Bastard Boss

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Bella

It's not long before we're working our way through security, and I'm being rather intimately searched by a female TSA agent while Tyler watches. His lips are curved, his eyes alight with mischief. Lord, help me, he's enjoying this. So much so that his brows go up when the lady strokes my upper leg, a bit too high and intimate.

"Ah, can we be a little more careful there, please?" I ask.

"You're done anyway," the woman replies, lifting her hand as if to say, feel free to leave.

With the hell finally over, I walk to the belt and grab my things. When I join Tyler, where he waits for me, he laughs. "That was interesting," he jokes, as we start walking toward our gate.

"For you," I say. "Not me."

He chuckles low and deep, a sexy laugh that runs a path up and down my spine, before he agrees, "I do suspect I enjoyed it far more than you."

I scowl at him, and at this point, we're walking toward our gate, and the entire act of traveling together, feels rather intimate, when it perhaps should not. But the last time I traveled with a man was two years ago, with my now-estranged almost fiancé. Travis works for the NASCAR corporate offices in Florida. We'd met at one of my father's races and instantly hit it off. He was older than me by eight years, good-looking, and well-established in life, with a dream career if you love NASCAR but don't want to drive. The age thing actually worked for us. He wasn't intimated by my career nor did he seem to see me as a payday, which is a problem when your father is famous. Actually, my brother is famous now, too. But Travis's world is my father's world.

I liked him.

My father was another story. He didn't approve. Travis just sat on the wrong side of right for him, for no named reason besides instinct, which he assures me keeps him alive all the time. I'd discounted his concern, but with a valid reason. My father has never wanted me involved with anyone in his world. Generally, his feeling is that most of them are manwhores. Probably because he's become a manwhore. But when my relationship with Travis stretched into a year-long connection, my father started to become more supportive. We even did Thanksgiving together. I thought I'd marry Travis, I really did, and so did my father. Me and Travis talked about it more and more. He broached the subject, not me, as if feeling me out for a proposal.

Then one weekend, I decided to surprise him and fly to Florida when he didn't expect me and walked into his apartment to find him with another woman. They'd been naked, in the act. At the time, I'd been devastated. My father, to his credit, never said I told you so, not once. Travis tried to win me back, but I wanted no part of it. I never even asked who she was. I didn't care. I was done. Through the process of healing, I ended up asking myself if I ever really loved him or just the idea of him. Maybe I'd loved him. I think betrayal can make you question everything about a relationship.

Tyler and I reach our gate and in doing so, I return to the present, both of us setting our things down on seats. Tyler glances at his watch. "We have more time than I thought we would. I need to make a call." He motions to the Starbucks nearby. "You want a coffee on my way back?"

"Make your call. I'll get the coffees."

"That works. I want—"

"I know what coffees you drink." I laugh nervously for pointing out my memory of all things Tyler and add, "Everyone should know what their boss likes in a cup of coffee."

He narrows his eyes on me. "Is that right?"

"Oh, yes. It's important. I take coffee and my boss's interests seriously." It's out before I can stop it, my words just tumbling into mayhem creating gibberish ever since he touched me.

Tyler's eyes light with amusement. Great. I amuse him. "I won't be long," he says.

"I'm really okay all by myself," I assure him.

He surprises me then and says, "Maybe I don't want you to be, Bella," and he doesn't give me time to read his words with his expression. He grabs his briefcase turns away and starts walking.

I'm left staring after him, more confused than ever. In fact, I am hereby living in a perpetual state of wanton affection and confusion where my boss is concerned. I slide my purse over my shoulder and roll my briefcase with me to the Starbucks line. I've placed the order, and I'm waiting for it when my phone buzzes with a text from Allie. What is up with you and Tyler?

I draw a breath and allow it to trickle from my lips. I want to tell her so many things right now. She is a friend, a sister soon, by marriage. But she also works for Tyler. She sleeps with my brother every night. There is a complicated weave to the way we are all connected. Shouldn't you be asking about the status of Dash's Hollywood deal?

As I told Dash, you and Tyler are the dream team, but that doesn't mean I'm not worried. Him getting involved with an employee would look really bad right now. You getting involved with your boss would color the way people look at you, Bella. And I saw the way you looked at each other at the party. Y'all are red-hot together and it's terrifying me for you both.

"Anything interesting going on?"

At the sound of Tyler's voice, I rotate and face him.

"Bella, your order is ready!" comes a shout from the counter.

I hand him my phone, and say, "Read that." With that decision I can't undo, and I'm not sure I should anyway, I walk to the counter. If Allie sees what is going on between us, others will too. We have to deal with this, whatever this is, and deal with it before we return to the main offices.

I grab the drinks, return to hand him his cup, and accept my phone in exchange. "Are you going to ask why I let you read that?"

"I know why you let me read it. You're worried about your reputation at the office."

"And yours. You can't afford—"

"I know. Believe me, I know." He glances at my phone and then at me again. "Typical Allie. She tells it as it is."

"Is that how it is? I don't think we were looking at each other anyway but normal."

"When she saw us, I'd just been between your legs, Bella. Neither of us are objective on that topic."

Heat rushes to my cheeks. "Did you have to be that frank about it?"

"You had me read the message. I thought we were being frank about things?"

"We both knew what happened."

"I damn sure do," he assures me. "And she's right, Bella. We are not good for each other, but there are matters between men and women that are rarely logical."

"We can't have the world look at us and assume we're sleeping together."

A boarding announcement is called over the intercom and Tyler ignores my statement, and says, "That's us." He starts to turn away.

I don't think. I just act. I catch his arm. When his eyes meet mine the punch of awareness between us is almost brutal. "There you go touching me again, Bella," he warns softly.

I'm reminded easily of all the things he said he would do to me if I kept touching him. I release his arm. "Tyler, this is not a non-issue."

"Which is why I say we trade in these coffees for booze on the plane. We have no meetings until tomorrow. And before you say a word, your brother is wrong about alcohol being my addiction. It's not, but I am not without an addiction, Bella." His eyes drop to my mouth and linger before he looks at me with so much heat, it's hard to miss his meaning. He means me. Or sex? Sex with me? "How about that drink?" he asks.

The air crackles between us and my nipples are tingling again, and I am fairly certain I just got wet for this man, in an airport, with what might be a suggestion that I am his addiction. Or not. I don't even know for certain what he was saying.

On that note, I take his coffee from him and walk to the trashcan and throw both cups away.