She thought she accidentally slept with her boss…Then she met his twin brother.
Real talk: I slept with my boss. Back before he even was my boss. Back when I had no clue who he was.
Real talk: My boss is an arrogant jerk. I hate him. If we didn’t work so well together, I would have told him exactly where he could shove his pompous attitude a long time ago.
Turns out…my boss has a twin. Identical twin.
Now I know why he’s always acted like our one night together never happened. Why he acted like he’d never met me before when I started working for him.
It wasn’t him that night. It was his brother.
A brother who’s just as gorgeous as my boss and a hell of a lot nicer.
Real talk: I’m kind of…bothered that it wasn’t my boss that night.
But that’s before certain revelations about that night come to light.
“Why did you keep working here?”
My head snaps up, my confused gaze colliding with Ryder’s. “What?”
His expression is inscrutable, but it’s…intense. Whatever is going on behind his blue eyes must be a doozy. “If you thought you had slept with your boss, why didn’t you just quit?”
“You really want to talk about this now?” While sober?
I do confrontation best with some liquid courage.
He says nothing. Just watches me and waits.
I toss my pen onto the table. “Because if you didn’t remember it happening, then I could pretend like it never did, too. Clean slate.”
When his tongue slowly drags over his lower lip, I can’t tell if he likes that answer or not.
I roll my eyes with a huff. “Plus, not to add to your already inflated ego, this is the best market and ad firm in the area, despite your abhorrent people skills. It was a dream job for me.”
He taps his finger against the gleaming wood of the table. Tap, tap, tap. “You made it clear right from the start that you weren’t my biggest fan. Can I now assume that was because you were angry that I, from your perspective, didn’t remember us having sex?”
I have no answer.
What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I’m afraid the truth will make me sound like a naïve girl who became obsessed with a guy after only one night.
FYI, I didn’t.
Tap, tap, tap of his finger. “But being angry implies that you wanted me to remember.” A muscle pops in his jaw. “It was that good for you?”
‘Kay, now I’m rattled.
Because now I know that I never slept with Ryder Colson. My long-time annoyance with him is unfounded, yet it feels as strong as ever and I don’t know what to do about it.
“We’re not talking about this,” I state firmly.
Seriously? “Because now I know it wasn’t you. Which means that none of this is your business. We”—I gesture between us—“never slept together.”
Your brother and I did was the unspoken part of that sentence.
He hears it. And his nostrils flare.
“You’re right,” he admits gruffly. “It wasn’t me. Because if it had been me, I wouldn’t have forgotten a single detail. Like Myles obviously did.”
My face goes slack.
Did he just—? Did I hear him say—?
Ryder just took us into another realm. Another dimension. For the first time ever, he turned a sexual corner with me. One I thought we both silently agreed to never even approach, let alone maneuver around.
But he went there. He put it out there.
“Are you saying I’m not worth remembering?”
His face darkens, hardens. “Fuck, no. I’m saying anyone who doesn’t remember a night with you didn’t deserve to have you in the first place.”
I just stare…
…and stare some more…
…and drool a little…
I shake my head. Like a dog. What the frig is happening right now?
Is Ryder saying that he wants a night with me? Or is this just some male chauvinist thing where he has to assert himself as the most virile man in the village because he senses another encroaching on his territory?
He does realize I’m not his territory, though, right?
I’m not his anything. Except employee.
“I’d say it’s for me to decide whether or not someone deserves me,” I eventually say, my voice oddly hoarse.
Tap, tap, tap. “You never answered my question.”
I know which one he’s talking about, but I still ask. “What question?”
Tap, tap, tap. “Was it good for you?”
I cross my arms over my chest, assessing him. Okay, fine. He wants to go there? Let’s do this. “We’re talking about your brother here. You really want to know?”
Tap…tap…tap. “He may not remember it, but you clearly do. It couldn’t have been the worst you’ve ever had.”
“What if I said it was the best?”
His face reflects a range of emotions in a matter of seconds that confuses the crap out of me. At first, his eyes crinkle in the corners, as if he’s pleased. Then they narrow to slits as banked fury emanates from them.
“Then I’d say that’s because I haven’t had you.”
My jaw unhinges like a snake’s.
He slowly nods, his eyes burning holes through me. “Yeah, duchess. I said that.”
Traveler. Reader. Beach-goer. St. Louis Cardinals fan. Pasta-obsessed. North Carolina resident. Sarcastic. Bit of a nerd.
Author of the Cruz Brothers, Possession and Politics, and Timid Souls series, Melanie loves all things romance, comedies and suspense in particular because it’s boring to only stick to one sub-genre! From light-hearted comedies to sexy thrillers, she likes to mix it up, but loves her some strong alpha males and sassy heroines.
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