Mister Bossy (Bad Boys in Love Book 4)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Eli is crouched down on the floor next to my bed. Surrounded by paper. So much paper. Trial transcripts. Court judgments. Police reports.

  My letters.

  My private letters clutched in his hands.

  No, no, no.

  The pit of my belly drops to the floor. My chest is burning when I force myself to meet his gaze. His expression scorches me like acid, especially knowing that my actions caused the sting of betrayal I see on his face.

  The optimistic part of me makes a quick appearance, desperately searching for the silver lining. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe we can put the secrets behind us now. Maybe the truth will set us free of the lies that have been caging us both.

  One look at those dark, stormy eyes, and I know there’s no silver lining here.

  Only hellfire. Only fury. Only hate.

  Feet glued to the floor, I curl my fingers into fists at my side. “Eli, w-what are you doing?”

  His gaze skims over me, like he’s seeing me for the very first time, with fresh eyes. But it’s clear that he doesn’t like what he sees.

  Slowly, he rises to his feet, the letters all balled up in his hands. “You’re…you’re Monica…?”

  His words come out like a question but I don’t answer him. He already knows. No point in denying it. Nothing I could say could justify it.

  I wish like hell it hadn’t come out like this. I’d wanted to tell him all along. Especially after we’d started getting closer. But it never felt like the right time. The walls between us had finally started crumbling down, and I didn’t want this truth to create a new one.

  Like it’s doing now.

  Shaking with a dozen different emotions, I start to cry. I press my lips into a thin line. “You have no right to just barge in here like this and go through my stuff. It’s an invasion of my privacy,” I bite. My words are spiked with anger but I’m no idiot. I know the only person I can be mad at is myself.

  This isn’t how I wanted to tell him. Sopping wet and cold. Dripping on the floor like a drowned rat. Knowing I betrayed him and that I don’t have a chance in hell of convincing him otherwise.

  His head rears back. “An invasion of your privacy?” He takes wide angry strides toward me until he’s towering over me. “You’re holding onto a stack of my letters. Letters, where I spilled my entire fucking soul to a woman I trusted. And you’re trying to lecture me about invading your privacy?!”

  Blinking through my tears, I’m trying to figure out the right words to say to the man I’m in love with. “You sent me those,” I whisper. “Those letters are mine. I didn’t make you write all that.”

  I don’t know why I’m trying to justify my behaviour. I’m only digging my hole deeper. Fuck—I know I was wrong.

  He throws two fistfuls of letters onto the floor. “Are you fucking kidding me, Jessa?”

  What’s left of my heart deflates in my chest as I watch him discard something that means so much. Those letters mean so much to me.

  His eyes narrow on my face. “Fuck those letters. You are not the woman I sent those to. I don’t even know who you are.” Every word he says to me is a poisoned arrow through my heart.

  “Eli,” I beg, angrily wiping a tear from my cheek. “I promise. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I wasn’t trying to…” I can’t seem to find the right words. I feel awful. I don’t know how to make this right.

  “Trying to what?” he booms.

  “I…I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

  He shakes his head, those dark eyes shooting me with utter disappointment. I hate the way he’s looking at me right now.

  He grinds his jaw. His arms shake at his sides as rage vibrates through him. “Get out, Jessa. Or whoever the hell you are.”

  My breath quickens, out of control. No. No, no, no. "You can’t do this. You have to hear me out." He has to understand where I was coming from. Why I did what I did. “Eli, let me expl—”

  “Jessa,” he growls quietly. It’s the calm, hushed tone of a man at the end of his rope. “Take your shit and get out of my house. Get away from my daughter. Get away from me. Now.” Abruptly, he turns to exit the room.

  “Eli—I…” When I speak, he pauses in the doorway. “I’m sorry…” The words feel so inadequate, but it’s the truth.

  He doesn’t look back. He just thunders out of the room.

  Sobs try to crack free of my chest as I gaze at the crumpled mess of letters on the wet floor, ink bleeding through the soggy sheets of paper.

  I’ve ruined everything for us.

  Left with no other option, I do what he asked me to. Taking only what can fit into my suitcases, I get into my rickety car and drive away…leaving my broken heart on Eli’s bedroom floor.

  53

  Eli

  That deadline I was so hung up on? I missed it by a mile.

  That sensitive email about budget cutbacks I tried sending to just Cannon? Yep, I emailed the whole fucking office.

  Those out-of-town meetings I’d been considering traveling to? That definitely did not happen.

  To say that my work performance has been shit would be the understatement of the year. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Cannon is reviewing our partnership agreement right this minute, looking for a way out.

  I want this, I do. Taking back my career is a big part of gaining control over my life. It’s a big part of setting Callie and me on a successful path. But it’s hard to stay focused and committed to a job when the rest of my life is falling apart.

  However, I’m a single dad so I can’t afford to sit around and lick my wounds. And I already let one woman’s deceit upend my entire life. I’m not about to make that a trend.

  So, I suck it up. Hold my head up like a fucking man. I can handle this on my own.

  After firing the nanny, I made a genuine attempt at working from my house. But teleworking didn’t go too well for me thanks to the spotty internet connection on my side of the family property. Every video meeting was a garbled, incoherent mess. I didn’t get anything worthwhile done during that time, except for some lunchtime father-daughter fishing and some unattractive finger painting right before bed.

  The truth is I was terrified to ask for help out of fear that someone might try to take my daughter away. Eventually, I caved and hired help. A cranky old bat who answered my Help Wanted ad in the local newspaper.

  Anyway, now that I’m finally back working from the office, I spend a good portion of my days checking in on the nanny cams I installed at the house. I guess you could say that after getting screwed over back-to-back by the last two women I relied on, I’m not exactly in a trusting spirit anymore.

  The lady seems decent enough, but I’m not crazy about her. She was just the best option we could get on such short notice.

  She doesn’t seem crazy about me either. She spends all day watching crime TV shows, and when I get home, she stares at me like she expects to bust me committing some unspeakable act. There’s no telling what rumors she’s heard about Eli Kingston, the black sheep convict son.

  When she’s not busy clutching her purse, she lectures me about how I parent my daughter, the cartoons Callie watches, and the untidy outdoor messes she gets into.

  Plus, I don’t think Callie likes her much either. Last night when I was tucking her into bed, she told me the old woman smelled bad. Like old potato chips and dead flowers, Callie said.

  The thing I’ve come to learn about my daughter in the past weeks? She has one of those mirror personalities. If someone else is happy and laughing, she positively glows. But, if you're being a sourpuss, well, she’s got that figured out too. Now, she barely says a word over dinner. She just sits there pushing her food around her plate or stirring her unwanted cup of milk with her finger. All of my moping around is wearing her down, and I hate it.

  I don’t know what the hell to do. I don’t have time to fire the caregiver, start over, and hire someone new. I can’t miss more work, especially when I’m s
o far behind. But Callie’s my everything, and her happiness and safety rise above any missed meetings at work.

  I hate that Jessa put us in this position. She did this. She screwed everything up for Callie and me.

  Things were great for my daughter. Callie loved that crazy little woman. The child considered her nanny nothing less than family. Every night that Callie asks me about Jessa kills off another piece of me. She misses her so much, and it’s just not fucking fair.

  And all the questions Callie has…

  Where did Jessa go? When is she coming back? Why didn’t she say goodbye? Did I do something wrong? Is that why she doesn’t like me anymore?

  My heart fucking breaks for the kid. I blame it all on that damn pretty, enchanting, deceitful woman.

  Did I do the right thing?

  Sometimes I wish I had at least let Jessa explain what the hell she was doing with that damn dossier about me. Maybe then I could stop wondering what the real story is behind her lies. Maybe then I could get a good night’s rest and be able to see my computer straight during the day.

  I’ve been sitting at my desk, tinkering with this stupid spreadsheet for two hours now. Either I’ve forgotten how to add or I typed in all the formulas wrong, but either way, it’s clearly not correct. My numbers aren’t making sense, and Cannon needs this data for a meeting in fifteen minutes.

  I press the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, hoping that will provide some relief. It doesn’t.

  My door swings open after a single knock, banging into the wall.

  I scowl. “Yes. Please come in,” I deadpan to my brother. No fucking manners. You’d think he was the one who just got out of jail.

  “The acquisition analysis for the Barre Investments file. Have you been working on that again?” His tone is…off. He almost sounds suspicious about something. Like he’s trying to solve a mystery and I’m at the root of it.

  I frown harder. “No. What are you talking about?”

  “I was taking a look at the reports on our drive, and it seems like something in the data changed. Just thought maybe you were in there fiddling with it.”

  My eyes narrow on Cannon. What the hell is he getting at? He knows I’m not working on that analysis. I finished it two days ago, and it’s been out of my hands ever since. “Are you accusing me of something, Cannon?”

  If so, he better spit it the fuck out. I don’t have time to be speaking in circles right now. I need to jump back on the nanny cam and make sure Callie finished her lunch.

  He grunts. “No, I’m not accusing you of anything. Just…just double check your work, man.”

  With that, he pivots and slams the door behind him.

  “Double check this,” I mutter, slipping off my shoe and launching it at the closed door. The loud thump gives me just enough satisfaction to suffer through the rest of my day.

  54

  Jessa

  My pulse starts to mimic the Hammer Time beat the second I spot Eli’s Audi turn up the end of his long driveway. Swallowing back—well, I can’t even remember the last meal I ate—I force myself to my feet.

  Here goes nothing…

  I watch with pulsing jitters as the car draws closer and comes to a stop. He gets out. I’ve been sitting here for a long while now, waiting for this very moment.

  After the first hour, my butt started to ache. But it was the painful type of ache, not the welcome kind of sting that blazes across my skin when Eli’s getting frisky with me. God, I miss getting spanked by him.

  I miss touching him. And kissing him. And falling asleep in his arms.

  Why does he have to be so darn handsome? My eyes roam over all of him. I’m not sure it’s possible, but in the time I’ve been gone, sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms in my sister’s big old mansion, I think Eli Kingston has managed to grow even better-looking.

  My mind is spiraling.

  “Go away, Jessa.” He strides right past me toward the door, his tired voice cutting through the silent air. His eyes don’t even stray in my direction and that makes me feel two feet tall. But I’ve waited all this time to speak to him and I refuse to be ignored.

  “No,” I say, mustering a surprising amount of strength. “I need you to listen to me.”

  At my outburst, he spares me a look. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re going to confuse my daughter by showing up like this.”

  “First of all, I know that Callie isn’t at home right now. That’s part of why I came here when I did. I saw her in town, going to her play group with her new nanny, I guess.” Boy, that was a hard image. Seeing that god-awful woman hustling my Callie along.

  It took divine intervention to continue driving on by when I saw the broken look on the little girl’s sweet face. I wanted nothing more than to give Callie a hug and to smell her bubblegum shampoo and to listen to her sweet giggles. But I had to keep my distance.

  Eli’s hand falls from the door knob and he turns to me with his mouth pressed into a thin line. Well, he hasn’t barricaded himself inside yet, so maybe…maybe I’ve got a shot here.

  “You don’t have to speak,” I promise. “I know that what I did was fucked up. And I know that the last thing you want is a confrontation after a long day of work, but I can’t sleep until I get this off my chest. All I want is to explain…Even if I don’t really deserve the chance.”

  I’m not feeling very much self-love these days. I’m not sure what I deserve in this very messy situation. I really made a clusterfuck of everything. Let’s just face it—what I did was fucked up. Even if I did it with the purest of intentions, clearing the name of the man I love. My heart is broken for the secrets I kept from Eli. For what my secrets have done to Callie.

  The man just stares at me. When our eyes lock, the stony expression on his face seems to soften. But maybe that’s wishful thinking. I have no idea what he’s thinking anymore. A few short days ago, I always knew exactly what was going through his mind when that dark stare fell over me. But today? Nothing. He’s completely boarded up.

  He clears his throat. “The clock is ticking, Jessa.”

  My heart soars optimistically. I brave a step closer. “The papers you found that day…I’m sure you’re wondering what those are about? I want you to understand…”

  “Oh, the fact that you’ve been spying on me? Building a goddamned dossier on everything about me? Yes, please do tell.”

  My chest falls under the weight of his words. Okay, I’m clearly getting Sarcastic Eli today. If that’s all he’s giving me, I can work with that, I guess.

  I take a deep breath and blurt everything out. “The minute I met Callie, after I started working with her, I fell in love with her. She was so sweet and intelligent and precocious…It made me curious about her parents. About you. She’s such an amazing kid, and it broke my heart that she didn’t have her mom and dad.” I pull my fingers through my hair and take a breath. “Crescent Harbor is a small town…and I’d heard things, y’know?”

  He’s standing close to the door. Probably ready to make a run for it, if I say something he doesn’t like.

  I can’t meet his eyes right now. I don’t want him to see me cry. I don’t deserve his sympathy after what I’ve done. I give him my back and turn to face the river, half-wishing for his arms to suddenly come around me. But I soldier on with my confession. “So I began to look into you. I searched for you on the internet and when I saw on the prison website that you were interested in communicating with a penpal, I reached out to you. I didn’t want it getting back to my new bosses, so I used a fake name.” I spin around to face him, my eyelashes heavy with tears. I plead with him to understand. “I never thought it would lead to anything, I promise, Eli. But we started writing to each other. And I…I liked you. And you seemed to like me. And one thing led to another. So, I started researching everything about your case. I guess at first, it felt like this fascinating mystery to unravel. But then, through your letters, I got to know you. The real Eli Kingston was still just as fascinating, but ther
e was so much more to you.”

  I don’t bother to stop the tears now. Thinking back to what—for me—was the start of our relationship. A ‘peculiar’ relationship, sure. But a real relationship, nonetheless.

  Those early letters were the start of our flirting, the sharing of our first secrets, the undeniable trust that developed between us for some reason that defied logic.

  “Then why hide it all?” he says in a growl. “Why lie about being Monica after I got home? You could have said something right then and there. The day you moved into my house. You could have come clean.”

  I give a feeble shrug, lifting only one shoulder, feeling weak and pathetic. “I thought I’d lose my job. I thought my friends would be pissed at me and…I knew I wasn’t the type of woman you’d want.” It’s a lame excuse, but it’s coming from an honest place. I wanted Eli’s love. More than anything.

  There’s something more important I want to say to him, and I need to do it before I lose my nerve. I have to understand. I have to get answers.

  “I know you didn't do it,” I say quietly, pinning him with my stare. “I know you didn’t commit those crimes.”

  Eli’s entire body goes tense. His eyes, his jaw, his fists. He turns and stalks across the porch. And that, right there, is my answer.

  He’s standing near the railing on the opposite side of the porch, staring out over the picturesque view.

  When he doesn’t comment or ask what I’m talking about, I keep going anyway, desperate for the truth. “I know you didn’t steal that money, Eli. Gabby did. She stole it, and you took the fall for her. I just want to know why.”

  He scoffs. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Tell me the truth,” I demand with a stomp.

  “Let it go, Jessa.” He sounds less than impressed.

  “I can’t. Don’t you see that I’ve tried? This isn’t right. You owe it to your daughter to clear your name. To fix this.”