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Layer by Layer (Riggings Brothers 1)

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“Good. We had to do some staffing changes, but we’re on the right track.”

Sam nods. “We all knew that Tony was limited after the first few months. We just hoped we were wrong.”

“Yeah, Scott’s taking over for him, and Grant feels good about it,” I reply.

“No work talk,” Jase grumbles.

“Like you don’t ever talk shop,” Sam sasses.

“Babe, you’ve been cooped up in this house for weeks. You have company, and all you want to talk about is work?”

Sam grins mischievously. “Fine.” She turns to look at Sawyer. “How are you doing with all that hotness around you every day?” she asks, smirking.

“Nope. Not going there, Samantha.” Jase stands and starts clearing the table. “I’m not going to listen to you talk about the Riggins brothers like pieces of meat.”

“Hello.” I wave my hand in the air. “Riggins brother sitting right here.”

“Don’t you start too.” Sam gives me a stern look. It’s one I’ve seen on her many times over the years as my assistant. Usually, it’s when I’m being an ass. This time I have Jase to thank. We’re friends and men, so by proximity or the process of elimination, I’m grouped in with him.

“Just saying.” I smirk at her, knowing that it will piss her off.

“Sawyer, grab your wine. We’re on the move.” I watch as Sam stands, as does Sawyer. I notice she stays back, making sure Sam doesn’t need help before she follows along behind her. I also notice her ass in those jeans. Damn. I thought those skirts she wears at the office were sexy. The leggings she was wearing on the flight were hot as fuck. However, there is nothing comparable to Sawyer Gibson in a pair of tight-fitting jeans.

“Here.” Jase tosses me a napkin.

“What’s that for?”

“The drool. Right there.” He taps the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck off.” I toss the napkin back at him. “You knew she would be here.”

“Yep.” He grins, clearly proud of himself.

“And Sam?”

“Oh, Sam invited her.”

“I get that, Einstein. Sam didn’t invite me over for dinner, did she?”

“Nope.” Another grin. This one makes his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“Dick move, Andrews.”

“Nah, I had to see it. Between Sam singing her praises and the intel I got from your brothers this week, I had to see it for myself.”

“See what?” I pretend that I have no clue what he’s talking about. We both know that I’m lying.

“Avoidance. Nice.” He nods.

“There is nothing to avoid. She’s my new assistant because you knocked up my old one.” I raise my eyebrows, daring him to argue. We both know he can’t.

“Damn right, I did. That’s my future wife you’re talking about.”

“Are you done? Don’t you have dishes to do?”

“Don’t go changing the subject on me, Riggins. What gives?” He crosses his arms over his chest. He might be retired from football, but he’s still in game day shape.

“It looks bad on the company.”

“You’re full of shit.” He studies me for several long minutes, and I try not to squirm. “Just admit it. You like her.”

“Sure, she’s nice enough.” And yes, I’ve imagined myself between her thighs.

“What’s it going to take to bring you back to the land of the living? Not all women are like Je—” he starts, but I stop him.

“Don’t even say her name.”

“Come on, and it’s been what? Four years?”

“We are not talking about this. I should get going.”

He coughs into his elbow, and I can easily make out the word pussy. He’s quick to judge, but he’s never walked a mile in my shoes. Having your wife cheat on you in your bed with another woman, it fucks with your head. Especially since they’re now married and parents to a little girl they adopted. I try not to think about her. Instead, I block out anything that has to do with relationships and go on my merry way. I lived it, it’s over, and I’ve moved on. I’m not the same man I was back then. Her betrayal changed me.

“You and I both know you’re not going anywhere but to the living room to see your girl.”

“She’s not mine.”

“No? Cool. I’ll fix her up with one of the guys from the team. Josh needs to find a good woman and settle down.”

“You’re not fucking fixing her up with Josh,” I say through gritted teeth.

“That’s what I thought. Come on, lover boy.” He tosses the dishtowel on the counter and makes his way toward the living room. I follow along behind him, just like he knew that I would. I should leave. I’m sure this is awkward for her, especially after the fit I through earlier this week about her meeting Conrad and Marshall at the club. This is the same scenario, but this time it’s me, and even though I know I should leave, I don’t. I can’t. Something inside me wants to soak up as much of her time and attention as I can.



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