Hard to Judge: A Dark MMF Billionaire Romance (Pieces of Us Book 3) by Meg Everly

Author:Meg Everly [Everly, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

I’m not nervous by nature. The fact that I picked a cuticle until it bled during the drive makes me slam the car door. My Mustang 390 GT shimmies her sleek black chassis. The muscle car can take it. Thank goodness. It’s not her fault I’m freaking the fuck out.

No, that’s on Hailey’s head.

She ripped herself open last night and gave me a piece of her heart. I don’t know if she realizes it, and I don’t know if I’ll have to give it back.

“Helllloooo, gorgeous.” Dobson strolls to a stop near the rear of my car. He’s talking to her, not me. And that’s just fine. She’s a whole new car compared to when I found her three years ago. “You finally broke down and tinted the windows.” He smacks her ass. “Sexy.”

I’d wanted to keep her as close to classic as possible, but I fucking hated people being able to see in all the time.

“Why didn’t you ride with Arlo?” His thick brow narrows on me. “You always ride to after-work drinks with him.” He scrubs a hand down his beard, and his brow waggles. His Scottish accent is thicker today. Like he’s already loosened his tie and hit the after-hours’ sauce.

“Oh, his lady love is coming with him. Probably didn’t want to interrupt their back-seat tango.”

That’s not the reason, yet the words sting.

They probably wouldn’t mind me watching or even participating, but I don’t know when they’ll pull the plug on this little escapade. And sure as shit, it terrifies me.

Everything we’ve done makes me crave more.

Arlo had nothing but praise for me at the office this morning. The praise had nothing to do with my mathematical abilities and everything to do with my deviant side. But that’s not all that was exchanged last night.

“I had a meeting at the Naval Militia Base in Flushing,” I grouse.

“Oh.” Dobson claps a hand on my back, rattling my ribs. The guy makes me look slight. “Right then. Drink?” He ambles toward the entrance to one of our favorite after-hours spots.

He limps a little. More than a little really and my head cocks. “Are you trashed or injured?”

His eyes roll, and he waves me off.

“Dobs?” I demand.

He keeps walking like I would when someone pokes somewhere I don’t want them.

“Had to sauce it up to see Karris outside of work again?” I prod where I know I’ll get a reaction.

Sure enough, he wheels on me. The hair on his face scrunches, and his lips form an impressive snarl. I give him a deep yawn.

“Fucker,” he snarls. “Injured, not sauced. Though I might need to be to deal with your ass.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Injured how?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s how.” He glares and turns toward the entrance.

“This isn’t over.”

He flips me the bird while still holding the door for me.

What a gentleman.

A second before I get there, he releases it to slam back toward my face. I grab it in time to save my nose.

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