire…again, even though I’d actually invited her to stay this time.

I guess, because she’d done something nice for me, I’d forgotten that she really didn’t like me.

I went home every night to a fairly well-behaved mutt and the tantalizing scent of food, but I’d never run into Shelby again.

Hell, I’d even cut out early from the office again…twice, but she’d been just pulling out of my driveway both times.

She’d waved and smiled, but she’d kept on going.

Shelby Remington had basically blown me off, but I always felt her presence there when I got home.

She left instructions on how to heat the food, and left me notes about Xena, but never anything personal.

Not that I reallywantedto know anything about her personal life.

It was none of my business how she spent her time or what was happening in her life.

But it was slightly annoying that she never bothered to talk to me in person.

I hated myself for actually watching her cooking videos just to see what she’d left for me that she hadn’t cooked that day for work.

And damned if it didn’t make me feel good when I noticed something on my menu that hadn’t been in her video that day.

Jesus!I had no idea what was wrong with me, but I really needed to stop giving a shit about the nice things she did for me that she didn’t have to do.

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