Page 8 of My Bossy Valentine

“You are terrible,” I murmur. The smile on my face is hardly scolding enough.

“The absolute worst, some say.” His smirk makes my head reel, and I get dizzier the longer I look at it. “I believe the event is finally starting. We should pay attention.”

Yes, we should. Yet, I can’t help but gaze at him, a magnetic pull that I can’t resist. Yearning for him consumes me. He entwines his fingers with mine, pressing my palm against his thigh, and my heart races uncontrollably. We’re lost in our roles, but I crave every moment of contact, every touch of his skin that sends electrifying shivers through me. I don’t just want to touch him—I want to lose myself in him completely.

It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m at a wedding with the man of my dreams. Deep inside my gut, I wish he was the one standing up there, fidgeting nervously. Is Chris the type to get nervous? Over a woman, I doubt it. Still, I want to be the one walking down the aisle.

Forcing my head to turn to look face forward, the sound of a piano starting brings goosebumps to my arms.

“Is this what you want, Willow? A big wedding like this?” Despite his suggestion, he can’t help but keep whispering to me. Like he can read my mind, his fingers squeeze mine.

“Yes.” Whispering the truth without hesitation, I nod. “Just like this.”

Surrounded by caring friends on the benches, while the room buzzes with excitement. I’m not asking for much here. The biggest request is for the man I want to call my husband.

His thumb traces the vein on the back of my hand. Nodding his head, he follows my gaze and watches my father. “Noted.”

There he goes, saying something that he shouldn’t. I doubt anyone is listening to us, too busy with their own company. They don’t need to hear us discussing my nonexistent wedding.

Shushing my heavily beating heart, I try to calm myself so sitting through this wedding will be a piece of cake. Knowing there’s still the reception to get through before this day can wrap up, I keep my head held high.

The sooner we finish everything, the sooner things can return to normal. Back to when I longed for my boss and he never noticed. We’ll pretend this weekend never happened, and I’ll eventually forget about it.

Whether it takes days, or months, or years, I’ll eventually have to forget.

I have to.

6

Chris

For the entire wedding, I watch the longing behind Willow’s gaze. Watching her imagine her own playing out behind her dazed eyes, I remind myself of the custom-made ring with her name written all over it. I’d placed it after too many glasses of whiskey, and it’s been sitting on my dresser, collecting dust since the day it arrived.

With the intention of one day giving it to her, offering her the position of my wife, I’m more sure than ever. I need to ask her immediately. Once we’re back home, she won’t think this is part of the act.

Alongside renewing their vows, they’ve insisted on having a reception. For a family this big, I can see why.

Between drinking too many glasses of wine, eating heaps of food, and swarming the dance floor, everyone seems to have a good time. Willow introduces me to whoever drifts in our direction, and I do my part by shaking their hands. Every timeI introduce myself as her boyfriend, the more it feels natural against my tongue.

Some even ask about marriage, and I can’t help but give them the answer I want. Even if it makes my assistant blush, or squeeze my hand, I promise them a future possibility.

To her, I’m playing up a large lie. Adding more and more layers. At first, a lie may seem untrue, but that can change depending on the circumstances. Soon, she’ll have that ring on her finger and everyone will know.

Now, we’re sitting at one of the round tables, watching a paid DJ shuffle through his playlist. Tapping my finger against the table, brushing my empty glass, I soon sit up. “Do you want to join the others and dance?”

She jerks her head and looks surprised. “You’d want to?”

I crack a smile. “With you, of course.” The truth slips out and I stand before I can take it back. “You’ll be surprised to hear that I’m rather good at it.”

Her lips part as she searches for an answer to my invitation. When I offer my hand, her chest swells. “Well, I should at least warn you I may have two left feet.”

“Nonsense.” If it’s like everything else this woman does, she’ll throw herself into it completely until she masters the task. As her fingers slide against mine, I grip her hand and tug her towards the other swinging couples. I’ll give Chelsea credit when it’s due, she requested the perfect amount of slow songs.

Once we make our way over, I feel a few curious eyes gather in our direction. Willow must as well, because she gets even more shy.

“Look at me, Willow. I’m going to need your full attention.” Giving her the order, I can’t help but notice the goosebumps forming along the length of her arms. I swear, it feels like I’m learning something new about this woman every time I’m with her. Has she always reacted this way when I give her orders?

“Yes, sir.” Agreeing so easily, I realize that there is one thing I wouldn’t change if she were to become mine. I don’t mind being calledsiras much as I let on. From her shaky voice, I think I like it a bit too much. Now is not the time to think about that.

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