One Bossy Proposal: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bossy Seattle Suits)

“Linc! You left the door unlocked,” I whisper.

His fingers don’t care.

We’re in his office at eleven o’clock in the morning; he’s behind me, and his thumb is on my clit.

The minute I walked in, he summoned me to his desk without a word and pulled me onto his lap. What started off as slow-burn kisses became my dress strap pulled down and Lincoln’s tongue tracing my raven tattoo.

“A broken heart. I don’t like it, even if I love how you taste,” he growls, gingerly circling my ink with his finger.

“Maybe it’s a work in progress,” I tease back honestly. I’m trying like hell not to reveal any wild hopes that he could give me a reason to alter this tattoo someday.

Five minutes later, he has me bent over his desk against my better judgment, my panties flicked aside before I can even protest.

“Is the door your only complaint, sweetheart?” His breath is heavy and so, so enticing against my neck.

Then his thumb moves again, tracing agonizing circles.

I grit my teeth.

“God. You’re just—you make this so hard.”

“If you wanted hard, all you had to do was ask.” He pauses. I sense him shifting behind me before I hear a zipper opening. “Guess you’d better get me the fuck off real fast.”

Bye, brain.

This is demented.

Anyone could walk in while we’re—ahem—and land us both in a world of hurt.

“Lincoln, we shouldn’t.”

“Does your little pussy agree?” He inhales sharply and there’s the crinkle of foil tearing.

I shudder as I imagine him sliding the condom onto his cock, no doubt seething in his hand.

“That’s what I thought, Nevermore,” he mutters.

He thumbs my clit, bringing his free hand to my mouth, positioning his wrist against my lips.

“Bite down if you’re worried about the noise. Look at the city out the window. It’s a beautiful morning. Far too pretty to waste being nice when you looked like a pinup the second you stepped through my door.”

Oh, God.

He pushes into me with a guttural sound.

I whimper.

I’ve never done anything like this. Sex was never risky before Lincoln Burns, and I’m worried I’m already addicted.

I bump his desk gently as he drives into me—and then not gently at all.

His hips slap mine, each stroke coming harder than the last, hellbent on dragging my pleasure out of me, kicking and screaming.

It doesn’t take long.

I see pink and red and so much white. His fingers are still on my clit, rubbing me mad, pushing me to the edge so fast it’s almost blinding.

“Shit!” he whispers. “Listen to your pussy, sweetness. Listen to my thrusts. Let. Go.”

My mouth pops open. My core tightens like a coil made of fire.

I sink my teeth into his wrist, too awestruck to care about leaving teeth marks, the pleasure ripping me out of my body and—

Knock. Knock.

Oh, no.

There’s someone at the door and I’m coming uncontrollably, biting him, trapped in a red, red ecstasy that won’t let go.

“Yeah?” he calls behind me, his voice ragged.

I know he’s close. I’m clenching him so tight he doesn’t stop thrusting.

He can’t.

“New shipments are in from Europe, Mr. Burns,” a man’s voice says. “You said you wanted to know immediately. I tried calling but everything’s going to voicemail.”

Yikes.

If I wasn’t stuck in an orgasm that turns me inside out, I’d be horrified.

“Five minutes,” he growls back. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Great.” The doorknob clicks. “If you just want me to leave the spec sheets, I’ll—”

“No!” He roars, grabbing my hips, slamming in so deep my whole body thumps the desk. “Just. Fucking. Go.”

Fitting words because Lincoln is already gone.

For a hot second, his cock swells. I hear a frantic sound like he’s covering his own mouth as he grinds against my hips and releases.

Holy fuckamole.

Edgar Allan Poe could rise from the grave and walk in right now and neither of us could make ourselves care.

He’s groaning against his hand.

I’m leaving a full imprint on his wrist.

We’ve forgotten how to breathe.

And this fireball detonates through us for minutes that feel like years, storming our bodies with unrelenting bliss, making me feel him coming as much as I know he feels me.

When he finally pulls out, I think I need to be scraped off his desk.

“Linc. That was—God.” I have no words.

Honestly, he does a better job of summarizing it than me. I watch as he tosses the condom in the trash, tucks himself back in his pants, and hovers over me, brushing his lips so gently against mine.

“That was what you get when you trust me, Nevermore,” he whispers with a kiss. “If you’re a good girl, there’s a whole hell of a lot more to come.”

The next day, I knock on Eliza’s door with my elbow.

My hands are full, clutching my laptop and holding a small disposable cup of campfire coffee.

She opens the door with her eyes narrowed. “I knew I was being haunted. What brings you back to the land of the living, ghost girl?”

“I brought you a present to make up for being so busy.”

With a silly smile, she throws the door open.

“Come in! Why are you never home anymore? I almost thought you skipped out on me and moved.”

“I’m Lincoln Burns’ full-time fake bride. That means lots of time with my faux fiancé, taking pretty pictures.”

Ugh, I can’t hide anything. A rosy red blush betrays me and my mind instantly goes to the photo shoot a few days after the yacht cruise.

How sweetly Lincoln cradled me against his mile-wide chest.

How good he smelled, cologne and man distilled into the best scent.

How fast we raced back to his place, tearing at each other’s clothes before we even stepped off the elevator to his penthouse floor.

“Holy crap, lady. You and the bosshole?” Eliza looks dumbstruck.

I just hold out the small cup of coffee I brought along, courtesy of Wyatt after our latest cinnamon roll visit with him this morning.

Eliza takes it and turns it around slowly. She sniffs and jerks back.

“Wow, that’s strong! What is this stuff?”

“Lincoln’s friend, Wyatt, he makes this brew. I thought you might find it interesting—”

“Wait, Lincoln? You’re on a first-name basis now? Wow. You are spending quality time with the boss. Are you sure it’s just fake?”

“…I’m not sure what it is,” I answer honestly. The sex is truly the most intense experience of my life. My face goes hot at the thought. “That’s not my point, though. Wyatt brews this coffee over a campfire, and whatever he does, it always comes out with this smoky flavor. It’s pretty good when you add a little creamer to take the edge off. I started bringing my own after it choked me the first time. Try it!”

She sniffs the cup again and smiles.

“Maybe I will. But first, why are you blushing?”

“Blushing?”

I’m not sure why I bother playing dumb. She sees my scarlet face.

Eliza laughs and levels a look that’s determined to make me fess up.

I shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s a warm day. Just try the coffee. Then I have some pictures to show you.”

With a frown, she finally drinks from the paper cup. Her eyes widen comically.

“Whoa—I—oh, mama. This is good. I don’t know why I never thought of a fire roast before, but it does give the bean a nice smoky undertone.” She stares at the cup, transfixed. I almost think she’s forgotten about my Not Relationship with Lincoln. Until she looks at me again. “So, do you think your fake fling with the boss is leading you anywhere besides cool experimental coffee?”

I sit down on her small love seat.

“Not a clue, Eliza.”

“How’d it happen, anyway?”

I fill her in on everything, deciding there’s no sense in hiding the truth. The flowers from Jay, the ridiculous proposal, the nights in Seattle, the moment one blinding kiss turned the whole world into a waking dream when I opened my eyes.

“Amazing,” Eliza whispers when I’m finished, shaking her head in awe. “You guys are a thing.”

“I guess we are…” I nod slowly. “And I love it.”

She smiles. “Would you love it more if you could put a label on it?”

Would I?

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure if it should be anything besides what it already is,” I say carefully. “He’s still my boss, Eliza. This is pretty taboo as it is, and it’s also the kind of thing that follows you if it goes sour…”

“Aw, I don’t think he’ll come after you if it isn’t meant to be. He agreed to this fake engagement so no one would question it, didn’t he?”

“Still, what if HR finds out it’s not all fake when we’re off the clock?” I swallow, worry balling up in my throat.

“Cross that bridge when you get there,” she says simply.

“It’s not like I can stay away from him, so…maybe you’re right.”

“If you can’t stay away, trust the chemistry.”

I stare at her. “Do you have some catchphrase for everything?”

“Yep. It’s what I do. You have a lot of time to think while you’re waiting for the bloom on the perfect pour over or steeping cold brew.” She grins smugly, her eyes flashing.

“Eliza, life isn’t as easy as coffee. I’ve just stacked all my chips in one place and obliterated boundaries. If this doesn’t work out, it could get ugly.”

“But what if it does? What if penny boy decides he’s game to take you on a real date the whole world knows about?”

Oh, God.

The minute she says it, I tense. Hope and nervous horror knife through me. What if Lincoln did do that?

“Penny boy?” I whisper.

“You know, Lincoln? Abe? Penny? Never mind!” She throws up her hands, laughing.

“You come up with the goofiest names,” I say, cracking a smile that takes the edge off.

“Yeah, my other talent. Now you said you had some pictures?”

Right. I turn on my laptop. The company images aren’t synced up to my phone so we’ll do this the old-school way.

“You have to promise not to scream first,” I warn her, wagging a finger.

She crosses her heart with her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth.

Oh, Eliza. With friends like you, who needs trouble?

I press forward anyway.

An image comes up on the screen with Lincoln in a cream-white tux, holding me like I’m an absolute treasure. I’m wearing a simple white dress, resting my head under his chin, a bouquet of bright cornflower clenched between us.

Even though I’ve seen it ten times, my breath still stalls.

Is that really what we look like together?

Do cameras ever lie?

God. We could be shooting for a Pride and Prejudice reboot. And why not? Darcy was the original billionaire bad boy.

Eliza lets out a scream that would be earsplitting if it wasn’t for her palms pressed to her mouth.

“Hey, you promised not to scream! Covering it still counts.” I elbow her in the belly playfully.

She skids back, a messy laugh falling out of her.

“Dakota, that’s…a big deal. You’re wearing a wedding dress. The suit has you cradled against him. You both look like you just found your stars. Like, I’m over the freaking moon for you. You wouldn’t have allowed this in a million years if you didn’t feel something. Not after that annoying little blue jay…”

I shake my head, even as my heart flips.

“Let’s not get carried away, okay? I’m a copywriter for an apparel company. This is a marketing gig and it’s over in a few more shoots. When it’s done, I think I just want to lay low and let fate do its thing. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“No, but—look at him! He’s eating you with his eyes. I don’t buy him thinking this is just a dumb marketing ploy. Not in a million years.”

I wish I shared her confidence.

I manage a tense smile.

“He told me his mother got after him. Apparently, she’s pulling for us and told him it’s like a romance movie that needs to end with grandkids for her.” I smile with my cheeks heating again.

Eliza blinks at me.

“He told you that?”

I nod. “We laughed about it later.”

“Dakota! You shouldn’t wonder anything.”

“Come again?” I look at her, not following.

“You’ve got a dude telling you about his cute little fights with mama. A dude who also looks at you like you’re his hottest fantasy come to life.” She leans forward and flicks me softly between the eyes. “Dakota, you don’t fake that stuff. Lincoln Burns is basically your boyfriend and I hope to God you’re ready.”

I barely remember to rub the bridge of my nose, too stunned by the insane possibility she might be right.

And if she is?

Oh, crap.

It’s eight p.m. sharp when Lincoln emerges from his office. I came in late to catch up on some work after that heart-pulverizing morning talk with Eliza.

“Why are you still here?” He stops at my desk.

“Lucy’s emails took the whole day. I didn’t start ad work until after four.”

He leans against my desk, a tower of a man who still looks hot even when he’s at his most mundane.

“I appreciate the commitment. Are you coming home with me tonight?”

I do fairly often these days. It’s practically habit now.

“Is that an invitation?” I look at him slowly, trying to play it cool but failing.

“Always,” he growls.

I giggle. “Well, okay.”

“I’ll be ready in an hour or so. If you get to a good stopping place anytime soon, could you order us some dinner?”

“Will do.”

He moves closer to me, bends down, and kisses me. “I told myself after I dealt with that last proposal I’d get a reward.”

“Let me guess—I’m your reward?”

“Since you’re the hottest thing in my life? Yes.” He kisses me again, showing just what sort of reward he has in mind.

And I’m happy to oblige, savoring his tongue against mine, the brash way he moves inside my mouth. I can’t peel my eyes off him until his back is turned and he’s heading for his office, shooting one last longing, heated look over his shoulder.

God.

This man.

He’s a human chess piece and it’s scary how easily he’s put my whole heart into checkmate.

An hour later, after work is done and we’re in the town car on the way home, I say, “I shouldn’t work so late. But my hardass boss has me doing double duty…”

“He pays you well for both jobs. Plus, certain duties that come with one hell of a bonus.” The way his eyes rake me up and down promises perks infinitely better than money.

“Maybe, but why do you work so late all the time?”

“Contracts tonight. They keep the money rolling in so I can pay my employees—particularly beautiful ones who are mighty serious about salaried hours.”

His words make me smile.

“Thanks, but I don’t just mean tonight. Word is you’ve been all work and no play for a long time.” Yes, I’m pushing now. A little more determined to figure Lincoln out.

He gives me a long look before he speaks.

“Blame it on the Corps, I guess. The military made me crave hard work and the devil’s hours. Also, my mother retired not long after my father died. There was plenty to do at the office and long hours were necessary in the transition. Working like hell helped me,” he says, an odd hardness in his voice.

“Helped how?”

He sighs. “It was easier to deal with my old man’s death if I could keep my parents’ legacy alive. If I didn’t have spare time on my hands to dwell on the grief, it didn’t need to hurt so much.”

His eyes darken, russet-brown dimming to walnut.

“I’m sorry, Lincoln. I can’t even imagine…” I reach across the seat for his hand.

He takes my fingers and squeezes hard.

“It’s whatever. The business does better every year, and Ma’s good work lives on. I’m damn proud of that,” he says.

“You should be.”

He reaches for the door and pushes the button to roll up the privacy screen. “Working around the clock also kept me from getting into other trouble—”

“Other trouble?”

“You know what happened with my engagement falling through, but it’s not just that. If I’ve learned anything from my parents and Wyatt, it’s that relationships are fucking hard, and losing them is death. I decided I didn’t have the time or will. Not until a chick with a raven tattoo invaded my life and started sending me erotic poetry.”

I grin. “Are you saying you could give up the workaholic loner life?”

“I’m telling you I’m bewitched, Nevermore.”

He runs his fingers through my hair, a subtle tension in his face that makes me burn.

Poor Louis barely has time to stop in front of the building before Lincoln pulls me out, ferrying me up to his place.

Hours later, after we’ve shared another magical night, Lincoln’s tongue traces the inside of my mouth. He pulls away, brushing his lips against mine.

My arms are still clasped around his massive back, slowly guiding my hands to his butt.

“You still taste like wine,” I whisper.

He kisses me again.

“Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t care what you taste like when you kiss me, just as long as you do.”

He rolls off me and pulls me beside him. “Nevermore, you wore me out.”

I touch his face, running my hand through his thick hair, fully aware my heart is rabbiting in my chest.

I’m so close to saying something I can’t take back, but I want him to say it first. I’m not brave enough to go it alone and it frustrates me.

“I could stay here in bed with you forever, you know,” I tell him, picking weaker words.

He presses me closer and holds me tight, a possessive glint in his eye.

“Me too, sweetheart. With you, the world stops. I just wish it stayed paused longer,” he says with a heavy sigh.

He drifts off to sleep, and I’m left floating in this perfect haze of nerves and questions and what-ifs.

Sweet baby Jesus.

I never knew I could feel as happy as I am when I’m in his arms. He adores me, showers me with wine-flavored kisses, and the sex—the sex!

It never fails to leave me the best kind of sore, like Lincoln still wants me to feel him with every step I take.

But a voice in the back of my head whispers like rustling leaves, You’re letting your guard down. Nothing this great ever lasts.

I tell it to shut up.

It’s my natural pessimism speaking, old wounds wanting to talk crap.

It has nothing to do with me—with us.

Six feet something of chiseled muscle sleeps peacefully beside me like a lion, graceful and honest.

A man this powerful couldn’t lie if he tried.

Nothing could break him.

He’s strong, brave, intense, and for now, so loyal.

And as long as I’m with him, nothing will hurt me. I mean, he goes to a tent city multiple times a week to check on his friend and drops everything when his mother calls.

There’s a reason for his madness. It’s why he fights so hard to protect the people in his life.

“This isn’t like before,” I mouth to that annoying little chicken inside me.

Lincoln Burns isn’t Jay.

It isn’t fair to let past fears poison our present. Especially when there’s a chance Eliza’s little celebration for me isn’t premature.

I kiss his shoulder, letting my lips linger on his skin.

“I love you,” I whisper, confident he can’t hear me when he’s out cold.

I only wish I’d said it to his face.

Maybe tomorrow.

Bravery takes time—and so does love—but I’m making progress, right?

I just have to believe there’s no ugly ‘other shoe’ about to drop.

“Aaand that’s a wrap! Great job, you guys,” the photographer says.

He’s a tall, lanky man who almost looks like a scarecrow when he smiles and holds up his long thumb.

“Oh, thank God. My feet are about to fall off.” I hold up one leg, bending my knee to show off the six-inch white heel paired with the dress today.

Lincoln draws me closer and whispers, “I’ll make the effort worth it later, sweetheart.”

“Promise?” I lean back against him.

“Cross my heart and hope to fucking die,” he rumbles in my ear, brushing his stubble against my neck.

His heat only adds to the warmth falling down on me in lovely splashes of sunlight. It’s a breathtaking day in the park. We’ve gathered half the marketing team for this shoot, early summer in Seattle in all its sky-blue, gold, and green glories.

A bright light flashes in my eyes as I melt into him.

Ugh, it’s like I’m destined for a migraine today.

“Hey, I thought we were done?” I ask, scowling at the photographer man.

“Sorry. That was way too authentic not to capture!” He smiles sheepishly.

“Are we finished?” I look up at Lincoln, imploring him to call it good.

“Yeah, we’ll have material for months. Let’s pack it in.” He snaps his fingers at the photographer. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

He moves to my side and takes my hand. We start for the sidewalk.

It’s honestly sweet how this is a normal park and sectioned off for us, but he still escorts me like a bodyguard in Wyatt’s neighborhood.

Ch-ch-click!

My ears throb at the noise that follows us.

“Jeez. He’s still taking pictures, isn’t he?”

Lincoln smiles. “Can you blame him? Might be his only shoot for weeks with a beautiful woman.” He lowers his voice. “If he wants to rip that dress off, he’s not the only one. Of course, he’ll hurt for his trouble.”

Lincoln’s fist swings up, joking but not joking.

“You’re so bad.” I laugh before I can cover my mouth.

He stops moving and leans forward, staring at my lips. “I’m not bad. I’ve just been cursed by a little soul stealer,” he growls.

I think that goes both ways when I tilt my chin up.

His cool mahogany eyes sparkle with sun glitter as he comes closer.

“Are you sure you want to do this here? We’re not that far away. The team could see us, you know, and—”

“Their problem,” he bites off. “Not ours.”

And just like that, he ignites my whole mouth. It’s a sunny sweet kiss that reaches down inside me and strums all the feels.

Butterflies. Weak knees. A fluttery moan.

Wherever Lincoln Burns just brought me, it’s a place where I’m not thinking about work or anything else. Not until a voice interrupts from behind us.

“Dakota! Holy shit, Dakota, I found you. Finally.”

You know that moment in bad horror movies where everything seems fine, and then the lead turns around to find a monster with a mouthful of hellish teeth drooling on their shoulder?

If I had a choice, I’d take ten of those monsters.

Because when I whirl around in what feels like slow motion, I’m praying I’m hearing things. I’m begging all the gods of coincidence that I’m not about to see the owner of a voice I never wanted to hear again.

“What’s wrong?” Lincoln growls, his arms drawing tight around me as he senses my panic.

“Dakota,” the voice calls again, this time closer.

My gaze focuses and—there.

There he is.

His shaggy blond hair hasn’t changed a bit since I last laid eyes on him. It flops up and down in front of his face as he runs toward us, wearing flip-flops that splat on the sidewalk with every step.

“I…I don’t know what to do!” I whisper, clenching my teeth.

Lincoln drops my hand, hooks his arm around my waist, and pulls me closer. “Whatever you want, Dakota. I’ve got you.”

It’s like he already knows how bad this could be.

But it’s worse when Jay finally stops, standing right in front of me in a red t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts.

“Damn. I thought I’d lost you.” He hits me with this awful, too-wide smile before his eyes flick to Lincoln. His brows dart down in confusion like he didn’t notice the man holding me until now. “Oh. Shit. So this is why you’ve been ignoring me? To shack up with your fucking boss?”

His sneer cuts me in two.

Instant rage.

I’m about to ask what business it is of his—why he’s even here scolding me as if he wasn’t screwing his bandmate—but something else knocks at my brain.

“Wait. How do you know who my boss is?”

His lip curls and he rolls his eyes.

“You kidding? Your mama told the whole town of Dallas you’ve been crushing on the guy you work for. Dakota, c’mon, you’re not this kind of girl.”

I hear Lincoln’s teeth grind.

Oof.

I’m highly annoyed at Mom for blowing what little I’ve said about Lincoln way out of proportion.

Also, he’s here, in Seattle, after harassing me for weeks.

Did he come halfway across the country just for this pathetic in-person shot at changing my mind?

“Jay, we broke up a year ago. You left me. You can stay gone.”

I’m awestruck that I’m not shaking. I think the two protective arms wrapped around me have a lot to do with that.

“My band has a six month gig in Seattle,” he explains like I should care, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Nice. It’s a big enough city for both of us.”

“Dakota, you don’t mean that. You can’t keep hooking up with your boss. You’ll regret it.” His face drops like he’s genuinely hurt. For the first time, his words sound more desperate, more sad. “I’ll turn down the gig for you. We’ll move home and get a place just like we planned. I’ll teach music. You can write for the oil company. We can still fix our mistakes.”

For a second, there’s an ice-cold silence.

Then I’ve absolutely had it.

“Our mistakes? Our?” I scowl at him. “Are you fucking kidding me, man? Also, FYI, I am not hooking up with my boss! I’m in love with him.”

Oops.

Too many things happen at once.

Jay stumbles back like he’s just been shot in the chest.

My heart flies into my throat like a drunken hummingbird.

Lincoln turns to stone and draws a rough breath.

Oh, God. Me and my big fat mouth.

Jay straightens and hurls an angry look at me.

“Bullshit. You’re still hurt, I get it,” he says like he’s trying to make himself believe his own delusions over my words. “Some people back home thought you’d been sleeping around—only way you could’ve gotten such a cushy promotion so soon. But shit.” He holds out a hand. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. We’ll get through this. We can—”

I’m shaking.

Hot tears of fury sting my eyes.

“Holy shit, Jay. Do you ever shut up? Do you even hear the crap coming out of your mouth right freaking—” I stop mid-sentence as everything blurs.

In one movement, Lincoln swings forward, shifting me behind him, standing toe-to-toe with Jay and towering over him at least a good foot and a half.

“She’s had enough, you fucking maggot, and so have I.” His voice is all war, so intense it scares me. “Listen. You may have gotten away with disrespecting her when she was yours. That’s over now because she’s mine. So I’m going to give you one chance—and only one—to walk the fuck out of this park politely. Exit her life with your face intact. Comprehend?”

I’m not sure who goes more pale—Jay or me.

It’s devilishly satisfying to see him stunned speechless for once in his life. He’s the kind of man who always talked too much.

“Are…are you threatening me, man? Dude, you don’t own her!” Jay spits, drawing up, his face a hurt, frightened sneer. Even though he’s shorter, and probably sixty pounds lighter, he holds his ground.

“I never claimed to, asshole. You weren’t listening. However, I do know you’re a selfish, brain-dead prick who threw her away like she was fucking trash, and you couldn’t even spare her a second glance until you came crawling like the worm you are. You shouldn’t have shown up here. I may not own her, but she’s mine as long as she’ll have me. She’s appreciated. She’s cherished. What’s very not appreciated is some little college shit—”

“I graduated two years ago!” Jay squeaks miserably.

Lincoln snorts, baring his teeth.

“Oh, my bad. Post-college shit, I mean, poking around our business. Dakota needs a man in her life. Not a chickenshit little boy who already ran out on her once. And if you thought you’d come here just to rip her heart out all over again, I will fracture your shoulder.”

Jay gasps, trembling with ugly, impotent rage.

“Y-you can’t say that shit! Who the hell do you think you are? She’s supposed to be my wife!” His voice cracks horribly on that last note.

My stomach heaves. I feel sick.

Lincoln lets out a vicious chuckle.

“Is that what you think? You really are delusional. You left her, dude.” He snarls that last word.

“Nah, I just…I needed to get my head together. I had to figure things out.”

“That’s something men do before they propose, Einstein.” Lincoln’s hands ball into fists at his sides, more like rocks than human appendages anymore.

“You should talk! You’re taking fucking advantage of her. She’s screwed up in the head and she’s just sleeping with you because you’re the boss. That’s the only reason. She still loves me. She always will. So if you have any sense you’ll—”

I’m too paralyzed to even scream as Jay cuts off.

Lincoln flies forward, plowing into his chest with one massive hand outstretched. Jay falls back and hits the ground, fumbling around in his pocket as he slowly pulls himself up.

“I told you, watch your fucking step around my girl. Last warning.” Lincoln is fearless, his eyes pinning him down. “Here’s your chance. Show me you’re not totally stupid. I’ll kill you before I let you trash her in public again.”

Jay stares like an angry dog.

I open my mouth to yell a warning just as he springs up, something metallic glinting in his hand. The two men collide in chaos.

A few bystanders scream.

“Don’t hurt him, you lunatic!” I scream at Jay. “For the love of God, don’t—”

I throw myself between them just in time, just as Lincoln plants his fist into Jay’s nose. There’s a sickening crunch and he goes down with a howl, the knife he was holding clattering into the grass next to him.

I’m panting with my heart lodged in my throat, clutching Lincoln’s arm.

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

“Fuck,” Lincoln mutters, staring down at the broken mess on the ground before he looks at me. “Are you okay, Dakota?”

I bury my face in his chest, the sobs coming harsh and broken and free.

One big arm closes around me. His other hand strokes my hair.

“I’m…I’m…I’m fine!” I manage on the third try.

He holds me tighter, his eyes shifting back to Jay like judgment incarnate.

“You’re lucky as hell I didn’t do worse. Stay the fuck down until the cops arrive,” he orders, taking a stride forward to plant his foot on Jay’s chest.

His jaw is clenched like an angry god, chewing on the urge to slaughter my ex like it’s bubblegum.

I take half a step back. Just enough to see what’s going on around us.

Anna, Cheryl, and the rest of the crew are either rushing in or already surrounding us, staring at the scene with their mouths open.

Jay coughs and moans miserably under Lincoln’s foot.

I can’t even stand to look at him.

Something tells me whether he pulled a knife or not, Lincoln would’ve busted his nose anyway, and…I don’t even know what to think about this.

Another nightmare begins when I notice all the horrified faces around us.

So much for faking anything.

The awkward HR conversations Lincoln wasn’t ready to have are coming, fast and furious. And I know this is so not the way he wanted it to happen.

Save me.

Anna, dressed in bright pink today, stares for another awkward moment before she looks up and says, “Oh. I didn’t realize there was actually something between you two…”

“There’s nothing, Miss Patel. Just call the damn police,” a steel voice booms, furious and conflicted.

My heart stops.

I drop my hand that’s still touching his waist. He won’t even look at me, this silhouette of rage.

Nothing? Nothing? And in front of the whole team?

I wish there was a sniper in a nearby tree to put me out of my misery.

It feels like last summer at the church all over again.

Except somehow, this is worse.

He just told me he cared about me and changed his mind in less than a second. Or else he’s just lying to cover our asses in the most hurtful way possible.

I fucking hate men.

I get three steps away, struggling to walk in these stupid heels, before I burst into tears.

Great.

Now I hate myself too.

A pair of arms find me a few seconds later. Cheryl, determined to keep me from falling, whispering soft words.

“It’s okay, Dakota. Deep breaths.” She gives Anna a desperate look, who’s also at my side.

“Why don’t you guys go for a ride in the company car?” Anna asks. “I’ll sort this out. Everything.”

Oh, how I wish that was possible.