Page 69 of The Lair

Charlie’s eyes land on me. “Allie Cat, the woman of the hour, will you do the honors and start the game?”

“Me?” I thought he would tell Sandra to go first or even do it himself.

“Yep. Who’s the lucky bastard?” He slides his eyes in Sandra’s direction and winks. “Or lovely lady.”

“Kid,” Jude growls under his breath.

I hold out my present for him, a shy smile on my lips. “This is for you, Jude.”

His face lights up as he takes my gift. “Ah, I already know this is gonna be good. Thank you, Smith.”

I pray that my smile doesn’t waver at his nickname for me. “No biggie.”

Just like I suspected he would, he takes one look at the T-shirt that says, “Proud husband of a freaking amazing wife,” and roars with laughter. Sandra also laughs.

“This is perfect.” He beams, putting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Thank you. I’m changing into this as soon as I get home.”

“The group chat would love a picture,” I say.

“You got it.”

Jude is next, and funny enough, his gift is for Sandra—a pair of shoes she’s been ogling for a couple of weeks that definitely go over the budget, but we all agree it’s okay because she’s his wife. Plus, they couldn’t be more adorable.

After planting a loving kiss on her husband’s cheek, Sandra holds out the small bag in her hand in Charlie’s direction. “For you, my sweet boy.”

Charlie’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree, but I’m barely paying attention. If I gave my present to Jude, Jude gave it toSandra, and Sandra gave it to Charlie, that means… that means Travis could have a gift for me.

Not now, heart. Behave.

I’m brought back to the present moment by Charlie’s loud hoot. “Oh shit! Literally.”

When Charlie shows us his present—a roll of toilet paper that says, “This is the crappiest gift I could find,” over and over again—I lose it. Everyone else laughs, too, and I think I even see the smallest hint of a smile on Travis’s lips.

Charlie wraps his long arms around Sandra and gives her a loud kiss on top of her head. “Thank you, Sandra. I can’t wait to wipe my ass with this.”

After setting his precious roll of toilet paper aside, Charlie rubs his hands together and glances mischievously between me and Travis. “See, now the excitement will be lost because whoever I give my gift to will be the other person’s Secret Santa.”

“Just get on with it,” Travis, who hasn’t uttered a single word since we started, grunts.

Charlie puts his hands up in fake surrender. “Okay, okay.” He reaches behind him and grabs a small box. “I hope you won’t fire me for this, boss.”

My breathing stops.

Travis is my Secret Santa.

I ignore the frantic way my heart is beating as he tears up the gingerbread-house-themed wrapping paper and is left with a plain white box. Then he opens it.

Travis blinks once, twice, at the mug in his hands. I can’t hold the laughter in when I read the message. “This is what a grumpy boss looks like” sounds about as accurate as a mug for Travis can get.

“I’m still on the payroll, right?” Charlie asks.

If I didn’t have that grumpy-looking face memorized by now, I would’ve missed the slight upward tilt of the corner of hismouth and the way his stare goes a bit softer and more amused. But I don’t.

“You’re good.”

“Amazing news for me. But sadly, I think we know who your gift is for, boss.”

I’m not ready for Travis’s eyes to find mine, and I’m not ready for how quickly he loses that easygoing inch of a smile. I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining the sudden tightness of his jaw either.

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