Layer by Layer (Riggings Brothers 1)

I barely slept last night. I don’t know if it’s because, after two nights of sleeping next to him, my body already notices his absence or the fact that I couldn’t seem to turn my mind off worrying about today. Hence the reason I’m here an hour early. I stopped and picked up some pastries that I know all the guys will enjoy, and instead of setting them up in the break room, I place them on the counter by my desk, along with a small stack of plates and napkins. I want to see their faces when they enjoy the flaky, buttery sweetness.

The elevator dings and my head lifts to see who it is. Royce, dressed in his suit and tie, comes around the corner. His outfit is a definite contrast to the man I spent the weekend with. He’s staring at his phone, but when his eyes lift, and he spots me, a slow smile crosses his face, and he slides his phone into his pocket.

“I fucking missed you,” he says, not stopping until he’s behind my desk, sliding his hand behind my neck and bending to press his lips to mine.

I expect it to be a quick peck on the lips, but he demands more as his tongue surges past my lips to battle with mine. “R-Royce,” I murmur, pulling away.

“I wasn’t done, baby,” he says, and kisses me again.

“Should I call HR?” a deep voice filled with humor says from behind us.

“You should go away,” Royce says, grinning down at me. He stands to his full height and turns, giving us a clear view of Conrad.

“Morning, lovebirds. Are these fair game?” he asks, pointing to the pastries.

“Y-Yes.” I clear my throat and sit up straighter in my chair. “They’re for everyone.”

“I like this one, big brother.” Conrad winks, helps himself to a pastry, and takes a huge bite.

Royce’s hand is still behind my neck, and his thumb is gently caressing the sensitive spot behind my right ear. The elevator dings, and this time, it’s Owen, Marshall, and Grant stepping off at the same time.

“Wow,” Grant says. “Looks like we missed our invite to the party.”

Conrad points at me and holds up his half-eaten pastry. “So good,” he mumbles as he takes another bite.

“Thanks, sis,” Marshall says, digging in.

I swallow hard at the nickname, sis, the same one that Owen used Friday night. These men have quickly accepted me as a part of their lives, and being around their family brings tears to my eyes. It’s something I’ve missed terribly since my parents have been gone.

“You good?” Owen asks. He’s the most observant man I’ve ever met.

I nod. “There’s a copy of this week’s schedule on each of your desks.” I need to get into work mode. I can’t forget that I’m not a member of the Riggins family.

“Thanks, babe.” Royce places a kiss to the top of my head, grabs a pastry, and strolls to his office.

Grant looks at Royce retreating back and then turns his gaze on me. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Sawyer, and I don’t care. You’re bringing our brother back to life. Keep that shit up,” he says, holding his hand up for a high-five.

I can’t help but laugh as I slap my hand against his. “I’m just me, Grant.”

“Well, ‘just you’ are doing great things for him.”

“He’s right,” Owen agrees.

“And these.” Marshall holds up his second pastry. “These do great things,” he says, taking a huge bite, “for me.”

“Eat up. If you leave them here, I’ll eat them, and my ass doesn’t need all that.” I point to the box and make a circling motion.

“Sawyer!” Royce snaps. My head whips to look at the doorway of his office. “I don’t want to hear that shit come out of your mouth. Ever.”

“I can feel my ass expanding just looking at them,” I say in reply.

He stalks toward me. He doesn’t stop until he’s bending over me, bracing his hands on the arms of my chair. “You’re perfect.” He kisses the corner of my mouth and stands to his full height. “Don’t you all have something better to do than harass Sawyer?”

“Your girl brought us breakfast.” Conrad smirks.

Royce looks down at me. “See what you started. You’re never going to get rid of them.”

“They’re not so bad.”

He shakes his head, a smile tilting his lips. “I got shit to do.” His hand reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Lunch today?” he asks.

“You have a lunch meeting,” I remind him, and he curses under his breath.

“Go, get to work. That is why we’re here.”

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Don’t be bothering her all damn day.” He makes a point to look at each of his brothers before walking away and disappearing into his office.

“So bossy,” Marshall mutters, reaching for his third pastry.

I smile as each of them, pastries in hand, head to their offices. I should have known there was no need to worry. These Riggins men are one of a kind.