Page 3 of Rejoice

“It’s not a big deal, baby. I’ve never liked Christmas. It’s always been like any other day at work for me. But you have fun celebrating if you want. You don’t have to worry about my bah-humbug interrupting yourholiday.”

That was so not the post-sexy times cuddle admission I was looking for.

Work schmerk. We had enough money neither of us ever needed to work ever again in our lives. He was being a Scrooge.

Fine. Then I would give him the three ghosts of Christmas treatment.

I stayed quiet and formed a plan in my head. When we got back to the casita, I had phone calls to make and some ghostly holiday fun to create.

Passed the Past

Aconsiderable amount of my fortune well spent, and I was ready for Christmas Eve eve. Also known as the Ghost of Christmas Past.

Gray would hate every second. I’d likely earn some serious spankings too. If it meant I could remind him just how miserable we’d both been before we were together, all the punishments he wanted to give me, would be worth it.

I’d sent Gray to the mainland to get groceries. He thought I planned to spread my version of holiday cheer with Christmas cookies. Ha.

My ghosts waited in the wings, ready to swoop in and help me transform the casita the second he was away.

“Angelina, are you sure you understand what you’re doing? Gray will punch me in the face when he figures out what’s going on here.”

I so appreciated Jim coming down from the club two days before Christmas to be the official Ghost of Christmas Past. He’d even provided his own costume, in the form of combat fatigues and body armor.

“Trust me, Jim. He needs this.”

I rearranged my wig again. God, this thing was itchy. I’d been a bleach bottle blonde engaged to one of the biggest assholes on Fifth avenue when this Christmas had gone down.

Full-sized cardboard cut-outs of said asshole and a bunch of my other high society ex-friends decorated the inside of the casita. The fake friends transformed our place into a replica of my country club at Christmas time.

Ew. Made me nauseated just thinking of those days.

“You’re the boss. Who will be paying my cosmetic surgery bills to have my nose fixed when he’s done with me?”

“You’ll be fine. I’m the one who’ll get my ass reddened if this doesn’t work.”

“That, I’d like to see.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. Jim so needed to find himself a good sub. Dude had way too much sexual energy to be wasted on the flavor of the week.

“You’re a perv.” But such a sweet guy. Not that anyone would ever realize. He was too sexy and intimidating for his own good. I relished the day he met his match.

“Yep.”

Tires crunched on the gravel driveway. Showtime.

“Angel?” Gray called from the front hallway. “Whose jeep is that outside?”

I skedaddled over to the pseudo country club bar and cued the elevator music and coffee shop talk track on the stereo. I sat on a barstool and pretended to drink my Cosmo. I even fake chatted with the cut-out of Mindy Monaghan of the Boston Monaghans.

I had my back to the entryway. Gray’s presence filled the room the second he entered. He was silent for a minute, probably taking in my craziness.

“Jackass? What the hell is going on here? Angel?”

“Hey, man. Just remember she’s doing all this for you, you dickhead.” Jim cleared his throat and then woo-ed like a ghost. “Whoooooooooo.”

“There is seriously something wrong with you.” Gray groaned.

“Whooooooo. Grayson Scrooge, I am the Ghost of Christmas past. Whoooooo.”

“Jesus Christ.” The eye roll came out damn clear in Gray’s voice. Please, please, please let him buy into this.

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