Mack glares at me, then thinks better of it and mutters something under his breath.
Good.
That’ll teach him to stare at my girl.
The thought lands heavy and possessive.
Fuck.
That’s not good. Not at all.
She’s not mine.
She’s my employee.
And I’m already reacting like she belongs to me, like I need to guard her from the world—and maybe myself.
There’s not much I can do about how my body responds, but I can control my actions.
I have to.
“Should I head back to the office?” Willow asks, standing near my side again.
“I’ll walk you,” I say. “I’ve got things to handle inside. And that way you can ask me whatever you need about the computer system and phones.”
She nods and steps ahead of me.
I follow.
Like a goddamn puppy dog.
And I know—deep down, in the part of me that never lies—that this woman is going to be trouble.
The kind I might regret.
The kind I might not survive.
CHAPTER 8
WILLOW
After that first afternoon—where my gruff, terrifyingly handsome boss showed me the ropes—I settle into the rhythm faster than I expect.
I learn how to answer the phones without flinching every time they ring.
How to take messages the way he likes them, neat and detailed.
I figured out the invoicing system, the batches that need to be run daily versus weekly, and the very specific way the guys prefer their lunches.
Soup hot.
Sandwiches plentiful.
Coffee always on.
The kitchen stock is low now, and Kelly’s handwritten list tells me it’s time to make a run to the big depot store in the next town over.
It’s a solid hour drive, and I stare at the list wondering how I’m going to fit all of it into the back of my little car without snapping an axle.
