Page 43 of Never Bargain with the Boss

“Pink or black. Those are the only two I have, so I usually rotate between them.” She shrugs like she hasn’t decided yet as she takes a bite of her dinner. “Maybe both?”

I don’t know a lot about women, but only having two polishes sounds… odd? Mom always had a whole drawerful of them, and growing up, Kayla used them all. Michelle had at least a dozen, and I think Grace has at least that many too. But Riley isn’t the least bit concerned about what some would consider a lack. She’s happy with so little.

It makes me feel a little ashamed because I know I’m giving her so little too. A little taste of family, of home, of me. But that’s all I have to give.

Except…

“Mom takes all the girls—Grace, Janey, Kayla, Luna, Samantha, Dani—for manicures pretty regularly. I’m sure she’d love for you to go with them next time.” Mom makes it a point to be a good mom, grandmother, and mother-in-law to all the women in our family and routinely spends time with each woman individually and in groups, finding and creating those deep family attachments.

Riley’s eyes jump to mine, and I can see the eagerness there, along with the surprise at being included and the yearning for that sort of connection. But almost as quickly, shutters slam down and though she smiles politely, she declines. “That’s okay. It sounds like a family thing.”

I make the instant decision to tell Mom to arrange an outing and put the whole damn spa day on my credit card. It’d be a small price to pay to make Riley smile and feel the Harringtons’ special brand of fucked-up affection. Although it’s risky because it might be enough to send her running for the hills. Especially Kayla and Mom together. Though Samantha and Dani aren’tmuch better, with crazy shit coming out of their mouths, sometimes loudly and at the same time. Luna and Janey are sweet, though. I know Riley and Janey get along, so I’m pretty sure she’d like Luna too.

“I’ll talk to Mom,” I declare, and Riley presses her lips together, fighting to hide a smile, but I can see it dancing in her eyes. “How was Janey today?”

Riley has gone over to Cole and Janey’s nearly every day this week, spending at least an hour or two helping out. Sometimes, she goes while Grace is at school, and sometimes, if Grace doesn’t have a lesson, they’ll go together after school, usually stopping for one of the weekly Starbucks trips.

“Better,” she gushes. “Emmett’s cluster feeding seems to be slowing down, and just in time, because his first tooth popped through today. Janey started bawling about how fast time is passing and saying she can’t believe that he’s already four months old.”

“Time does fly,” I agree.

“That’s why we have to make the most of it,” Riley adds sagely.

It sounds suggestive as fuck to my on-edge desire, like she’s outright proposing we take advantage of having the house to ourselves. But Riley’s casually eating her dinner like she didn’t mean anything by it and it’s just a catchy phrase of advice she threw out, unwitting to the way it’d sound.

I have to get out of here. I’m losing whatever grip on my restraint I might’ve had walking into the house tonight. Imagining Riley in all sorts of positions, wanting to introduce her to my family at large, and taking off-hand remarks as sexual invitations.

And while I’m about to say fuck it and try to fuck her, she’s entirely unbothered, thinking we’re just having a nicechilldinner. Well, I am anything but chill tonight.

I swallow a wad of spaghetti, nearly clearing my plate, and gulp down the glass of red wine she poured for me.

“Speaking of time, I should get to work.”

“Oh, yeah.” I can hear the disappointment in her tone and have to grit my teeth not to take it back.

I can’t let myself be swayed by the small pout on her lips. This is for her own good. And mine.And Grace’s most of all, I remind myself.

Grace likes Riley and wants her to be her nanny. Ergo, I can’t fuck her, no matter how much my dick argues that point. It’s not right. I can’t fuck an employee, and I can’t fuck a twenty-five-year-old woman. Twelve additional trips around the sun on my part tells me that much for sure. I can’t… won’t… take advantage that way. Especially when Riley’s been dealt a shitty deck from the get-go. I don’t want to be one more thing that hurts her, because even though she does a great job of dealing with everything, she shouldn’t have to deal with it to begin with.

I stand up, picking up my plate, but Riley stops me by placing her hand on my forearm. I swear her fingers curl at the contact like she wants to grab me, but that’s probably my stupid imagination getting carried away again. “Leave it, I’ll take care of it. You have work to do.”

I shouldn’t. She’s not working tonight. And she made dinner, so the least I can do is clean up. But like the coward I am, I nod. “Thanks.”

I only make it halfway down the hall toward my office before I’m cupping myself. But I can’t keep doing this, jacking off with thoughts of Riley in my head. She fills my morning sessions, and too often, the evening ones too. So, with a growl, I turn to the one thing I know will help and pour myself a scotch, downing it in one swallow.

Then, I pour another and sit at my desk. Work always distracts me, and hopefully, tonight will be no different.

RILEY

It’s after one when my phone buzzes on the couch beside me. I’m in my room, the television showing reruns ofGilmore Girlsthat I haven’t been watching and my nails’ new coat of Hubba-Bubba Pink long-since dry. Mostly, I’m staring off into space and trying to figure out why Cameron was so weird at dinner tonight.

Did I overstep by assuming he’d still want to eat together?

Is he worried about Grace spending the night with Hannah?

Has he realized that I’mthis closeto being like one of those nannies who threw themselves at him, hoping for a ride on that dick of his that I can’t quit staring at now that I know how big it is?

I pick up my phone, a tiny wish that it’ll be a bootie call from downstairs trying to wiggle into my consciousness.