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“I wouldn’t say kicked.”
“I would.”
“No feet were involved.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”
He snags my hand before I can climb the stairs.
“After you tell me why you were wearing a sad face when you came home.”
“Is this about my non-existent dog who was apparently shot?”
He leads me to the living room. “Talk before I have to find a dog to shoot.”
I gasp. “You wouldn’t.”
“No, but I would call my brothers to find out what happened.”
“Ha! A whole lot of good that would do. None of their girlfriends were around when— Shit.”
I collapse on the sofa and bury my face in my hands. Damon pries my hands away.
“What happened, Love? Who do I need to kill?”
“Why all this talk of killing? Are you some sort of secret assassin? Is that what you’re doing while you hide in your office all day?”
He laughs. “How exactly does it work? I kill people remotely? Do I have a drone?”
I snap my fingers. “Exactly. You have a drone and you’re a highly paid hitman who hides out in this small town in Colorado where no one realizes you’re actually the Angel of Death.”
He cocks a brow. “Angel of Death? You had quite the vivid imagination until my assassin name turned out to be Angel of Death.”
“I’ll work on it.”
He squeezes my hands. “I hate to ruin your fantasy but I’m not an assassin. I’m an extremely boring financial advisor.”
“Why do you do it if it’s boring?”
“I don’t think it’s boring, but I know from experience people fall asleep at parties when I explain what I do in detail.”
I blink and rub my eyes. “Huh? What did you say?”
“Smart ass,” he growls but his eyes are full of humor and he’s smiling.
“My ass has been called many things – firm, sexy – but never smart.”
His eyes heat. “I think your sexy ass is smart.”
Abort! Abort! No flirting with the boss, Love. Did you forget?
But he’s so sexy.
Boss. B – O – S – S!
I clear my throat. “I should be getting to bed. Skye will be up and at ‘em first thing in the morning.”
“First tell me what happened this evening.”
