Boss Unavowed: A Love On the Rocks Romance (The Boss Series Book 2)

  Boss Unavowed

  A Love On the Rocks Romance

  Nicole R. Locker

  ©July 2017

  Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author at www.nicolerlocker.com/subscribe.

  All rights are reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Nicole R. Locker

  Interior Design by Nicole R. Locker

  Cover Design by Nicole R. Locker

  Edited by Swati Hegde

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY ONE

  TWENTY TWO

  TWENTY THREE

  TWENTY FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Boss Unwavering – Sneak Peek

  ONE

  TWO

  ONE

  A haunted moan could be heard from across the hallway as Farren held and rocked little Harley for his routine two o’clock a.m. feeding. The sound yanked her out of a sleep-deprived haze, and wild panic pierced through her chest as she sprang from the gliding chair, placed Harley in his crib, face-down in case he spit up his just-eaten food, and rushed into the bedroom she shared with the father of her child.

  Rogan lay paralyzed in his bed, a nightmare of his past consuming his mind, holding his consciousness hostage. He was unable to wake, unable to escape the horrors that replayed through his memory, forcing him to relive those fateful moments that had changed him forever.

  Sweat drenched the pillow and sheets beneath him, and when Farren reached his side, she threw the blanket from atop his body and cupped the sides of his face.

  “Shhhh, shhh, shhh,” she said, trying to soothe him, and his eyes flew open as a violent intake of air filled his lungs.

  He shuddered beneath her fingers before her face came into focus. Then he took in a cleansing breath. His hands reached up to grab her wrists as she continued to hold on to him, brushing her thumbs against his jaw in small, soothing strokes. She could feel his heart racing in his chest, as her body leaned over his from where she knelt beside him in their bed.

  “Farren,” he breathed, moving to sit up.

  “It’s okay, everything is okay,” she assured him, but the muffled cries of the baby came drifting into the room from across the hall, amplified by the baby monitor lying on the nightstand a few feet away from her.

  She hadn’t finished feeding Harley, and she’d laid him down without burping him, too. She knew she’d have to get back to him quickly, but concern was etched in her forehead with her loyalty torn between the two people she loved the most in the world, who both needed her at the moment.

  “You were gone,” Rogan acknowledged. It was the one thing that guaranteed the reappearance of the terrors that claimed him in the night.

  It killed her, seeing him so vulnerable and broken. He was such a strong, powerful, brilliant man. He was unshakable, intimidating, even, so to know that demons of his past were enough to bring him to his knees made her feel helpless.

  He needed her.

  “I’m right here,” she reassured him. “I was just a few feet away feeding Harley.”

  Even through the dark of the night, she could just make out the steel in his expression as his face hardened, and he forced away the vulnerability, regaining his control. This was the Rogan Rayner she was used to, the one who feared nothing.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll go check on Harley,” he offered, shifting his legs over the side of the bed to press his bare feet to the cool hardwood floor.

  She reached for his arm to stop him, pulling him back to her. “It’s okay. I was just finishing up feeding him. I’ll go.”

  He turned back to her, smoothing his fingers down her long, brown hair she had pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of tiny baby fingers. He softly kissed the tip of her nose. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his hard chest, still standing on her knees on the bed beside him.

  Then she let go and turned to go back across the hall to soothe another tortured soul, though this one was much easier to appease. A little milk, a gentle sway, and a soft hum of her favorite lullaby were enough to satisfy the smaller of her two men.

  If only the other were so easy.

  TWO

  “I can’t believe you did that!” Farren cried, her body rocking with laughter as Rita went on about how she had embarrassed her thirteen-year-old son the night before after finding a dirty magazine under his bed.

  “Hon, you just wait. When Harley hits the terrible teens, you’ll be wishing for the sleepless nights you have now, instead of the ones you’ll have then. It’s a whole different ball game,” Rita said, imparting her Southern-accented wisdom to a horrified Farren as the women hovered over the coffee pot in the employee lounge.

  Farren sighed, rubbing the area of dark circles beneath her eyes. “Please tell me I’ll have a few years in between there where I actually get some sleep. Would you believe I actually dozed off yesterday when I was supposed to be going over the program we’re sending off to Kansas tomorrow? I didn’t realize it until I fell halfway out of my chair, and then I hit my elbow on the edge of the desk trying to catch myself. I have the battle wounds to prove it.”

  She pulled her sleeve up to show the bruise forming just below her left elbow, and it was Rita’s turn to laugh until she cried.

  About that time, Edith Underwood, the new head of marketing, breezed into the lounge holding an empty coffee cup in one hand and a tablet in the other. Her pencil skirt was extra tight that day, and her form-fitting, button-down top was showing a rather excessive amount of cleavage.

  “What’s so funny?” Edith asked, injecting herself into their conversation as she eyed Farren and Rita. Then she reached between them to grab the coffee pot.

  The two women moved to give her room. Farren had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, and thankfully, Rita answered so she didn’t have to.

  “Oh, you know, just talking about our kids. You got any kids, Edith?” Rita knew she didn’t, but she knew the question would get under Edith’s skin.

  Edith’s upper lip smirked up in disgust, and her blond waves swayed around her as she shook her head. “Uh, no.”

  She set her tablet on the counter before grabbing the handle of the pot of coffee, pouring herself a generous cup, and then looked over to Farren.

  “Farren, darling, I can recommend a cream that would do wonders for your… eyes. Let me know if you’re interested,” she said, patting Farren on the top of her shoulder. Then she shifted back to the counter where she poured creamer and sweetener into her cup and stirred.

&nbs
p; “Thanks, Edith, but I think I’ll pass,” Farren grumbled, beyond irritated at the implied insult.

  She pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm the growing anger, and as she did, the scent of Rogan’s cologne touched her senses before he appeared in the doorway of the lounge. She looked toward the door to see him come in, and all the prior irritation was forgotten in an instant as his eyes locked on hers.

  “Ladies,” he said in his deep voice to greet everyone, but his vibrant, blue eyes remained on her through his black-rimmed glasses, with the slightest hint of a smile as one corner of his mouth twitched up ever-so-slightly.

  “Morning, boss,” Rita said, her Southern accent dragging the last word out into two syllables as she strode out of the room to get to work.

  “Well, good morning, Rogan,” Edith said, and her voice was breathier than it had been just a few moments earlier.

  He nodded, looking her way, and Farren could feel the irritation come roaring back with full force as she watched his eyes go to Edith’s cleavage for a split second before shifting them back up to her face.

  His attention turned back to Farren, and she watched his eyes soften the slightest bit. He always tried to keep things professional between them when other employees were around. Even though most of the staff knew about their relationship, they still had to leave their personal life outside of the office as much as they could for the sake of the business.

  Edith walked over to Rogan and her hand reached out to touch his elbow.

  “Oh, Rogan, don’t forget I wanted to meet with you sometime today to go over my marketing plans for the upcoming quarter, and to give you more details about my plans for Chicago,” she said, still grasping his arm.

  He nodded, acknowledging her reminder. “I should have some time right after lunch. Bring your reports from last quarter’s analysis so we can start there.”

  A wide smile spread across her face and she strolled out of the lounge, coffee and tablet in hand.

  As soon as Edith was gone, Farren found herself feeling a malignant discomfort begin to spread through her. There was just something about that woman that set Farren’s teeth on edge. It didn’t help that she really made her feel inferior, like Edith had it all figured out and Farren was just a child with a lot to learn.

  Now alone, Rogan walked to Farren and stood in front of her, squeezing the sides of her upper arms that she held tight against her with forearms wrapped around her stomach.

  “Farren? Everything okay?” he asked, his concern showing in the crinkles between his brows.

  She looked up at him, gave a tentative smile and nod, and released her hold as she loosened up beneath his touch.

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Just tired,” she admitted.

  She could see the look in his eyes, the one that said he felt to blame for her lack of sleep. She sighed and reached up to take his face in her hands, grazing her thumb across the barely visible scar below his bottom lip to go with the more prominent one in the middle of his right eyebrow.

  “Don’t do that,” she murmured.

  “Do what?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close. The corners of his eyes crinkled in the way she loved so much.

  “Blame yourself. I don’t blame you,” she told him, not for the first time.

  He simply shook his head and pulled away. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before turning toward the lounge door. “I’ve got work to do,” he called over his shoulder. “Talk to you later.”

  Farren hunched over the counter and rubbed her weary face. Yes, they all had work to do, she thought, but somehow a seed of doubt was planted inside her. She had the unsettling sense that Rogan was drifting apart from her, and if that was the case, God help her, she didn’t know what to do.

  THREE

  At a quarter to six that evening, Farren creaked the door open that led to Rogan’s office right next door to hers. It had been a long but productive day, which she was thankful for. Staying busy kept her not only awake but also kept her mind preoccupied.

  “Hey, I’m about done for the day, are you- oh,” she cut herself off when she realized Rogan wasn’t alone in his office. “Sorry, Edith, I didn’t know you were still here.”

  Edith grinned. She was leaned over Rogan’s desk where she had been pointing to something on one of his computer screens. The angle only accentuated the cleavage spilling out of her shirt. “Yes, Rogan and I were just going over some things for our trip to New York next week. Did you need something?”

  Farren did everything she could to not react to that virtual slap in the face. She looked to Rogan, hoping he would say something, but he just sat watching with one eyebrow raised as the tension built between the two women.

  Ignoring Edith’s question, Farren said to Rogan, “I was just seeing if you were about ready to leave. I need to go pick up Harley from Gramma’s.”

  And what the hell did she mean, their trip to New York next week? Farren thought, but kept to herself. Rogan hadn’t mentioned anything about a trip, and that little seed of doubt began to grow inside her.

  He shook his head. “I’ve still got a few things I need to wrap up here. I’ll see you later,” he told her.

  She wanted to kiss him goodbye, but with Edith there, she felt restricted, even though she would have loved to give Edith a good show and send her a message – he’s mine.

  Instead, she nodded and waved with her fingers. “Okay, see you later.”

  She closed the door behind her, grabbed her things and set off to Gramma’s apartment, the place she used to call home.

  *

  When Farren left, Rogan found himself wishing he’d been able to leave with her. He could see the anxious worry and exhaustion in her eyes, and he knew he was mostly to blame for it.

  He fucking hated it, and he knew he had to get a grip on the nightmares. It was one thing to have them when he had lived there alone, but ever since he’d moved Farren in before the baby had come, he had her to consider now, too.

  It was a novel feeling even wanting to take care of a woman, giving a shit about a future together, but fuck if he didn’t need her like his next breath.

  The need to take care of her and his child, to shield them from harm and provide for them, was constantly at the forefront of his mind. The problem was, how did he protect her from himself?

  “I thought we agreed that you could handle the New York meeting solo,” he snapped at Edith, his patience with her wearing thin.

  She shook her head. “No, I spoke with Donaghue just before I came in here and he’s adamant he wants you there. Between you and me, I think he prefers to deal with a man, but with the money this account would bring in, I don’t mind stroking his ego a little bit and giving him what he wants until we have his business.”

  She was still bent over the desk as she spoke, looking over the reports she’d emailed to Rogan before their meeting, which had conveniently gotten pushed back due to an impromptu call with another client she was trying to reel in.

  It was convenient for Edith, but not for Rogan. He’d been struggling to maintain his focus even before Farren had walked in, and now it was even worse.

  He couldn’t argue with Edith’s logic, though. He’d run into Donaghue before and had tried to push Dallas Evans, his former Marketing Director, among other things, to pursue that lead. Evans hadn’t made it happen. Edith had been here for six months and had pulled in not only Donaghue but several other high profile accounts.

  “I’ll look at my schedule and see if I can pull it off. I’m not making any promises.”

  *

  When Rogan got home, Farren was just putting Harley down in his crib. He watched from the doorway as she gently laid him on his back and watched him with wonder as Harley’s little mouth hung open and lax with slumber. The look of admiration Rogan saw in Farren’s eyes led him to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, pressing his chest against her back.

  She melted into him as her body soaked in his warmth,
and she leaned her head to the side, allowing him access to rest his chin in the crook of her neck, sending chills radiating out in every direction throughout her body.

  She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her tightly around her waist.

  “You made it home. I wasn’t sure how late you’d be,” she said, looking questioningly into his eyes.

  He kissed her deeply, and he could feel her body responding beneath his touch. Could this finally be the night?

  *

  Farren lay down in bed, taking in the coolness of the sheets beneath her as she slid in beneath the comforter. She could feel the tension leaving her tired muscles as she snuggled in. She sighed, letting the relaxing feel of the bed take over her, closing her eyes and nuzzling into her pillow.

  When she heard Rogan enter the room, heard the soft rustling as he slowly removed his shirt, then his pants, a pang of fear and anxious worry shot through her. She felt like they had been drifting apart, and while part of her was angry and jealous from the day’s earlier events with Edith, another part of her craved his nearness and affection like a raging hunger.

  With the contrasting emotions warring inside her, she made no move to speak to him or even turn to look his way. She felt the blankets pull down, and the bed dipped with his weight as he climbed in bed beside her wearing only a pair of boxer briefs.

  He moved in close to her and leaned in to press his large hand to her shoulder giving her a gentle pull as though asking a silent request for her to turn to him.

  “You’re not asleep, are you?” he asked.

  She rolled onto her back so she could face him.

  “Not yet,” she replied in a meek voice.

  Her face searched his in the dark, lit only by the soft rays of moon glow. He traced his hand down her arm, massaging her skin, and it felt so good having his hands on her like that. She soaked in the warmth of his touch. She didn't want him to stop, but her emotions were too raw, and she was just too exhausted.