Page 4 of My Bossy Valentine

“Getting married isn’t a race,” I remind her as I grimace at the truth behind the words when it comes to my case. I’ve been single for most of my life, turning down any offers with the knowledge that my money has an enormous influence.

“Between us, it is.” Sighing, she soon gasps when I pluck everything from her fingers. “All I’m saying is I wouldn’t be surprised if she pressured my mother into demanding that I bring you here with me.”

“It sounds to me that I should persuade someone else entirely of this little ruse, Willow.” Leaning in a little too close,she turns to look at me, and her chest swells with a lungful of air. “Well, should I play the role to the best of my ability?”

When I see a shiver roll through her body, I feel it, too. I’m simply teasing her, or I should be. I don’t want to overstep and be the reason she’d no longer see me as boss material. That thought, and the warnings that go with it go right out the window when she runs her tongue along her bottom lip and nods.

“Yes.” She meets my gaze and gives me another one of those knockout smiles. “Chris. Be the best boyfriend you can be.”

3

Willow

My boss isgood.

A little too good. Almost to the point where I want to believe this ruse is the real thing.

Chris Fletcher, CEO, is a cold, immaculate man who is happy to step on his competition and fire anyone he sees as incompetent. He’d rather lock the door to his office than deal with four people who do nothing but socialize as they eat.

Chris Fletcher, myboyfriend, sits next to me, his palm resting against the middle of my back with his fingers stroking the back of my neck. He’s touching me, and I didn’t even have to beg him to do so. Right now, I can’t tell if I want to giggle or squirm. At the moment, I’m too busy staring at the warm smile on his lips, melting away the cold exterior I’m so used to seeing.

My heart doesn’t understand that this is some kind of act, a play on his part. All he’s doing is giving my sister a reason to stare, and oh boy, is she.

If I have to guess, she’s probably trying to figure out how I snagged such a good-looking guy. That’s one mystery she will not solve. Thankfully, she can’t ask a thousand questions to poke holes in my story. Like me, she’s returned to town, and now it’s her turn for our parents to ask a bunch of questions.

“Do you want a second plate?” Mr. Fletcher–no,Chris, asks as he leans in. His breath tickles my ear, and this time, I can’t help but squirm. Hehasto understand how much effort he’s putting into this act of his. When I shake my head, he chuckles.Chuckles!“You’ve been staring at your empty plate for a while now.”

Looking at him, I fight the urge to lean in. With the excuse to do whatever I please with this man, I’m tempted to touch his arm, his shoulder, any of his body, really. Touch it just because I can. His smile is still there, and looking at it makes me wish it would stay forever.

“You have a lovely smile.” Murmuring the words without thinking, his little snort helps make me realize. As heat crawls up my throat, I sputter. “I mean, you just don’t–”

“You make it sound like I don’t smile enough, Willow.” His thumb tickles my hairline. “Is that it? Should I smile more?”

“No.” The answer comes immediately and with surprising confidence.

If he smiled like this, his employees wouldn’t avoid him at all costs. Many of the female employees would surely find an excuse to come see him. They’d even try to take him away from me.

You’re making it seem like he belongs to you, Willow. Get a grip.

His smile doesn’t disappear. Rather, itgrows. “Just for you then, sweetness.”

Sweetness!I want to cover my face and scream. Like some young girl with her first crush, I fight the bubbling urge to giggle.

Forget about him saying my name. I’ll take a pet name any day of the week.

I’m already dreading the end of the weekend. Once everything returns to normal, I’m going to miss this. Even if we’re pretending, and he’s saying words he should, I know by Monday morning, I’m going to suffer.

For now, still so early in this trip, I want to enjoy myself and let myself think for even a day, that this is real. Right now, I’m living in a fantasy, and I don’t think anything can make this better.

“Oh!” Wynter gasps as if she suddenly remembers something important. “We have something to give you.”

Just as she darts away from the table, my father scoffs and tells her she doesn’t need to bring them anything. It falls on deaf ears because my sister returns with a white gift bag with blue tissue paper sticking out from the top.

“It’s from both of us.” Sitting back down, she reaches over and squeezes Hugh’s hand. “We both put equal effort into it.”

He chuckles like there’s a joke to be told, shared between the two of them.

I watch as my mother is happy to pluck away the tissue paper. Crumpling it up, one of the balls rolls my way and hits my plate. It’s the way she gasps that makes a heavy weight form in my stomach. It’s like I already know what the gift is without even looking in the bag.

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