Mr. Bad Intentions (Alphalicious Billionaires Boss 6)

“You’re a liar! You’re the worst liar. It isn’t even funny. Don’t stand there looking at me with your eyes all sparkly and full of laughter. That’s not going to work either.”

I seriously need to get my ass inside, out of the sun, and get some water. Jesus. Who could live down here permanently? It’s so hot that it could sizzle a person to a crispy strip of bacon within an hour. Unless you’re Rea. Aside from being angry, she doesn’t look the least bit sweaty. It’s as though she’s immune to the heat. She likes to pretend she’s immune to me too, but I can tell that’s far from the truth.

“If you answer one question for me, and you answer it with complete honesty, I swear I’ll pack up and leave. You’ll not only have your promotion, which if you ever get into work, you’ll find that it’s waiting for you, but I promise I will never, ever, bother you again. I’ll pay a crew to fix the house up, and then I’ll sell it.”

Rea’s expression grows even more guarded at my words. She thinks this is a trick, but she also knows when I’m serious, and right now, I am dead effing serious.

“Okay. Fine.” She crosses her arms and stares me down with her frosty blue gaze. Her eyes are cold enough to freeze me over, even when I’m standing under a sun that could melt an ice cube in point eight of a second. “Go ahead. Ask me your question. But be prepared to leave because I’ll answer anything. Anyfreakingthing, just as long as it gets you gone.”

“Hey, I’ve been good to you since I showed up. I got you the promotion you wanted, I gave you a little bit of extra cash, and I’m helping the environment by planting trees. I’m also currently planning on fixing up the house, which would only raise your property value.”

“Uh-huh. You go right on believing you’re a gift to the planet and me. You might not be sun stroked for real, but you’re obviously pretty deluded. You’re too far gone for me to change your mind.”

I know this is a safe bet. She’s never going to give me the answer I want—the answer to a question I’ve been asking myself for eight years. Honestly, probably the entire reason I’m here. “Why did you break up with me, really? And not the bullshit excuse you gave me back then because I know you were lying.”

“I wasn’t. My answer is still the same. Now, you should get to packing.”

“Oh no. I said you had to answer honestly, and that’s not an honest answer.”

“Whatever.” Rea spins on her heel, leaving a deep divot in the lush grass. Her lawn is so much thicker than mine. I need to work on getting some sprinklers to help my crispy yard. Although, the yard is obviously the least of my worries. “You’re never going to believe anything I say, so I suppose I’ll see you later for my thirty hundred dollars. I’ll clear a shelf in the fridge for you, and I’ll just keep collecting your money until you get tired of this game, give up, and leave all on your own.”

She stalks across the grass, her curvy hips swaying, her peach perfect bottom outlined in those ripped up skinny jeans she’s rocking. I get to admire it for all of approximately six seconds before she disappears through the back door. She slams it for good measure, which is quite risky to do with glass, but apparently, she thinks it’s worth it.

I turn back to my yard, glaring at the damn trees I have to plant. It probably wasn’t a good idea to start when it was six thousand degrees out, but I knew Rea would be in there, watching. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist coming out, just like I knew she was going to call in sick to work again today because she’s still trying to come up with a plan of attack.

I stalk off to my house, where it’s also six thousand degrees without air conditioning, but at least I do have a twenty-four pack of water waiting for me there. I open up a bottle and dump it down my throat.

Water. It clears the head, and it’s good for the skin.

It might be good for the complexion, but it sure as shit doesn’t clear up the stormy mess mucking up in my head. It feels like my brain is trying to run a marathon through swampy sludge, which is about the speed at which I’m processing things.

I gave Rea a chance to get rid of me for good. I would have kept my end of the bargain because once I give my word, that’s that, but she didn’t take it. She wouldn’t answer my question. Why? What is so terrible that she’d hold out even when she wants me gone more than anything? At least, I think she does. She says she does, and despite the fact that I think she might be more hesitant than she’s letting on, I ultimately have no reason not to believe her. I did show up out of the blue like a massive wrench in her cogs, grinding everything to a slow, annoying halt. She should seriously want that wrench gone, want to get on with her normal life.