Jasper Owens was not easily distracted.
Not by quarterly losses.
Not by boardroom politics.
And certainly not by a five-foot-something assistant with a chaotic smile and a boyfriend who dressed like he shopped in the dark.
But then again, Jamie Lockwood wasn't like anything—or anyone—Jasper had ever worked with before.
Jamie was a walking contradiction to Jasper's cold, glass-tower life. Loud where he was silent. Scatterbrained where he was surgical. And yet, somehow, his notes were always organized, his coffee orders never wrong, and his calendar tighter than Jasper's tolerance for nonsense.
Still, the boyfriend was a problem. Not in any rational sense—Jasper had no business caring. But the guy was smug, overly familiar, and had an infuriating habit of calling Jamie "baby" in the break room.
Jasper hated that word. Almost as much as he hated the way Jamie blushed when he heard it.
Today was no different. Jamie bounced into the office, three minutes late, carrying his usual peace offering: a caramel espresso and that annoying, wide-eyed smile.
"You're late," Jasper said, not looking up from his screen.
"I brought caffeine," Jamie chirped, placing the cup down like a bribe. "Forgiveness in a cup."
Jasper didn't smile. He rarely did. But his jaw twitched slightly as he took the drink and caught the edge of Jamie's wrist brushing his fingers.
He didn't flinch. But he felt it.
Damn it.
He wasn't supposed to feel anything. He hadn't felt anything for anyone in a long time. And now this… this distraction had started out of nowhere.
Maybe it was time to call up one of his old flings. Remind himself of what normal used to feel like.
"Are you even listening to me?" Jamie leaned over the table, and that subtle scent he always carried wafted in—spicy and sweet, like cinnamon and something soft Jasper couldn't name.
He'd asked Jamie once what cologne he used, and the man had looked at him like he'd sprouted a second head.
"Meeting at 3. Got it," Jamie said, straightening. Then, he just stood there, watching him. Quiet. Curious. That look again—the one he wore when he was trying to figure Jasper out.
He was cute when he frowned like that. Irritatingly cute.
"This is not happening," Jasper muttered to himself.
"Stop that," he snapped, sharper than intended. His CEO voice. The one that made grown men shut up in meetings.
Jamie blinked. "Fine… I'll leave you alone."
He grabbed a stack of documents and strutted off. Halfway to the door, he tossed over his shoulder, "I think you need to get laid, boss."
The door clicked shut before Jasper could unleash the string of profanity clawing up his throat.
"Nasty temper," Jamie mumbled on the other side of the door. "One of these days, it'll get us both fired."
Jamie didn't like pushing Jasper too far. He had worked with the man long enough to know when to back off. But lately, Jasper had been moodier than usual—cold one second, boiling the next—and Jamie wasn't sure if it was him, or something else entirely.
Sometimes, he wondered if Jasper hated him.
He couldn't explain the sudden tension—the brooding looks, the scowls every time Josh came by, the way the air in the office changed when his boyfriend so much as touched his arm.
Like last week, when Josh called him "baby" in the break room. Jasper had sent death glares for the rest of the day and ended the afternoon by declaring that office relationships should be banned if they were going to "maul each other instead of work."
Jamie still had goosebumps thinking about the tone he'd used. Cold. Razor-sharp.
He hadn't dared say anything, though. He liked his job. Mostly. Even if his boss was an emotionally constipated tyrant with a jawline sculpted by God himself.
It wasn't like Jasper had the moral high ground anyway. Jamie had caught him—twice—in compromising positions with women who looked like they belonged on the cover of Vogue.
The man was a walking contradiction. One minute, untouchable. The next, glaring at Josh like he was a personal offense to humanity.
"Hey, baby."
Jamie jumped. Josh leaned into his small, glass-walled corner office, all easy charm and casual smiles. His hardhat hung off one hand, his steel-toed boots dusty from the site.
"You need anything?"
Jamie smiled. Josh was sweet. Gentle. Made him laugh. Took care of his cat. Never forgot birthdays or skipped date nights.
"I got a dinner with some friends tonight," Josh said, glancing toward Jasper's office. "Won't be home till late."
Jamie nodded. He'd met the friends. Wasn't a fan—especially Josh's best friend, who had a habit of making subtle jabs about Jamie not being Josh's "type."
Whatever that meant.
"That's fine. I've got work to catch up on anyway," Jamie said. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Too tired to drive to your place. But yeah, tomorrow."
Jamie nodded again, a flicker of disappointment passing through him before he could stop it.
The intercom buzzed.
"Jamie."
Jasper's voice. Low. Sharp.
Jamie sighed.
"What now?"