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River had put goal-setting at the beginning of the retreat, but I didn’t feel comfortable doing that since I just found out that Darian Enterprises is a digital consulting firm.

I still don’t know exactly what that is.

Wade agreed it would work better for him to take over that part.

Wade separates his managers into three groups to set goals and then work on brainstorming issues.

Legal and HR. Finance and Marketing. IT and the managers over the support staff.

I use my free time wisely, not staring at Wade and remembering how his body felt against mine. No, I’m productive as I review the materials River put together for the retreat. There are a few activities I’m not a fan of.

Nobody likes trust falls. I might push that one to later in the week.

The first activity involves notecards, and it’s clever.

If I’d focused more on the activity and less on how well Wade fills out his cargo shorts and short-sleeve button-down—seriously, the man makes camping look hot—maybe I’d have realized why this activity is a bad idea.

Or at least I would’ve moved it indoors.

My only excuse is the patch of hair peeking out from the collar on Wade’s shirt.

But I forge ahead with my activity. After introducing myself, again, I hand out notecards and Sharpies and have each person write the letters of their names.

One letter for each card. “This is like a giant crossword puzzle,” I say, “or Scrabble. Do we have any Scrabble players?” Carol from HR raises her hand and so does Sheila from marketing.

“I like crossword puzzles,” George admits, although he sounds reluctant.

“No surprise to anyone,” Al mutters, and Wade glares at him.

“Anyone want to start us off?”

Lydia stands. “I should go first since I have so many letters in my name. It’ll be easiest for people to connect.”

“Great idea, Lydia.” And for a minute, I feel hopeful that this might work. Lydia spells her first name out on the ground.

“I’m not going next.” Owen motions to the cards. “There is literally nothing there for me to connect to.”

“I’ll go next, dear,” Sheila says in her Scottish accent. She’s petite. Is she even five feet tall? She connects Sheila to Lydia, sharing the last A in both names. “There you go.”

“I might as well get mine over with.” Al puts his A over the L in Lydia’s name. Vivian is up. She uses the I in Sheila to connect her name. After Owen adds his, the cards rustle a little.

There isn’t much wind at the moment, so that seems weird. George adds his name, and Jet is right behind him, connecting the Es, when the cards scatter. The breeze is coming from behind me. I turn, but now it’s calm.

“Are you okay?” Owen asks, but I’m distracted by Jet running after his cards. Al stands there with his arms folded as the cards flutter away. He’s such an asshole.

Whether we continue this activity or not, we still have to clean up our mess. I scramble to gather the remaining cards. Jet hands me his stack. “Thank you.”

“Should we try again?” Carol asks.

“What’s the point? It’s not gonna work,” Al says, unsurprisingly.

“Let’s use one piece of paper,” Ander says. Using the marker, he adds the letters that were already in place. Everyone huddles around the paper, adding their names.

It’s less effective, and I feel like the activity has lost its meaning,

Wade watches, almost expressionless. I can’t tell if he’s pissed or irritated or just done. Great. But at least he won’t fire me.

Our paper really isn’t big enough, but we cram all the names onto one side and make it work. I attempt my debriefing. “So this activity is supposed to be about how we’re all connected and depend on each other.

“Not how we scatter so easily at the first strong wind?”

Everyone laughs, and I smile at Al. Not to encourage him, but laughing is better than crying. I’m not sure I made much of an impact. What am I even doing here?

Wade squeezes the back of my arm at his favorite spot. “Do you want to do another activity?”

“Yeah. Sure.” But then I stop. It also involves notecards. Should I move them all inside? There isn’t any wind now. I rub my eyes and stare at the main hall. Wildflowers line the front, surrounded by rocks. It gives me an idea. “So this activity also involves index cards, but?—”

“Great,” Al says in a sarcastic tone. “Don’t expect me to chase them down.”

Owen laughs at this, and Dillian elbows him.

I open my mouth to explain how this will be different, but I don’t get the chance.

“Enough,” Wade says, storming to the front.

The campers go quiet. I swear even the birds have stopped singing.

“This is unacceptable.” He glares at every single person.

This is bosshole Wade. I remember him. “You will respect Canyon, or you can leave—but don’t bother coming back.

To the camp. Or to work.” He settles his glare on Al.

Oh Jesus. “It’s fine, Wade?—”

He turns his glare on me, and my mouth snaps shut. Not because I’m intimidated by him. I’m pissed. But yelling at him in front of his employees would just make things worse.

But I don’t step back, and I’ll take any win I can get at this point.

“Are we clear?” he says to his employees.

There are various mumbles of “yes, sir” and most have their heads down.

Sheila sighs. Al glares at the ground. Jared watches Wade, and I have a feeling he’s running through the legalities involved in torturing your employees.

The IT guys trade oh shit looks. Ander…he’s gritting his teeth, and his entire body seems tense.

Is he mad at the employees or his brother?

Doesn’t matter. I need to nip this behavior in the bud. Respectfully. “W—Mr. Darian, sir?” Can I speak to you for a moment? Please?” His eyes narrow. Yeah. Laying it on a little thick, but I’m practically shaking with anger, and I need to get him alone before I start yelling.

Wade tries to put his mask back on, but his anger bleeds through like the purple sock that ruined River’s baseball pants when I was first navigating the surprise-now-you’re-the-parent phase of our brotherly relationship. Spoiler alert: the pants were ruined.

And Wade looks like he really wants to ruin something.

Not like that.

Although I can’t deny a part of me has a bosshole-kink. And we all know which part.

“We’re on a schedule, Mr. Drake. I think this can wait.”

Kink gone. Jerkwad. I keep my voice calm- ish . “I’m not sure it can, sir.”

Ander jumps up. “Why don’t I get everyone started while you both…talk?”

My gaze darts to his face, but he looks innocent. Something I’ve noticed more and more. How much of Ander’s scared-of-his-own-shadow act is, well, an act? “Perfect,” I say before Wade can say otherwise. I explain my plan and what I need him to do.

He nods. “Do you want us to wait for you?”

“Absolutely.” I shift my gaze to Wade. He’s fuming. There’s no other way to describe it. He’s about to blow up, and I need to move him away from everyone to contain the blast. “We won’t take long.”

I stomp off, giving Wade no choice but to follow.

“Everyone find two rocks each.” Ander’s voice is surprisingly confident. “They need to be big enough to write a letter on.”

Wade catches up to me but doesn’t try to lead. The activities hall—where we should have probably done these—is far enough away. But not too far. Thanks to the wind that is now picking up, we can still hear Ander leading the group.

“Are we doing anagrams with our names this time?” Al asks with a sneer in his voice.

Without even thinking, I grab Wade’s arm mid-turn. “Nope. They’re fine.”

He grumbles and keeps moving forward, but I hold on to his arm just in case.

“Al, you can sit this one out if it’s going to be a problem.” Jared sounds calm from here. Deceptively calm.

“Wait, Owen…Dillian. No wandering off. Stick to this area.”

Jesus. They’re all just a bunch of kids.

We reach the building, and as soon as the door closes behind us, Wade is in my face. And not in a fun, sexy way. “Do not undermine me in front of my employees. I forbid?—”

“Forbid? Huh. Okay, I think we’ve found your loyalty problem.”

He takes a deep breath, and I swear he’s about to roar. He seems to double in size. No, not like that. “I don’t need you telling me how to treat my employees, Canyon.”

I laugh in his face. “Really? Isn’t that the reason I’m here? Because you actually do need help.”

“You’re here because your brother?—”

“Don’t you dare,” I say, advancing on him until he backs into the pool table.

“You hired me because you needed someone who isn’t you .

” I jab his chest on the last words to really make my point.

“Diversity, my ass. Your loyalty issues can be directly linked to your—” I cut off my words.

Not because they aren’t true. It’s the absolute truth.

But he’s not ready to hear it, and that isn’t really the issue.

I take a calming breath. “I get it. You want them to listen to me. Respect me.”

He doesn’t respond. His lips are pressed together as if it’s a Herculean effort to not speak. He folds his arms against his chest. Enacting every barrier he can.

The fight drains out of me. “I appreciate you coming to my rescue, Wade?—”

“That’s not?—”

“Zip it,” I say, miming zipping my mouth shut.

His mouth drops open, but he just as quickly closes it and readjusts his stance.

I nod, acknowledging his unspoken words.

“I understand you want respectful employees. But we both know part of that was you trying to protect me.” I touch his arm, and he doesn’t flinch or move, so I squeeze—wow, the muscles in his forearms are…

not the point. “But you standing up for me implies I can’t protect myself. That I need rescuing…”

Oh. Oh. My heart races…and it’s way ahead of my thoughts. Existing is nice, hun. But living is so much better. All this time, I’ve tried to convince others I could do things. But I’m the one waiting around for a fairy Godmother or a stupid prince to rescue me. I’m the one who needs convincing.

His eyes soften. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“Save it.” But I smile so my words don’t sting. “There are times when you’re in charge and times when I’m in charge. Got it?”

He bites his lip as his gaze wanders over me. Damn. “Got it.”

I shake my head. Partly to clear the hazy lust threatening my composure. “If you can’t behave during my sessions, I will be forced to”—remove you—“ask you to leave. Do you understand?”

I expect him to challenge me, but he again surprises me. “Yes.”

All the energy from expecting a fight is left with nowhere to go. “Fine. Thank you.” I turn to leave…for sanity reasons.

“One more thing, Mr. Drake?”

I swallow my sudden jitters and face him. “Yes?”

“It’s so fucking hot when you take charge.” He grabs my shirt and hauls me against him like I weigh nothing. It also exposes my collarbone, but before I can freak out, he kisses me.