“Spill it,” Conrad adds.
As the youngest two brothers of the clan, they’re the most outgoing as well. “Sam and I are together,” I say with a shrug, taking a drink of my beer.
“Whoa whoa whoa, you said that you were on a date, not that the two of you were together.” Royce glares at me.
“She’s mine.”
“Damn.” Grant whistles. “Pulling out the big guns, Andrews.”
Grant’s the middle brother, just four years younger than Royce and me. He and Owen, who is two years younger, hung around us the most. However, if we were here, hanging out at the lake, all five of them were around, and their parents too. Stanley and Lena Riggins built an oasis that they knew would always bring their sons home. To this day, we all still get together to hang out on the lake Stanley built when the boys were little.
“Just telling it like it is,” I reply.
“Does she know that?” Owen asks.
My eyes seek her out to find her watching me. I smile at her, and she gives me a small wave before turning back to the tray of cookies in her hands. “Yeah, she knows.”
“Son of a bitch,” Royce mutters.
“Better watch it there, big guy. He looks pissed,” Conrad says with no real warning in his tone. “Although, I think you can take him,” he tells me.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, brat.” Royce shakes his head.
“Hey, the man has been laid out by men double your size for the entirety of his career. And he’s built like a tank.”
“Hey, my men kept me guarded,” I tell him, defending my offensive linemen.
“Still, I think you’ve got this one,” Marshall agrees.
“Enough,” Royce snaps. “If you cause me to lose my assistant, I’ll be kicking your ass.”
I smirk. “If you think you can, not that we’re ever going to have to find out. She and I are together.”
“Yo, Samantha!” Conrad calls out. I watch as my girl turns her head. When she sees Conrad motioning her over, uncertainty crosses her expression. “We need you for a minute,” he calls out as she starts this way.
My heart stutters in my chest as she grows near. Once she’s within reaching distance, I step away from the wall and wrap my arms around her. “Missed you,” I whisper in her ear. Her face turns a beautiful shade of light pink, and I can’t help but wonder if her entire body is flushed as well.
“We should’ve placed bets,” Marshall mutters under his breath.
“And give Andrews our money? No thanks,” Owen chimes in.
“Sam,” Royce whines. “Please tell me it’s not true.” His voice is pleading.
“What’s not true?” she asks him.
“You and this guy?” He points to me.
“I thought he was your best friend.”
“He is.”
She glances over at me where I stand with my arm still wrapped around her waist. I give her a subtle nod. “He is a good kisser,” she says. The chaos of four laughing Riggins brothers takes over the growling of one. I squeeze her hip, hoping to convey how happy her reply made me.
“You.” Royce points his finger at me. “If you run her off, we’re going to have words, Andrews.”
“No one is going to run me off. I love my job, and I’m good at it.” My Sam gives Royce a pointed look. If she’s looking for denial, she’s not going to get it. Not from Royce, or the other four brothers. She provides administrative support to all of them, so they’re not going to say a word. They’ve stated more times than I can count how good she is at her job, how she keeps them all in line and on track. She spends most of her time working for Royce, but the others sing her praises as well.
Surprising me, she turns her back to the Riggins brothers and gives me all her attention. “I’m going to go finish helping Lena. Save me a seat at the table.” She stands on her tiptoes, presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, and saunters off.
“I’m going to marry her.” I don’t care who hears my declaration. I won’t stop fighting until I win her heart.
Chapter 4
Samantha
I’m walking on cloud nine. This weekend was nothing short of magical. For every time that Jase would ask me out, a new fantasy of what that would look like would appear in my head. Fantasy has nothing on reality. He’s sweet and thoughtful and attentive—all things I never imagined him to be. In fact, most of my fantasies ended up with us in his bed, or against the wall, in the shower, all sans clothes.
“Morning, Samantha,” Owen says as he walks past my desk. “Andrews treating you right?” he inquires.
“Yes.” I give him the blinding smile that I can’t seem to wipe off my face.
He nods. “You let me know if that changes,” he says, moving on down the hall to his office. That’s Owen for you. He’s the quiet, stoic one. But I have no doubt that if Jase were to treat me wrong, and Owen found out about it, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch or two if necessary. It’s the quiet ones you have to worry about.
Grant, Marshall, and Conrad all arrive for the day while I’m pulling voice mails off my phone. I’ve barely got the receiver back in the cradle when Royce appears before me. “Sam,” he greets me.
“Mr. Riggins.” I give him a big cheesy smile, and the corner of his lips twitch. “What can I do for you this morning?”
“The punch list for the Idaho location was supposed to be completed yesterday. Can you follow up with the contractor and get a status for me?”
“They called late last night. He said it’s all complete and told you to call if you have any questions.” I hand him the slip of paper with the details from the voice mail. “Your ten o’clock canceled and they didn’t have a reason other than they were not ready, so I pushed them off to next month for a reschedule date.”
“Thank you.” He nods, going through the other messages I handed him. “You like that ogre of mine best friend?” he inquires.
“Yeah, Royce, I really do.” He mumbles something under his breath and walks off to his office. Not that I expected anything less from Royce Riggins. He’s broody pretty much all the time. When I first started at Riggins Enterprises, he was different. Still broody at the office, but not so serious, or sad. His ex-wife really did a number on him. He needs to put himself out there and find love again, but he’s stubborn as hell and convinced himself that a woman in his life is the last thing he needs.
“Hey, Sammy.” Marshall grins, leaning against my desk. “I sent you an email with the marketing campaign for Idaho. Do you mind printing and binding ten copies?” he asks.
“Not at all. I’ll get it done for you today.”
“I don’t need it until later in the week, so there’s no rush.” He stands to his full height. “Thank you.” He waves as he walks toward the elevator. No doubt he’s headed downstairs to the marketing department to touch base with his staff. That’s one thing I will say about the Riggins brothers. None of them have to work, but they do, and they give it one hundred and ten percent.
I’ve worked all morning on a staffing report for Grant. Finally, it’s finished, so I print it out and take it to his office. “Here you go,” I say, stepping inside and placing it in his inbox. “Numbers look good this month.” I smile at him.