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“Did you leave anything in there?” he growls.

“Hey! I mean, no, I didn’t. But, hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Good,” he snaps gruffly. “Now, get in the truck.”

“I will not.”

I stop in front of the passenger-side door, planting my heels and crossing my arms over my chest. He faces me, breathing heavily, a stubborn look of fury on his features that is both aggravating as hell and sexy as fuck.

“Olivia,” he says in a low, warning voice. “Get. In. The. Truck.”

“No! You’re going to get me fired from my job!”

“Exactly,” he says. “Get in, or I will put you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Actually, I think he is almost smiling as he bends down and hoists me over his shoulder. Suddenly I am up in the air, kicking my feet as he opens the passenger-side door and then dumps me—still, pretty gently—into the seat. He pulls the seatbelt out and buckles it over my hips while I sit there, seething.

“This is bullshit,” I announce when he gets into the driver’s side. “Who do you think you are? This is absolute insanity! I had a job! I need a job!”

“Not that job,” he says, and starts the engine.

My head rushes with white noise as we drive back to the station. It gives me just enough time to figure out what I’m going to say, and I am going to let him have it. I am not going to put up with some man telling me what to do. Not now, not ever! How dare he just come barging in, just when I almost have everything figured out?

How dare he!

“You coming in? Or do I need to carry you?” he asks stubbornly when we reach the station.

I have every intention of walking on my own two feet, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud. Instead, I just rush ahead of him, striding toward the station, prepared to tell all three of them that they can kiss my ass.

Chapter 13

PETE

The front door bangs open. Excited by the sound, I wander into the main room, smiling. I am just about to ask Olivia how her job interview went when she comes bursting into the space, her hairdo half undone, her hands balled up into little fists. Right behind her is Stephan with a dark look on his face and a stubborn set to his jaw.

“Okay, guys,” she announces in a yell. “We need to talk!”

Trigger comes trotting obediently out of the back room with a hose draped over his shoulder. He lays the whole thing down on the dining room table and looks at me questioningly. All I can do is shrug.

“Stephan?” I call out cautiously.

“No!” she interrupts. “Stephan doesn’t speak for me! I want to talk. And what I want to say is… You guys are not in charge of me, okay? I don’t know what kind of macho—”

Stephan walks forward with his hands up reasonably.

“What is going on here?” I ask him.

“No!” she yells, stepping in front of him.

Wow, she really is furious. It’s kind of turning me on.

“Okay, fine,” I say reasonably and turn all my attention to her. “What is going on here?”

“You guys are not my bosses, okay?” she snarls, pointing her finger at my chest. “Just because you’re all… like… official or whatever. You are not in charge of me! I don’t care what happened, you know, yesterday or whenever!”

“Did Stephan say we were?” I ask her gently, resorting to crowd control training to calm her down. “Did he say something that upset you?”

“No! He… like, he—he picked me up! He put me in the truck!”

I shake my head. I don’t understand what she’s talking about right now.

“He fucking picked me up and put me in the truck even though I said no!”

My eyebrows go up. I look at Stephan and he just shrugs. Apparently this happened?

“He’s crazy! I got the job!”

“Congratulations!” Trigger calls out.

“Stephan? You want to explain yourself?”

Finally, Olivia stops chattering long enough to let Stephan get a word in. He steps forward, clenching his molars together so tight, I can see the veins in his neck.

“I drove Olivia over to the house, told her I would wait for her,” he says through gritted teeth. “While I was there, I figured I would do a little background check.”

“I got the job! I needed that job!” Olivia wails. “You don’t understand!”

Stephan turns to her and holds his hands out, pleading. I have never seen him like this. Usually he just gets what he wants, no matter what. But what he seems to be doing is reaching out to her. Trying to convince her. Is that sympathy on his face?

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” he begins in a much calmer tone of voice. “Maybe I crossed a line, but… What I found out…”

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