Paws off the Boss, Casey Griffin [ereader for textbooks TXT] 📗

for work at some point, and he leaves me chocolate.”

“What a jerk.”

“I know, right?” She threw him a cheeky smile. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Just trying to keep a level head on your shoulders. I have to be careful with you bringing guns into my house.”

“A girl has to protect herself,” she said. “It’s a dangerous city. My taxi was stolen the other day, you know. Right out from under my nose.”

“I know how you feel, but I have my guard dog to protect me now.” He rolled to a stop at a red light and peered over his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Sophie?”

In response, she leaned on the back of his seat and gave his ear a sloppy kiss.

“That’s some killer you got there.” Piper laughed. “Was this your dad’s car? Or is restoring classics an interest of your own?”

“It started as my hobby, but we worked on it together. We rebuilt the engine years ago.”

“You rebuilt an engine?” she said in disbelief.

“Hey, you don’t have to say it like that. I’m not just a pretty face, you know. I’ve got depth.”

“Depth?”

“Yeah,” he said, going for complete seriousness. “I’m like the ocean.”

“An ocean that rebuilds engines.”

“Yes. I know this thing inside and out. Here, I’ll prove it.”

Reaching over, he grabbed Piper’s hand and placed it on the stick shift. He covered it with his own. She inhaled as her nerve endings went into overdrive, delighting in the warmth of his palm, the gentle sweep of his fingers, the unexpected intimacy of the touch.

The light turned green, and he took off. He shifted from first to second. When he tried to take it into third, he had to jiggle it a little to get it home.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

Oh, she certainly felt something.

“After my dad and I rebuilt the engine, we took it for a spin. It was jumping out of gear, so I had to replace the cogs in the gearbox. It was my first attempt, and I ended up misaligning them.” His smile faded as he turned the next corner. “That was right before he passed away. I’ve never gotten around to fixing it.”

“Well, the car is still pretty amazing,” she said. “Very James Bond. It’s almost as nice as mine.”

“Almost,” he agreed.

She noticed that he still had his hand clasped around hers over the shifter, cupping it as he moved it into fourth. She wasn’t in a rush to remove it.

“Did you buy all the other cars yourself?”

“All handpicked. My dad wasn’t a car collector,” he said. “That was all my addiction. After he passed, he left me the house, but everything in it is mine. I had to make it my own, you know? Otherwise, I would have felt like I was living with his ghost.”

Piper remembered when they had to sell the farm after her dad died. She would have done anything to stay there. Not just because she loved the animals, but because everything reminded her of him. It kept him with her. From the feel of the horse brush in her hand right down to the smell of the fresh hay she used to help him stack. Even now, years later, over the scent of brine wafting in from the bay and the fumes from the old engine chugging away, she could smell it. For just a moment, it brought her back to him.

She wondered, if her brother had come back to help, would they have been able to keep the farm? Would things have been different?

Piper shook off the memory. She didn’t like to go down that path. What was done was done. Ethan had his own life to live and decisions to make. He wasn’t to blame. Either way, her father still would have died, and they probably still would have lost the farm. But Ethan couldn’t have known that. It was his apathy that Piper resented, his reluctance to take action to help his family.

“You don’t think keeping some of his stuff would have made you feel close to him?” she asked Aiden. “Like a part of him was still here?”

“Not for me. I kept a few special items, but I don’t think things make the person. Everything I need in order to feel close to him is up here.” He tapped the side of his head. “My father taught me everything I know. He was a good businessman. Very old-school, so some of my business ideals might seem archaic because of it. But he was successful, so he must have been doing something right. And now, everything I don’t know I fake.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I knew you were a fraud.”

“Yup. I learned that from him too. Confidence was important when I took over as CEO of the company.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Five years. When I was twenty-five. Everyone looked at me like I was some ignorant, privileged kid who didn’t know what was going on.”

“And did you?”

“Not even a little. But you know what they say. Nothing in life worth having comes easy. For years, I worked twelve-hour days, seven days a week, until I got good at the job.” He said it with a weary acceptance, making Piper rethink her earlier assumption that he’d never had to work hard for anything.

It’s not like she knew any other rich people personally, other than her brother. Could she have been drawing parallels that weren’t really there? Now that she thought about it, Ethan was more about showmanship than taking pride in his work, and he wouldn’t ever work on his own car. He’d drive it to the nearest shop and toss the keys to the mechanic like he was Mario Andretti.

Piper turned to Aiden. “Sounds like you worked your tail off to change everyone’s mind.”

“That, and when it comes to confidence, you fake it till you make it. My dad always said that.” He had a wistful expression on his face, one cheek dimpling. “And if you’re ever feeling caught off guard or have lost control over a situation, you can’t go wrong with a good, firm handshake. It’s like a reflex now. A nervous twitch.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Piper bit her lip, but if he noticed she was teasing, he said nothing about it.

So what did that mean? That she caught him off guard? That she made him feel out of control? The idea sent a giddy wave through her.

At the next intersection, she had the urge to take off her seat belt and straddle him, to kiss him already. It was just a kiss, after all. Not like she was marrying the guy.

But instead, she pulled her hand away to play with the dogs in the back. She reminded herself why she’d been reluctant to go down that path—although the specific reasons weren’t coming to her at the moment.

You’re his dog walker, Piper told herself. This is just business.

And she hoped that one day soon she’d believe that.

“Did it work?” she asked Aiden. “The faking it?”

“I’m still learning every day. But I have a lot of experienced people around me to draw from. Like Larry Williams, my chief operations officer, my right-hand man. He’s been with the company from the start. I couldn’t have made it without him.” He glanced over at her. “You would have seen him in the meeting the day we met.”

“Oh, I’ve erased that afternoon from my memory. I don’t even recall which meeting you’re talking about.”

“Not at all? When did we officially meet then?”

Piper thought for a moment. “I guess it was later that day at the center.”

He peered over his sunglasses at her, cheek dimpling. “Is that before or after a German shepherd molested you?”

“Scratch that. I’ve forgotten the entire day.”

“But that was a good day,” he said. “I liked that day.”

“Why? Because you enjoyed my suffering? Is that how you get Aiden Caldwell’s attention? By falling flat on your face and making a complete spectacle of yourself?” Her cheeks burned at the memory. She tilted her head away to stare out the passenger side.

“Hey.” When she didn’t look over, he shook her shoulder playfully, trying to get her attention. “Come on. It was funny.”

She groaned. “I was humiliated.”

“You were memorable.” And by the way he said it, she knew it was a compliment.

Piper was memorable.

There were worse things. She supposed that’s what made him follow her out of his building in the first place and what made him ask her to be his dog walker. Maybe that’s even what kept him walking in the park with her until his late lunch “hour” turned into two, then three, until she had to drag herself away because she was going to be late for a telegram gig. And maybe that’s what made him available for lunch the next day. And the next.

And the next.

And the next …