Boss Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance by Black, L. (big screen ebook reader txt) 📗

Matt left first while I settled the bill. I figured he needed a little pick-me-up and told him he could get our drinks the first night in Portland if we ended up there. He snickered, but it worked. A lunch tab at a sandwich shop was a small price to pay to quell some of his bitching. He was a good kid and a damn fine brother, but the difference in age and experience meant sometimes I had a little less tolerance for his dramatics. Not that I had a whole lot of tolerance for anyone’s dramatics, but Matt was around me more often.

By the time I got to work, Matt was already halfway through condiment prep and Mason and Tyler had the rest of the place ready to rock. I grinned, thinking it would be nice to get through a shift where all I had to do was keep the trains running on time and kindly quiet any rebellion among the peanut gallery. It wasn’t a job I did proper, but keeping the peace had kind of fallen on my shoulders on nights I was there. We employed bouncers on occasion for the big theme nights, but on a regular weekend, either Mason or I was on the floor, making sure things were going smoothly if we weren’t otherwise occupied behind the bar.

The night started off pretty low-key. Mason handled the bar without needing much backup, despite the increasing flow of what looked like overgrown children filing into the bar. It was weird that I saw them that way, I knew, but anyone younger than twenty-five was completely indiscernible to me from a teenager. They all could be college seniors or high school sophomores, and I wouldn’t know the difference without seeing some ID.

Then, like clockwork around midnight, two guys started having slurred words and their friends began to take sides. Words were said about girlfriends and mothers and a mixture of the two, and tables got moved unceremoniously. At that point, someone had to step in before the bloodshed, and I made eye contact with Mason and Tyler, who were both busy at that moment. I nodded and walked toward the group.

“Break it up,” I said in my best authoritative voice. It seemed to work a bit as most of the crowd around them scattered, but the two would-be fighters were still staring at each other.

“Fuck off, old man,” one of them said, and I smirked. Old man.

“Shut your face, child,” I said. It was enough to get him to turn and look at me. His legs seemed to have trouble with the new distribution of weight, and he stumbled before righting the ship and leaning dangerously close to me for someone who was looking as aggressive as he was. He had one finger out, theoretically to waggle. Also, theoretically as a target for me to break.

“I’m no child,” he said.

“You’re drunk is what you are,” I said. “Which means you are done at my bar, getting into a car that someone else is driving, and going somewhere to sleep it off.”

“Give me three seconds and one good punch and I can make him sleep it off right here,” the other one said. The chorus of juvenile “ooohs” accompanied as the kid I was talking to turned back to face him.

“I’ll beat you the shit,” he said, causing a moment of confusion among the entire group.

“Come on, then,” the other one said, taking a boxer’s stance.

“I said out, both of you,” I said, pushing the kid on the shoulder. He seemed to go rather willingly, and both of them shuffled to the door.

“I’ll whip your ass, too, Old Man,” said the one who had not yet insulted me.

“Hard to whip my ass when you’re unconscious, you little prick. Now move,” I said, pushing him lightly on the back. He sprawled himself out on the concrete a moment later, unable to get his feet under him to move fast enough to catch up with the reality of gravity. Rolling over to his back, he flipped me the bird, and I shook my head. One of their friends came up and assured me they were getting rides—separate rides—and going home.

When they were all gone and out of the parking lot, I walked back inside. Mason and Tyler were behind the bar, and I walked up to it without saying anything about it. Tyler clapped me on the back, laughing.

“Son of a bitch,” he said. “Maybe we ought to just have you be the bouncer from now on.”

“Ha,” I said without humor.

“It would save us a fortune on theme nights,” Mason said. “Plus, you’d get a fancy black shirt out of the deal. Ava could make it glittery, too.”

“Very funny,” I said. “I don’t think that sounds fun at all.”

“Who said anything about being fun?” Mason said, and I laughed. After that, the night wasn’t so bad.

8 Hannah

The next day I couldn’t stop thinking about Jordan and how he’d handled the guys the night before. I tried to focus on going through the list of tasks I made for myself that morning, including washing a couple of loads of laundry and vacuuming the carpets through my house. But no matter how hard I tried not to think about him, my mind kept wandering back over.

I knew he was strong and powerful from the moment I’d met him. Jordan just carried that presence about him. That, though, was a different side of him. He was incredible as he took control and asserted himself in a completely undeniable way without making himself seem like a jerk.

It didn’t just impress me. It completely turned me on. My body had woken up and was buzzing with desire the longer I thought about him. Putting away the vacuum, I decided to take a shower, thinking it might cut through the fog.

Almost as soon as I got into the shower, I knew that wasn’t going to work out. The