Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I take a step back. Didn’t want to hire me?
“I think it’s okay.” Brayden is silent a beat, and I frown. Okay?
“You don’t have to hide with me,” Ethan says softly. “I get it. I see it when you look at her.”
Brayden groans and mutters a curse. “She’s just so . . .”
I’m frozen in place, waiting, knowing I don’t want to hear him finish that sentence but unable to move my feet.
“On my bad days, I wish I’d never brought her on,” Brayden says. “But I try not to be such a selfish ass most of the time. She’s broken and she doesn’t even know it. If I’d had any idea what kind of baggage she was dealing with, I would have never—”
I take one step back, then another. I don’t want to hear any more. Humiliation roars in my ears. I stumble my way down the hall and toward the banquet room, where my staff is filling water glasses.
I bring a trembling hand to my lips. I hate the idea of anyone thinking of me as broken, but the idea that Brayden sees me that way, that he thinks my messy past makes me somehow less fit for this job? The words are so heavy that I can hardly fill my lungs.
Think about it later.
I lock away the hurt and focus on the job my boss wishes he’d never hired me to do.
Brayden
“You wish you’d never slept with her?” Ethan asks gently.
“I wish I wouldn’t have rushed things that night. I was just another asshole hooking up with her, and it was too easy for her to walk away.”
“And now she’s moving in with you.”
I meet my brother’s eyes, looking for what he’s not saying. My younger brothers were always buddies, their own unit, and then Ethan and I were close, but life got in the way. Hell, maybe my workaholic tendencies got in the way. Or maybe things changed between us after he lost his wife, and I hated that I couldn’t fix it. We’ve only started to reconnect in those old ways since Nic’s been around.
Ethan knows about my night with Molly—knows more than anyone else—and knows I wish more had come of it.
I drag a hand through my hair and stare up at the ceiling. I’m not big on sharing my feelings, but hell, if anyone will understand, it’s Ethan. “At first, the attraction was mostly physical. But seeing her with Noah and working next to her all the time . . . Jesus, she’s the best employee I’ve ever had, and I know we need her here. I know it. But I keep wondering what would have happened if I’d never hired her.”
“If you hadn’t hired her, she’d still be in New York.”
I sigh. “Details. It’s just that she puts the job above anything else, and I wish she wouldn’t. I know I don’t want to.”
Ethan’s eyes go wide, and he shakes his head. “Wow.”
“What?”
“I can’t believe Brayden ‘Workaholic’ Jackson wishes he could put his personal interests ahead of his business.”
I shrug. “It’s my own damn fault.” If I’d taken things slower and we’d not spent the night together, maybe she’d look at me differently now.
“I’m not judging. Hell, it’s refreshing, brother. You deserve a life of more than endless paperwork.”
“It doesn’t change anything. She works for me, and she doesn’t want a relationship with her boss.” She’s made that more than clear.
Ethan folds his arms and smirks at me. “You know, Nic was my employee before she was my girlfriend. Maybe it’s not ideal, but if you really want her and she wants you, I’m sure you can work it out. When it’s real, it’s worth the risk.”
My gaze goes to the hall behind my brother, as if I could magically will her to appear. I see her almost every day, but when she’s close, it feels like I’m waking up. When she’s not, I catch myself finding excuses to go to her. “I’m not sure she wants me in return.”
Ethan shrugs. “She’s moving in with you. I can’t imagine a better time to find out.”
Molly
Usually, I’m a beer girl. Not that mass-produced tasteless stuff. God no. I work for Jackson Brews, and drinking any beer with the word “Lite” in its name would probably get me fired or shunned at the very least. No. I love beer like I love art—complex, effortful, rich, and layered. Porters, barrel-aged stouts, saisons with a fruity back end.
But tonight, I skipped the beer and went straight for the tequila. One shot upon arriving at the Jackson Brews employee Christmas party, and another shot every time I thought about Brayden Jackson wishing he never hired me. Calling me broken.
I’m on shot number five . . . a shot for every hour that’s passed since I heard him say those words.