Page 15 of Runaway Bride for the Boss

I try to shake her out of my head, shooting off a few emails. Trying to set the next steps in the retirement home project in motion, now that the permit is a sure thing.

“We’re here, sir.” My driver’s voice makes me look up. It’s been thirty minutes already?

“Thanks, George, you may go home.” I’ll hitch a ride with Andrea and Autumn.

My shoulders relax as I walk into the warm, crowded bar. I make my way to the booth in the corner that’s always on reserve for me; brows go up when I see that Ezra is already sitting there.

“Oh, look, everyone. Alexander is here, hide your daughters.” He grins as I take the seat across from him.

I roll my eyes at that ridiculous statement. I’m hardly the player he is. “That’s pretty ironic coming from you, Ezra. I’m not the one whose exploits are plastered in tabloids every few days.”

“Well, what can I say? I learned from the best.” His cocky grin fades as he shifts to business talk. “How did it go with the permit guy?” He looks like he has more to say but goes quiet when Andrea’s server, Keith, comes over to our booth.

“The usual?” he asks, and I nod in response. “Be right back.”

“So, how did it go?” Ezra asks again.

“It’s done.”

“It’s done? The guy was pretty adamant about never signing the permit. I wasted several minutes on the phone with him, and even the Beaufort name wasn’t enough to sway him.”

“It’s done,” I repeat succinctly. I don’t need to hash out the finer details; all he needs to know is that we got the permit. I glance at the bar, my gaze immediately seeking out Autumn. And there she is.

Her face is flushed as she moves behind the bar, tending to the patrons. Her reddish blonde hair is pulled up into a loose bun; several unruly curls have escaped to frame her perfect face. She flashes a full smile when a guy seated at the barsays something, and my gut tightens. What could possibly be funny about that smuck? She’s a natural behind the bar, all big smiles and easy conversation–everything I’m not. She’s great for business, but the thought of every guy in town lining up to sit and watch her work is driving me mad.

“Alex!” Ezra shouts, sounding put out.

I turn to him with a raised brow just as Keith comes back with my drink. Scotch. Neat. “What?”

“What is so interesting?” he asks as I take a sip of my drink.

“Why are you here?” I ask instead of answering his question. “You’re on probation with dad, you know? No more drunken episodes.”

“Pfft.” He waves my worry away. “After that game of chess, where I wiped the floor with his ass by the way, I’m back on a clean slate with him. I can do whatever I want. But no, I don’t plan on getting drunk again.”

“And the drugs? Have you stopped them?” I ask absently, my gaze moving to the bar again. She’s laughing now. It’s the same bastard. What exactly is he saying to her?

“Oh shit, Autumn? You’re into her?” Ezra’s eyes light up when my gaze snaps to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I scowl.

“Nuh huh. Actually, I think I’m onto something here Alex. You haven’t been able to take your eyes off her since you sat down. Don’t think I didn’t notice you watching her at Thanksgiving dinner. At first, I thought it was nothing—”

“Itisnothing.” I grit out, interrupting him.

“But I’ve been wrong before and this time, my killer instincts are telling me that it’s definitely something,” he continues like I didn’t just tell him it’s nothing. “She’s not your type, man.”

I stay quiet, not wanting to give him even more ammunition, but Ezra is like a dog with a bone when he thinks he’s sniffedout something to tease me with. That’s one thing he and Andrea have in common.

“You know what? I’m going to go talk to her. Find out if the feelings are mutual.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Ezra,” I growl.

The dumbfuck simply grins at me, tosses back the last of his drink, and gets up from his seat. “Be right back,bro.” He winks at me as he leaves, and I nearly crack my molars I’m clenching my jaw so hard.

Autumn hesitates when Ezra signals to her and then goes to him. He says something and she smiles, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Then she turns around, bending to retrieve a bottle from the lower rungs of the bar shelf, pushing her tight ass out.

Ezra turns to me with wide eyes and a grin. My fists tighten as I consider reintroducing the little shit to my knuckles; it’s been too long. I toss back my drink and meet Keith’s eyes. He raises a hand to let me know he’s coming.

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