Bastard Boss (Tyler & Bella Duet Book 2) by Lisa Renee Jones

Author:Lisa Renee Jones [Jones, Lisa Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Patra Publishing
Published: 2022-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bella

I quell my nervous energy and force myself to face this moment as if it were any other, not one where my boss who has been between my legs is at my front door. “What are you doing here, Tyler?”

“I thought you might need help with your luggage.”

“I’m not even done packing. You were supposed to text me ten minutes before you got here and you’re twenty minutes early.”

“Invite me in and I’ll wait.”

My brows dip. “Is this payback for me showing up at your door unannounced?”

“I’m not unannounced. You knew I was coming. Invite me in, Bella.” His voice is a low command with a raspy, almost intimate quality.

I hesitate and then ease back onto the foyer, folding my arms in front of me, as if that will stop my breasts from aching simply because he’s in my presence.

“There’s Diet Coke and baked Cheetos in the kitchen, but not much,” I say flippantly, as if he would eat a baked Cheeto, or at least admit to it. “Make yourself at home. Not really. Just sit somewhere. I have to finish getting ready.” But I don’t immediately step away. I’m suddenly wondering what he sees when he sees my home. Beyond this room, my living area has vaulted ceilings with wooden beams and a stunning chandelier I still love since I had it installed two years ago. My furniture is a mix of brown and white linens, while my fireboard is this magical, dark wooden masterpiece. The kitchen, which overlooks the living area, is a mix of wood and white marble. It’s a beautiful place, of that I know, but what does it say about me?

Alone with nothing to do but decorate, I think.

“Bella?” Tyler questions.

“Yes?” I mentally shake myself and motion behind me, telling him where to go wait, as I’ve instructed. “I’m going upstairs. You stay here.”

His eyes light with what appears to be amusement. My discomfort amuses him. This doesn’t surprise me one little bit. “You should hurry,” he encourages. “We’re flying commercial. I thought you’d be more comfortable that way.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” I say flatly.

“That way you don’t have to be alone with me,” he replies.

“Like I am now?” I challenge, somehow offended by the idea that he chose to place a barrier between us. I’ve known the man for years. We have been alone many times without any hands on each other. We probably aren’t even sitting together. Maybe he’s in first and I’m in coach. That will teach me to bring him ice cream.

“We have a flight to catch.” He glances at his watch and then at me. “You have ten minutes to get ready or we might be flying private anyway.”

Whatever, I think. He’s really a bastard, and I don’t analyze why that’s the thought I have right now. It just is. All the analyzing of myself objectively is out the door when he’s inside my house. I cut my gaze and hurry up the stairs, which wind left and then right before I’m on the top level.

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