Bad Boss by Brooke Page

Author:Brooke Page [Page, Brooke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-29T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Mr. Craft, maybe you should just take me home,” I said nervously, standing outside of the passenger side of his Maserati. He had opened the door, waiting for me to get into his car.

“Stop overthinking this,” he smiled. “I know you’re not tired, and I can tell you’re curious.”

“Whatever freaky shit you’re into, I’m going to doubt I’ll be down with.”

He adjusted his hat. “Get into the car, Kelsey.”

I took a sharp inhale, then did as he asked. Why was I following his orders? Was it because he was using my first name? Dumb. Not like it was a turn-on when someone else said my name.

He closed my side door and walked to his. The leather interior was appealing to my nostrils, and the faint scent of his cologne mixed perfectly with the new car smell.

I glanced at the clock. 12:15am. “Nothing good ever happens this late at night,” I sighed while buckling my seatbelt.

“I wouldn’t put a time stamp on trouble,” he smirked, checking his mirrors and starting his car. Peeling out of the parking spot, he added, “Seems to follow me no matter what hour of the day.”

He blew through the parking ramp and passed the VIP access exit. “Maybe I should jump out of the car then.”

“What fun would that be?”

This playful side of Craft was weird. I was used to the straight arrow, no-nonsense Craft. “I think it’d be quite painful actually,” I grumbled.

“Then let’s stay put. I’m already running late. The guys are going to grab me by the balls now.”

Was he being serious or hypothetical?

“Thankfully, we’re close by.” He weaved in and out of traffic at a rapid pace, and if he weren't such a smooth driver I’d have been fearful for my life.

“Here we are,” he smiled, parking on the street in front of an old and narrow building. The walls were thick concrete matching the steps that lead to the entrance. The bushes were overgrown and bars guarded the windows on the lower level.

“This doesn’t scream creepy at all,” I mumbled, taking in the unkempt unit.

“He just bought it a week or so ago. He’s working from the inside out.” I lifted a brow, and he scowled, then climbed out of his side of the car. I followed, well aware this might be the end. Craft was by my side before I could close the door. “Do you always judge a book by its cover?”

I shook my head, curious why his mood was shifting. The hard look and harsh tone was more his style, but a fraction of me was beginning to enjoy his more relaxed side.

“Then stop being one of those girls,” he snipped.

I crossed my arms, not budging from my spot. “You don’t know me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I know more than you think.”

Now I was glowering at him. “Why? Because you boss me around all day and I comply? Newsflash, I have to do what you say at work!”

His eyes danced. “I know how you take your coffee,

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