Page 50 of Tempted By the Bosshole

“You have this fallacy that me wanting revenge automatically means I’m a villain who won’t care about you or how you feel. Why does it have to be one or the other? Why can’t I find ways to get revenge and still adore my new wife?”

She scowls. “I guess…I never thought of it that way.”

“Try. They’re both true. My feelings toward your father don’t mean I want to do anything but shower you with the best and give you a good life.”

“I don’t know whether you’re brilliant or insane.”

“Think about it and let me know what you decide, okay?” I tap her nose with my finger.

“I guess I should have asked what’s up for Christmas before I threw myself a pity party.”

“I should have told you my thoughts so we could work it out together. If it’s okay, I hoped we could go to Steve and Laurel’s tomorrow around noon. We’ll have dinner and dessert, watch some football, maybe play a few board games, then come home.”

Isabella takes a minute to think that over, then nods. “That sounds nice. If you’re sure they won’t mind me crashing…”

“You’re not crashing; you’re family.”

She bites her lip, and I know that face. She wants to believe me but doesn’t. “How can I help? I don’t want Laurel to do all the cooking by herself.”

“My niece will help, too, but why don’t you call? I’ll bet Laurel has everything under control, but she’d appreciate hearing from you.”

“Okay.”

When my wife starts to leave my lap, I pull her back. “Where are you going?”

She scowls as if it’s obvious. “To call Laurel.”

“In a minute. I know it’s not Christmas morning, but I’d like to give you two things now.”

“Nathan, you’ve already given me so much.”

“Cock doesn’t count. Wait. Forget I said that. I’ll insist later that you need cock for Christmas.” I wink.

“Of course you will, but I’m not forgetting.”

I can’t resist laughing. “Brat. Close your eyes.”

Isabella sighs impatiently, but complies. I reach into my pocket and pull out the small beige box, lift the pendant from the case, then sidle next to her. “Sit up.”

Again, she does as I ask. She looks beautiful with her messy bun twisted on her head and tendrils falling loose to frame her face. The lights from the Christmas tree and the fireplace beam off her hair, which shines in a seemingly endless array of blond shades.

I slide the pendant around her neck and tighten the clasp. “There.”

She opens her eyes and touches the cool gold pressing against her chest, feeling its shape with her fingertips. Then she whips her shocked gaze to me before hopping to her feet and dashing to the mirror in the foyer. I follow, reveling in her stunned gasp.

“Oh, my god! My mother’s pendant! How did you get this?” Isabella starts crying again, this time happy tears. “How did you get it back from Eric?” Her eyes widen. “You must have thoroughly threatened him.”

“I did.”

“I can’t believe he backed down.”

“He definitely did.” I grin. “I also got the rest of your stuff out of your closet and dresser. It’s in your duffel in my trunk.

“Thank you so much!” Isabella launches herself at me. “This pendant is the most priceless gift ever! My grandmother gave it to my mother on her wedding day, and I?—”

“You don’t need to explain, baby girl. It’s important to you, so it’s important to me.”

She tears up again. Then she does something I don’t expect. For the first time, she kisses me, initiating our contact voluntarily. I could lose myself in her mouth, in her body. My cock wants to, but the moment is more important than an orgasm.

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