His Daughter’s Best Friend Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
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I was back at my desk with my sandwich when Lily came back from lunch. Angie, Maureen’s temp, was still out, so the two of us were effectively alone. Lily had a small smile on her lips, and her cheeks were flushed the way they’d been after I kissed her the first time. Had she let that prick Devon kiss her? I imagined the two of them alone in the elevator, his hands on her, and my whole body turned to stone. Forget waiting for a missed phone call, I’d fire him now.

Our gazes caught, and I was glad there was glass between us. She jolted slightly when she saw me at my desk. She’d expected me to still be out the way I usually was. Then the smile dropped from her lips. She raised her eyebrows—half challenge, half question.

My finger itched to press the intercom button and call her in. I’d tell her that if she so much as passed Devon in the lobby, he’d never work in this town again. But if I took the leash off my temper long enough to do that, there was no telling what else I might do if I had Lily alone again.

A long moment stretched between us, and I had a feeling she knew exactly what I was debating. She was waiting to see which side would win out–the one that couldn’t resist her or the one that had to.

I was waiting too.

But before either side could win the tug of war, the door behind her opened and Angie came in. Lily broke eye contact to look over at her and smile. I kept my eyes on the back of Lily’s golden head and wondered how many times we’d find ourselves back in this exact situation.

And how I would continue to keep my hands off her.

20

LILY

Devon was a nice guy. He was a slightly older, more mature version of the boys I’d dated throughout high school and college. Earnest, kind, with a broad, open face that made you feel like you could trust anything he said. I used to be a sucker for that. He held doors open for me and carried my lunch tray. He told me he was from the Midwest. He thought one day he’d move back. This place wasn’t really for him. He was thirty-one, which would have seemed like a vast age difference if I hadn’t lost my virginity to a forty-year-old last night. Now it seemed too young. And he was too earnest. Every kind thing he did made me miss Con’s brusque nature. The contrast between his abrasive public self and the tenderness beneath that so few people got to see. Still, I asked Devon if he wanted to get a drink after work.

I felt guilty. I’d found the nicest guy in LA, and I was using him. It was working though. I saw how Con stopped dead when he saw us sitting together in the cafeteria. Later, in his office, his gaze had scorched mine. He was jealous. And if he was jealous, that meant he cared.

At the end of the workday, Devon came up to get me. When he came down the hall from the elevator bank and saw me, he smiled at me then back at Con, who was still at his desk. I didn’t dare turn to see the look on Con’s face as I stood up and grabbed my purse, but I saw Devon’s smile falter.

My stomach swooped pleasantly. I wished it was because of the way Devon’s golden brown eyes settled on mine appreciatively, but it was a direct result of the anger I sensed simmering in the man behind me. I didn’t understand myself anymore. The nicest man in LA was holding out his arm for mine, and I wanted to go back to the asshole who had slept with me and then re-homed me like a puppy he’d adopted then decided he didn’t have enough time for.

“Where do you want to go?” Devon asked as we waited for the elevator.

For a second, I was speechless, thinking he’d read my mind. Where did I want to go? Back to Con, but how did he know? But before I could make a fool of myself, Devon went on, “If you want to go somewhere that we can grab dinner at after, I know a good place.”

Of course that was what he meant. Disappointment and relief churned in my stomach. “I’d love dinner,” I lied.

We went to an all-American place that served burgers and malts and hot, crinkly, crispy French fries that tasted like being back in Ohio. It was a world away from the intimidating steakhouse that Con had taken me to for lunch. I liked it better. I would have loved it if it had been Con sitting across from me instead of Devon.


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