Page 12 of Sexy Bad Boss

“And scare him away all over again?” Although, maybe if I hadn’t gone for the jugular of the issue and instead let him warm up to the idea, his reaction might not have been so stunned. And he did say he needed time to process my throwing myself at him. If there’s any chance I could seduce the man or open his eyes without making a total bollocks of it like I did last night, I have to give it a red-hot go.

“Channel your inner Kardashian or something. At least tell him how you feel before you leave for good. You’ve already quit your job. May as well go all in.”

“No more Ms. Nice Gal. Time to use all my feminine charms.” The idea is growing on me. Really, I can’t get much lower than this. She’s right: What else do I have to lose? “James is going to find out just how much of a woman I can be.”

***

I catch Garrett on his way out of James’s place. He grins when he sees me. “I didn’t think you were coming. I was about to call a nurse for the demanding ass.”

“It might as well be me,” I say. “At least he won’t be able to scare me off, and it’s only a week.”

“That’s true.”  He chuckles. “That must have been some crazy after-party you two had last night. You’ve given notice. He’s got the worst concussion I’ve ever seen.”

“He’s not doing well then?” I let go of my suitcase to adjust my laptop bag while I juggle a tray of coffees I picked up at the bakery near my house.

“Not as well as he’s pretending. You know how James is.”

“Stubborn,” I offer.

“Is one of those for me?” Garrett points at the tray.

“Yes.” I shift the tray again to reveal the brown bag I’m clutching underneath it. “And a pastry. Figured neither of you have had breakfast.”

“You’d be on the money with that.” He takes a cup and the bag. It crinkles as he rifles through it and finally pulls out a blueberry Danish. “Nice.”

“That’s James’s.”

“I know.” He grins as he bites into it, then speaks around the mouthful while he puts the bag on the tray. “Not sure he deserves it though. Why did you resign anyway?”

“I was ready for a change.” I shrug. “Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and over again and expecting a different result?”

“What result were you hoping for last night?” He grins so wide I can see flakes of pastry between his teeth.

I shake my head. “Certainly not one where he fell off the deck.”

He chuckles. “Well, I best leave you to it. Erin and Abby are waiting for me. Good luck with him.”

“Thanks,” I say as Garrett hustles down the path. “I’m going to need it.”

I let myself into James’s condo and put my bags down near the door. I’m not sure yet where I’ll be staying. There’s only one bedroom on the second floor, along with a bath. I might end up sleeping on the couch.

Except I find him stretched out on the couch, propped up by several pillows. He’s going to be the one sleeping downstairs. He’s dressed in one of Garrett’s blue polos and a pair of gray and pink argyle pants. I press my lips together to keep from laughing. He looks up from his laptop, already perched on his knee. “Good, you’re here.”

“I am.” I cross the room and set the coffees and pastries down on the glass-topped coffee table, ducking my head so he doesn’t see how entertained I am by the ridiculous get- up. “French roast?”

“Thanks.” He holds out his hand to receive it. His good hand, the other lies on his abdomen, bandaged. “Any chance there’s a blueberry Danish in there?”

“There was.”

“Garrett?”

“Yes.” I open the bag and hold it out for his inspection.

“Bastard. He was adopted, you know.”

“So you’ve told me many times.” That’s always been his fallback position when one of his brothers has done something to push his buttons.

James pulls out an apricot Danish. “This will do.”