Boss Rules: A Knocked Up Romance Read online

  Boss Rules

  Jenna Gunn

  Copyright © 2020 by Jenna Gunn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction and all locations and people within are purely fictional.

  Contents

  About This Book

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. Chapter 23

  24. Chapter 24

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  27. Chapter 27

  28. Chapter 28

  29. Chapter 29

  30. Chapter 30

  31. Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peak

  About This Book

  Bringer of earth shattering O’s

  Yesterday’s one night stand.

  Today my off-limits Boss.

  It was supposed to be my dream job.

  But he happened.

  A few hours ago Bryce Archer wasn’t my boss.

  Or my anything for that matter.

  He was a one night indulgence.

  One that left my voice shredded and my body in withdrawal.

  But our workplace doesn’t allow us to mix business and pleasure. The rule book says we’re done.

  But the electricity between us says we are not.

  So my dream job in the perfect seaside town hangs in peril.

  If I become the secret lovers it could all come crashing down. I thought I finally got everything I want…

  But I want him too.

  Enough to risk it all and follow his reckless lead and break all the rules.

  It’s a dumpster fire in the making.

  One that might leave me knocked up, broken hearted, with my dreams in tatters.

  Boss Rules is a standalone steamy romance and is Book 1 in the Archer Brother’s series. No cliffhangers, no cheating in this HEA romance.

  1

  Chapter 1

  The lady at the ticket office said the train was almost full and wished me good luck. That’s never a good sign.

  I pass by dozens of faces along the narrow aisle, most of which are buried in some kind of screen. A few glance my direction with sympathetic expressions. Yeah, I’m that girl. The one who was late. The one that can’t find a seat.

  I finally see an empty place three rows from the very back. There’s a man in the aisle seat but the window seat appears to be vacant.

  “Excuse me, is that seat taken?”

  Please let it be open because I have no clue what to do—oh wow—

  The gaze that swings my way draws me up short. My breath catches somewhere around my heart.

  The man’s Caribbean turquoise eyes are as clear as fine crystal and set in the kind of perfectly rugged male face that makes you forget your name.

  Or worship his name.

  He grins, reducing me to an unblinking stare and a very inappropriate gasp. “I guess it is now.” His voice is deep, like a mysterious, sensuous tendril of smoke that reaches right out to me, curling its way into my very core.

  “Uh.” I clear my throat. The crazy beating in my chest—like a wild stampede—makes me waver. I clutch the seat-back, he watches me with humor dancing in those incredible pools of blue.

  Great.

  I’m just standing here like an idiot, swaying on my feet at the mere sound of his voice. “Okay then,” I mumble as I clutch my shoulder bag across my chest, hoping to keep my pitiful attempts at breathing hidden.

  The man nods his head of buzz-cut hair and rises to let me into the window seat. My eyes follow him up.

  And up.

  At least six and a half feet up.

  The edge of a seat presses into my back as I try to give him room, but there’s nowhere to go. We’re really close—I feel his body heat pouring out of him, unrestrained by the thin cotton of his shirt.

  I’m fully aware he’s all hard planes and long limbs, barely separated from me by his pale grey t-shirt and a pair of palm leaf board shorts.

  He smells like the ocean.

  Welcome to California.

  This ain’t Texas anymore—where men are far more likely to strut around in designer western jeans, shiny boots, and collared button-down shirts.

  I could get used to this. It’s a lot more fun seeing all that muscle and tanned skin.

  There’s barely enough room to wiggle past the giant of a man, but I manage. A surge of heat flashes up my body and sets my face on fire like a match tossed on gasoline.

  Smoke alarms might start going off any second.

  I look anywhere but at him as he settles his massive collection of hard, sculpted muscles into the seat next to me.

  Hot. Hot. Hot.

  His broad shoulder brushes me as I take my seat. “Excuse me for invading your half,” he murmurs in his panty-melting baritone.

  Breathe girl. In. Out.

  Fainting from pure lust would be the ultimate self-respect killer. But I swear, I feel like I’ve been caught in a tornado on a cloudless, sunny summer day.

  I do not fawn over men like some teenage girl—

  I’m a grown woman, for heaven’s sake.

  Must be the exhaustion—moving two thousand miles would do that to anyone.

  Fanning myself, I try for an ounce of composure.

  I feel his eyes on me as he comments, “Nice day for a train ride along the coast.”

  “Perfect out there, but in here, it’s as hot as the hinges of Hell’s gate,” I grumble, fanning myself. So this is what an egg would feel like on hot pavement on an August day.

  Watching my red-faced show, he laughs a low chuckle. “Is that a Texas drawl I hear? Ten bucks if you’re not a SoCal girl.”

  “Guess I owe you a ten.”

  “How about a beer instead?”

  Well, well. Mr. Beautiful is flirty too.

  He watches me wallow in my discomfort, which is more than a little obvious from the beads of sweat breaking out on my brow and the fact that I’m tugging at the collar of my t-shirt like I’ve got fire ants in there.

  “Easy, girl, you look like you need a cold beer now. I thought Texas was hot. You’d think California would be cool by comparison.” He fans me with the magazine in his hand.

  Embarrassed, I mumble, “Well, who woulda known.”

  Yeah, who woulda known I’d lose control of my hormones like a cowboy that dropped the reins of a startled horse.

  Out of nowhere, there’s a sudden jolt.

  Lord, is that an earthquake?

  Eeek! It happens again, and I grab his arm by accident instead of the armrest. The train lurches forward; all that jiggling was just the thing rumbling to life.

  Jerking my hand back from his sizzling skin, I wipe my palm on my thigh.

  I sigh in relief.

  Not the big one that all the Californians talk about.

  But hey—if the “big one” did hit, at least I co
uld hold on to him!

  “Jumpy much?”

  “I’m not used to trains. Or earthquakes for that matter.”

  I realize the only “big one” in proximity at the moment is the one he’s probably carrying around between his legs.

  Trying to gain my composure and dignity back, I grumble, “I’m normally not like this.” Pinning him with a glare, I insinuate that it’s his fault.

  That smile. Those eyes…

  “Glad to know I have that effect.” He flips open his magazine and folds one of his long legs across the other, taking up the whole damn row.

  “Pfft.” Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. I swear, the man’s as cocky as a rooster at dawn. I can tell already.

  The train rambles away from the station and emerges up onto a bluff, overlooking the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

  With my face glued to the window like a little kid, I gawk in delight.

  It’s more beautiful than I expected. It’s been years since I visited the beach here, but obviously, my memories were a poor snapshot. I’m really happy I bought the train ticket—my treat to celebrate a new beginning.

  The Coaster train skims along the coast in Southern California, a sort of commuter and tourist train all mish-mashed into one. It gives you a damned fine view of the beach and the little towns along the way, according to their Tripadvisor page.

  The scenery gets an “A” from me already.

  Both inside the train and outside. But I won’t say that in my review on the travel site. It’s my secret.

  Stealing glances, I check out the fine specimen of Californian male that’s pretty much taking up all my personal space, casually reading the news.

  Lord almighty.

  This man is all sun-kissed and, oh my god, is that…is that the scent of the ocean on him?

  He’s my kryptonite, and I didn’t even know I had kryptonite.

  He definitely smells like the ocean and some kind of clean, masculine soap, like cedar or something yummy.

  Fighting the urge to draw in a deep breath, I jam my face into my bag, looking for anything to occupy myself with. When I come up empty-handed, I turn back to the landscape, praying I don’t melt into a puddle of lust right here on this pleather train seat.

  When we round a big corner, whizzing along, I catch sight of beautiful palms, dancing sunlight, and crashing waves. Gasping a little, I can’t hide the wonder in my voice, “Oh! That’s incredible.”

  I feel a shift of weight next to me, a crumple of paper. Then he’s leaning into me as he also checks out the view. I can feel his chest pressed against my shoulder as he angles for a view.

  “Pretty spot. I work close to that place. I take it you’ve never taken a ride on The Coaster before?”

  “Nope, I just got to town. But this ride’s got my vote so far, that’s for sure.”

  He settles back into his seat, and when I dare look his way again, his hand is extended. I stare at it for a second before I gather the nerve to put my hand in his, knowing it’s a damned slippery slope. Touch him, and I might just orgasm on the spot.

  “Bryce Archer,” he says as he accepts my palm. “Welcome to California, officially.” His cocky, sexy as sin grin melts my palm against his like cheese melts on toast.

  “I’m Ray,” I say in return. With a smile, I add, “I think I might like this place.”

  When I draw my hand back, I jam it under my leg. Heat throbs and sizzles up my arm.

  That warm, rugged hand of his will be burned into my mind for a long, long time.

  “Where are you heading, Ray?”

  “San Diego and back.”

  “Just out for a ride?”

  The way he says ride…it’s drawn out like there’s way more meaning behind it than a simple train trip.

  Yeah, I’d like to take him for a ride—a breathless, name-screaming, all-night ride.

  “Just out to enjoy the scenery,” I say with a grin, feeling a little daring. What’s it hurt to flirt with him?

  Flashing his killer baby blues at me, he asks, “Like what you see?”

  My tongue dances across my aching lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” There’s no denying it. I’ve got a thing for him, already.

  Try as I might, I can’t figure out why I’d feel so fired up for a perfect stranger who obviously knows he’s the stuff of fantasies.

  Must be the salt air.

  I’m not a fall on your face for a hottie kind of girl. But this one is the kind of man who wrecks your ideals. The kind that makes you leave the bar with the bad boy you know will leave your legs bowed and dignity in tatters.

  His blue eyes dance. “What brings a Texas girl to California?”

  “I’m starting a new job soon.” I don’t tell him I haven’t gotten the job yet, but I’m channeling my future self. Because I am getting that job.

  “Well, congratulations, then.”

  “Thanks, it’s been a dream of mine for a long time to live and work here.”

  His eyes soften, a kind of fondness warming them. “I can’t imagine it any other way. This place is all I’ve ever known.”

  “Your family is here then?”

  He chuckles as he says, “Oh yeah, all of them. Sometimes, it’s a bit much. But honestly, I really can’t picture it any other way.”

  “How about you, cowgirl? Your family back in Texas?”

  A spear of sadness lances through my heart. Who knows where Mom is. She sounded so pleased with herself when she called last year. I barely had the stomach to listen to her talk about her latest man. Visions of her with her latest alcohol-pickled loser left me feeling queasy. Tammy was always a sucker for the life of the party, and pretty much anyone who’d give her a place to live for who knows what in exchange.

  Knowing my face shows more than I’d like, I share enough to satisfy the question. “I’m pretty much a one-woman show. Not too many of my kind around still.”

  “Ah. Well, I’m sure you’ll find a nice group of friends of some sort in California. The people here are pretty nice. Just stay away from L.A.,” he says with a laugh.

  “I’m not much of the Hollywood type. I’ve never been into anything fancy, really. Guess that’s what happens when you grow up poor as the dirt on a country road.”

  He scrunches his face as if the thought of Los Angeles has a sour flavor. “It’s not my thing either. Too fancy there for my taste.”

  “Well, I guess we have that in common,” I comment. “I’ll take work boots over heels any day.”

  Grinning, he glances down at my feet. “And flip-flops?”

  Wiggling my freshly painted toes, I say in a hushed tone, “Shhh…don’t tell anyone, but I’d rather be barefoot.”

  His blue eyes sparkle with a laugh. “Those toes are too pretty to be hidden in boots. I think California is supposed to be your home.”

  He glances down at my toes again, then slides his gaze up my bare legs. Goosebumps pop up in the wake of his heated appraisal.

  Bryce Archer’s I-wanna-fuck stare lands on me, and his eyes burn me right down to the ground.

  That man has got some kind of loaded-weapon gaze, let me tell you. One of those looks from him, and I’m ready to fall on my back with my legs spread open.

  His eyes lock on my lips. “I get off soon.”

  Umph. Is this conversation really happening?

  Playing. With. Fire.

  “I hope to as well,” falls off my suddenly daring tongue. Two can play at this game.

  A thousand-watt smile flashes on his beautiful sin-worthy mouth. “You’re something else, Texas.”

  Raising a brow, I reply, “I guess that’s a compliment.”

  “It is. But I’ve got to get off this train. I have to go to a meeting I can’t miss. Got a pen?”

  What?

  My brain tries to focus on what he said, but all I can do is stare at his totally kissable lips. “A pen, um…yeah,” My fingers are nearly useless as I try to get a pen out of my bag.

  He grabs what I realize is
a Sharpie from me as the train starts to slow. Before I know what he’s doing, his strong fingers are wrapped around my wrist, and he extends my arm across his lap. The Sharpie marker is cold when it meets my flesh. In big block numbers, he scrawls a phone number across the pale skin of my forearm, marking me with his digits.

  With the sexiest damn chuckle, he winks. “I’ll be looking forward to you buying me that beer. I’m busy till five…”

  I’m owl-eyed and unable to move.

  His mouth opens onto the palm of my hand before I can react. His teeth gently nip me, and his tongue dances a sensual circle across the flesh on the inside of my hand.

  Yoweeee!

  Oh…my god.

  Did he just lick my hand?

  He just licked me.

  Tingles run over my whole body, and I feel like I might just come on the spot.

  His voice is all gravel and seduction when he lets go of me, “I can show you a proper welcome to California, Ray.”

  The laugh that comes of me is pure insanity and lust. As the sound dances in the air around us, I admit, “I bet you can.”

  Then he’s up, not even glancing back as he moves casually down the aisle to the exit.

  I slump back into my seat with a sigh.

  A big fucking cheesy grin fills my face as I look down at his phone number written in permanent marker on my arm.

  2

  Chapter 2