My Favorite Boss Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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Except, her foot caught on something, and I watched as she stumbled, falling to the grass with a hard exhale of air. I sped up, dropping to my knee next to her. I automatically reached for the ankle she was holding. “Are you all right?”

I heard a small gasp that was more than familiar.

I looked up, my gaze drifting past the full breasts, pouty lips, and perfectly fanned-out freckles to the dark eyes so well-known to me already.

“Myers?”

MAGNOLIA

I had to get out this morning. I was restless and edgy. I hadn’t gone for one of my walks in days. I was too tired when I got home at night. I looked out at the bright sunshine, deciding to go on a power walk now. I got dressed, adding the flannel jacket that used to be my dad’s. It was long and warm, far too big most of the time, but I had removed the lining and it was great when I got chilly. With the heavy tree line in places in the park, I might need it.

But as I walked, I got too warm, and I tied it around my waist. It kept slipping, making me stop, readjust, and then keep going. I had been to the other side of the park, had a coffee while sitting in the sun, and was heading home now. I wasn’t going as fast since my legs were tired. I hit a rockier part of the path, slipping on some loose gravel and going down hard on the grass.

I was shocked when a man dropped beside me, holding my foot in his hand and asking me if I was all right.

Two things hit me at once. I knew that voice. And that heady, woodsy scent. I gasped, meeting the sparkling blue eyes of my boss.

“Myers?” he asked.

Then he did something out of character for him. He grinned. Really grinned, making him more handsome and sexier than ever.

“I should have known,” he said, shaking his head. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Power walking.”

He held up a sleeve of the shirt tied around my waist. “Trying to kill yourself tripping over this is more like it.”

He leaned closer. “What on earth are you wearing? Is this…flannel?”

“Hey, it’s Saturday. I can dress however I want.”

He studied me, his brilliant eyes glittering in the light. “So, Magnolia Myers, have I uncovered one of your secret weekend fetishes?”

“What?” I asked crossly.

“Rolling lumberjacks for their clothing.”

I pushed on his shoulder. “Go away.”

With another chuckle, he grasped my waist, hauling me to my feet. “Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk. What are you doing in my park anyway?”

That one single eyebrow rose, meant to quiet me. But it didn’t work outside the office.

“Let me go.”

“You own the park, Myers?”

“You know what I mean. Why are you here?”

“I was running. Like I do every weekend.”

I frowned. “I power walk every weekend.”

“Cruising for lumberjacks to attack?”

I sniffed at his attempted humor. “Please go away now. Continue your run. In fact, run as fast as you can away from me. It isn’t Monday, so I shouldn’t have to see you today.”

“It’s a public park.”

I huffed out an exasperated noise. Why wasn’t he leaving?

I widened my eyes, looking over his shoulder. “Is that your mother?”

“What?”

He turned fast, letting go of my arm. I attempted to move away, crying out when my ankle protested.

He gripped my arm again. “Funny.”

“The look on your face was.”

“Your ankle is hurt.”

“I twisted it. It’ll be fine. Let me go, and I’ll head home.”

“Where is home?”

I indicated the houses near the edge of the park. “Over there, three streets back.” I shook off his hold. “See you on Monday.”

He shook his head. “Not until I see you walk.”

I rolled my eyes, not holding back. It was Saturday after all, and I was on my own time.

I pushed him away, took in a deep breath, and walked. I held in the groan of pain I felt as I put weight on the ankle, then turned to him. “See? Fine. Now, off you go.” I waved at him in dismissal. “Bye-bye.”

Taking another deep breath, I began the long, slow process of heading home. Maybe I could find a stick to help. I bit my lip to stifle the little whimper just as I was lifted into a set of strong, firm arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he snapped. “You can barely walk.”

I pushed on his chest. It was akin to pushing on cement. “Put me down.”

“Shut up, Myers.”

“You can’t tell me to shut up.”

“I think I just did.”

“I’m too heavy for you to carry.”

He leaned his head back, laughing. “Whatever. Stop squirming and tell me where to go.”

“I’ll happily tell you where to go,” I responded.

Again, he chuckled. “Be nice, or I’ll drop you in the pond,” he threatened, holding me over the rail as we crossed a small footbridge.


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