Page 18 of Single Mom’s Secret Diary (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)

Avery

I t’s been a couple of weeks, and my taste buds have finally realigned. I’m so happy to be back in the lab and back to work. Sitting around an office is not what I was made for. Although, having each of the men come visit me there for a little play hasn’t been a bad consolation in the meantime.

Wyatt is bustling around as I watch, cleaning and double-checking every surface before he takes a breath.

His eyes are wild. He stands beside me at our preferred lab table.

Laurel has been scurrying across the room, checking and rechecking inventory for her quarterly review.

It’s pretty clear that she chose now to do so because I’m here.

Too bad for Wyatt, who will only sneak a touch or drop a kiss in my hair when no one else is around. He tries to keep the lab a professional space.

He doesn’t have the same qualms in my office, though. Or his office when the door is closed. Wyatt prefers to corner me behind my desk. He’s more handsy than anything else, clearly intent on causing me pleasure instead of seeking his own. Like he gets pleasure from giving it.

I reach out to his hand dangling beside my hip and tangle our fingers together for a few seconds. Relief drops his shoulders an inch, even when I slide my hand back into my lap.

Laurel is shooting us looks. She pays so much attention to Wyatt. Pair that with the perpetually cold and snotty response to me, and I can only imagine what their working relationship was like before.

She’s infatuated with him, or at least, that’s my guess. Perhaps she’s as awkward and anal as Wyatt, and I throw her entire work routine off. I’m betting on the former option, though.

Call it a vibe. Instinct. Experience around other women. Insight from my cousin, Sophia. The number of single moms from her school who target her husband is ridiculous.

She did marry up, though. Wealthy, kind, caring, and hot? It’s the only way I ever saw my cousin getting married.

Maybe I’m biased, though. Tanner is great with Charlie and always includes him when the boys play sports or venture out for outdoorsy stuff that I’m simply not interested in. Dad isn’t either. We’re the type of people who stick close to the kitchen.

Wyatt stomps into his office, unlocking it to enter and returning a few minutes later with a tray of chocolates.

Placing it before me, he leans against the table and crosses his arms over chest. On day one, I might have thought he was being defensive, but he’s not being combative. He’s just awkward.

I take one of the squares and nibble it, eyes closed to process the flavor. It’s closer than when we started. Each batch is a step in the right direction, but there’s still a lingering bitterness that we can’t seem to get rid of.

My eyes open to Wyatt’s intense stare, but it’s not one of disappointment as it used to be when my face revealed that we still had work to do. Instead, his focus is on my mouth.

I lick my lower lip, and his nostrils flare, his gaze lifting to meet mine. The contact shoots through me.

After a few heartbeats and the slamming of something in the background, he jerks back to our surroundings, narrowing his eyes at Laurel before nodding at the partially-eaten chocolate in front of me.

“Verdict?”

“Those were the dark roast beans from Hau Giang?”

“Yes.” His hands squeeze like he wants to reach out for me.

“Have we tried their medium roast?”

Wyatt nods. “Left a greasy film on your tongue.”

“Can we mix the two? Pull back on the coconut oil.”

He blinks as he processes this. “I see where you’re going with that. Yes. We’ll do that next.”

Grabbing the tray, he stuffs it back in his office and waves me in. I sit across from him and cross my legs, knowing my skirt’s small slit will expose more of my thigh for him. He catches it immediately, leaning his palms against his desk and staring me down.

My smile makes his pale green eyes brighten, even as his pupils widen.

He slowly sits, like having me here and not being able to touch me is torture. “I have the ratios from the last two batches. Let’s compare numbers and come up with a few options for the next one.”

We look them over and play with the numbers, and I can feel Laurel’s gaze on us for most of it. That woman really needs to get a life. I meet her glare as we leave his office—which he locks behind him—and walk into the store room to pick a different oil from our options.

It doesn’t take us long, but when we exit back to the lab, Ryder is there, chatting with Laurel. She tucks her hair behind her ear as she looks up at him, and his smile is infectious. As it always is.

He’s got a small lilac colored box with a bow in his hands.

When I step out, his attention shifts to me, and Laurel can tell. She glares over her shoulder before she touches his arm. He squeezes her shoulder back before heading my way.

From what I’ve seen of his flirting, the touch is mild.

Approaching me is another story. His hand is in my hair, and he slides it back to plant a kiss on my neck, coming behind me to present me with the box in his hand. He’s the complete opposite of Wyatt at the office.

But again, he’s known to be a flirt, so I’m not sure it’s at all unnatural for him.

I take hold of the box. “What’s this for?”

“A treat. Something to tempt you into an early dinner.” His mouth finds my ear. His breath is warm, sending shivers down my spine. “Or maybe a late one.”

Ryder is edging for a night over at my place. Or having me at his place. With Charlie, it’s just not a part of my schedule to spend time with him after work.

I turn my face toward him, close enough to easily lean in for a kiss, but I peer into his bronze eyes and let out one of my smallest smiles.

A grin breaks over his face before he retreats, clapping Wyatt on the shoulder and nodding him toward the door.

Ryder winks at me. “See you later?”

I laugh, agree, and wave him off. Wyatt looks me over before he follows Ryder out of the lab.

The stony silence left in their absence has me efficiently cleaning up. Putting ingredients back, testing that they’re closed tight and stored properly, and wiping off any residue that might contaminate the rest.

I wipe down the lab table and my stool. It’s a little overboard, but my precautions make me feel better about being back at my job more fully.

Laurel stands opposite me at the table, her arms crossed tightly under her breasts. It’s her smile that’s alarming. “Ryder, huh? You didn’t peg me as one of his flavors of the month.”

She slowly drops her arms and tilts her head to the left. “I thought you had more independence. But Ryder does have his ways, doesn’t he? That little thing he does with his tongue—right—here.”

Laurel touches the base of her neck in the back.

It sends heat into my cheeks and chest because I know the exact move she’s talking about.

“It was one of his moves he used when I got here. Works on every new girl.” Her head tips back and forth, and she steps away to grab her clipboard. “Still works on me.”

Tuning my features into my usual bored look, the panic and hurt rampaging through me is half disbelief. I saw their exchange.

Unless I am just a new conquest. If so, he’ll be done with me before long. The fact that it doesn’t track will not keep me from confronting him about it.

“I had no idea the two of you were a thing at all. Thanks for being honest with me about it. I’ll have to be more careful about his advances.” I toss the cleaning wipes in the bin, putting me right back in Laurel’s vicinity.

She’s got a bland look on her face, but her eyes spark with premature victory. As much as I don’t believe they’re still sleeping together, the best lies are based on truth, and the rest rings true. I have to know how much.

“Of course. I just want to be sure he doesn’t take advantage of you, dear.” Laurel gives me a forced smile, and I return it before exiting the lab in a calm and measured way.

Even though I am fuming inside. For too many reasons.

I take the stairs at a moderate pace. It’s enough to curb the hard pumping in my chest for actual exertion instead of my emotions.

Ryder’s office door is closed, and before I can think better of it, I throw the door open and burst inside, hands planting firmly on my hips.

The other three men in the room turn to gape at me, but my heritage has gotten the better of me. Little can calm me down from this kind of perfect storm.

I glare daggers at Ryder.