Page 163 of Boss of Me

A heavy silence engulfs the table, broken only by the tinkle of china and silverware as we finish our lunch without further conversation.

Although I manage to eat, I can barely taste my meal. My head is spinning, doubts and fears swirling in my gut. Am I responsible for the breakup? Did I make unreasonable demands of Gunner? Did I drive him away?

The troubling questions only serve to ramp up my misery and angst.

As we’re leaving the restaurant, my mother says suddenly, “Oh look, darling. Isn’t that your former beau?”

I follow her gaze to a group of businessmen seated around a table in the corner of the courtyard. When I see Gunner among them, my heart slams into my sternum.

He’s leaning back in his chair, a goblet of red wine cradled in his hand, lips twitching indulgently as he listens to some raucous joke. He’s not wearing a suit today, just dark slacks and a blue button-down shirt, cuffs rolled up and collar unbuttoned.

Casual Fridays, I think with a pang as I drink in the sight of him, not knowing when or if I’ll ever get another chance.

“What a delightful surprise,” Mom coos excitedly. “Let’s go say hello.”

I shake my head. “He’s having lunch?—”

“Don’t be a coward, darling. Fortune favors the brave.” Her manicured talons curl into my arm, not so subtly dragging me forward.

As laughter erupts from the table of businessmen, Gunner turns his head in my direction.

When our eyes meet, I skid to a halt. For a split second, something like pleasure lights up his face, disappearing so quickly I wonder if I only imagined it.

He watches me, his eyes veiled and distant. When I remain frozen in place, he sets his glass down, excuses himself from the table and begins walking toward me. I feel my chest tighten and my body start to shake as my mother lets out a purr of approval.

I force myself to keep moving forward. His stare never wavers from me, and I don’t miss the way his eyes skim over my body, sending heat sizzling across my skin.

And then finally we’re standing face to face. Or rather face to chest, since the top of my head has never cleared his shoulders.

“Marlowe.” His voice is low, with just a hint of a rasp.

“Hello,” I say calmly even though everything in me aches to touch him, to press myself against him and feel his arms envelop me once again. “My mother and sister are in town. We were just leaving when we saw you?—”

“And I insisted that we come over and say hello,” Mom gushes in a breathy voice I’ve never heard before.

Between clenched teeth and a tight smile, I introduce Gunner to my mother and sister. They shake hands and exchange warm pleasantries. Though Ember vowed to kick his ass if she ever met him, she looks a bit swoony now that she’s actually in his presence. I can’t really blame her. He seems to have that effect on all women.

Case in point, my mother can’t stop fluttering her lashes at him. “It’s wonderful to finally make your acquaintance, Gunner. Though I was hoping to meet you under better circumstances.”

I can’t interpret the flicker of emotion in Gunner’s eyes. It’s there and gone in a flash before he smooths his features into a polite mask, then tips his head to my mother and sister.

“Pleasure meeting you both. Enjoy your visit.” Sparing me a brief glance, he turns and walks back to his lunch companions.

As we leave the courtyard, Ember wraps an arm around my waist, holding me up when my legs threaten to buckle. She guides me into the backseat of the executive car and hugs me close with her arm around my shoulders, infusing me with her warmth and strength.

“Are you okay?” she whispers.

I’m not, and she knows it. My heart feels like it’s breaking all over again. But I refuse, absolutely refuse, to give in to the tears pricking my eyes.

After speaking to our driver, Mom slides onto the opposite bench seat with a dramatic sigh. “Well,thatwas certainly interesting.”

Ember shoots her a “not now” look.

She ignores her, fanning her face as she gushes breathlessly, “Gunner is even handsomer in person. So tall, so virile. What is he? Six foot four? Good heavens. And what about those gorgeous blue eyes? And thatvoice?—”

“Mom,” Ember warns.

“What? Just because he broke up with your sister doesn’t make him any less attractive.” She sighs pityingly. “My poor daughter. No wonder you couldn’t resist him. You never stood a chance in hell.”