Page 10 of Dear Grumpy Boss

He’s in a playful mood. Which is like…never.

I shiver.

The sweatshirt’s loose on the shoulders and snug at my chest. Something hot and wild streaks through me as the scent of him engulfs me. “I’ll get it dry-cleaned—”

“Keep it,” he says, shocking me yet again.

I jerk my head up. Without my glasses, the sharp angles of him are a little blurred. And his lush mouth looks smudged, as if someone kissed the hell out of him. By someone, I mean me. “It’s your safety blanket.”

My vision is really fuzzy without my glasses, but I think he smiles at that. “But you look good in my sweatshirt, Mouse. Really good.”

My mouth falls open but no words come out.

“My glasses,” I finally manage to say, reaching out a hand.

Holding them, he covers the little distance between us. The heat from his body strokes me in a coiling wave. His chest is so close to mine that if I take a full breath, my breasts would brush it and…

“Your eyes.” He sounds entranced. “I’ve never seen them this close, without glasses. They are gorgeous.”

“I…they aren’t…” When he raises a brow, I sigh. He’s still a vague outline to me. “Thank you.”

“They’re really sensitive, right?”

I nod.

“What happened to the retinal surgery?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Adam mentioned it like…four or five years ago.”

“It didn’t work out,” I say, and shuffle in place. Signaling for him to move back or let me pass.

He does neither. “Why?”

“It just didn’t.”

“And I’m asking why.”

I sigh. When he asks questions in that tone, he won’t give up until he gets answers. The right ones, at that. “It’s still in experimental stage and only two doctors can perform the surgery in the entire country.”

“So?”

“So, it’s prohibitively expensive,” I snap. “Like I’d have to sell a kidney to get it done, but since I’m saving that for granny, I can’t.”

Something like warmth fills his eyes and he hands the glasses back to me.

I slide them on and the world should feel right again. Except Zayn is watching me with a strange expression. My world stays tilted, if not upside down.

“Did you need something? You rushed in here,” I say. “Is it the caterers?”

“No. I had some questions for you.”

He sounds so serious that I straighten my shoulders. “Okay, let me get a pot of coffee going and I’ll meet you in your office.”

“I gave myself the afternoon off. Let’s talk here.”

“Off?” Shock stuns me. This day just won’t end. “You’re like…Scrooge. You even work on Christmas morning.”

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