Page 3 of My Bossy Valentine

“Thank you for doing this, Mr. Fletcher. I know this isn’t exactly your idea of a Thursday, but I owe you big time.”

I don’t want her to feel like she owes me. I’d rather she see me as someone she can come to whenever an issue like this comes her way. With a broad shoulder, she’s got plenty of room to lean on when she needs it.

Grunting, I nod. Making this easier for myself by looking at the GPS instead of her appreciative smile, I see we’ve reached Fairland. Fairland is hardly a small dot on the map, so it’s no wonder I didn’t know of Willow’s existence before she was selected from three other candidates for the assistant position.

When the device warns us we’re reaching our destination, I spot a small farmhouse planted on an acre of land. Peering at the house, I try to picture Willow coming from it. I’ve only ever known her for her blouses and pencil skirts. Something tells me a place like this doesn’t have many people like us roaming out and about.

“I’ll warn you, my parents are very loving. Be it to those related or not. They’re very welcoming.” She grimaces a bit. “You can’t yell at them if they do something you don’t like.”

“I can handle myself, thank you.” Shutting off the vehicle, I don’t take her warning seriously enough. With no intention of making Willow look bad, I plan on being on my best behavior. I can handle people, even those who aren’t like those I typically deal with daily. “I don’tyellat people.”

She sucks on her teeth, grimacing at my statement. “If we’re pretending you’re not my boss right now, then I think I may be honest with you. Youdo.”

“If you’re pretending to be my girlfriend, then you need to stop calling mesir.You’re going to give your parents the wrong impression.” Being honest with her, I’m surprised by how quickly her cheeks grow dark.

What I would do to know what she’s thinking, especially now.

Nodding her head in agreement, she shoves her door open and hops out with nothing else to add to this minor disagreement.

I do the same and circle around to open the trunk. Accessing our luggage for the trip, I’m reaching to grab Willow’s without a second thought. In my head, I wouldn’t want her lifting even a single finger when I’m at her side.

The screech of a screen door catches our attention, and I spot a short woman appearing. She’s confused at first, but as soon as she spots Willow, her face lights up like a beacon.

“Oh, boy.” Willow takes in a deep lungful. “My mother.”

We both watch this woman make it down a set of creaky steps before darting over toward us.

“Careful, don’t slip. There’s plenty of ice–”

Despite the warning, her mother makes it over to us and steals the breath from Willow’s lungs as she wraps her arms around her frame.

Willow’s smile is breathtaking as her mother squeezes her so tight. Soon, she groans as she fights for her next lungful of air. “Missed you too, Mom.”

She mentioned how long it had been since she had seen her family in person. I’ve kept her so busy at work that it’s no wonder an entire year has passed.

Once she’s pulled away and looks at me, she blinks a few times. “You’reChris?”

Is it really that unbelievable? Now I really want to know what kind of person Willow described me as.

Grunting as the short woman throws her arms around me next, I realize I’m being hugged. For a moment, I’m not entirely sure what to do. Finally, I pat her back with hesitation. Can’t say I’m huge on getting touched by strangers.

Does my assistant really think I’d yell at a sweet woman like her mother? The thought is almost enough to make me crack a smile.

“Mom,stop,” Willow grows more pink as she looks at me. Mouthing an apology, I hit my limit and chuckle under my breath. I can survive a simple hug, even if they’re foreign.

“I’m sorry, it’s just been so long, and gosh, look at you. He’s real, and you look healthy and–”

We look at each other as she continues on and on through what I hope isn’t the start of happy tears. A hug is one thing, but consoling a weeping woman is not something I’m ready to handle.

Introducing herself as Chelsea, she invites us inside and warns thatWynterhas already arrived. I notice the way Willow’s smile tightens.

“We’ll be inside in just a moment.” Willow pops the trunk, her hands pulling out the few extra bags inside with a small huff as Chelsea starts her way back inside the house.

“Wynter?” Leaning close to her, I see a rare shift on her face.

“My sister.” For a moment, she frowns. “My younger sister, who is already happily married off to the man of her dreams.”

Is thatjealousydripping from her words?

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