Page 84 of Love Letters to Christmas

He’s upset that I threw an adorable celebration without him. Understandable.

“I’m sure everything’s fine.” I pop my phone back in my pocket. “I’ll warm up your food while you get dressed.”

“You don’t have t—”

“I want to.” Lifting her tray, I use my free hand to flick a finger between us. “What we have isn’t a transaction. What we have is better, okay? I will do what I want for you, and inevitably you will adore me, won’t you?”

A swallow moves her throat as she wets her lips. “Y-yes.”

“Perfect. Love you.”

Her sharp intake of breath makes me smile.

So I add, “Dearly.”

Her hands wring before her nightgown as I turn toward the door, and I don’t at all expect it when, “I love you, too,” hits my back.

Halfway out of her room, I face her again.

Beautiful, shy, scared, she stares at the floor, vibrantly red, vibrantlyChristmas. “So, so much.”

At the sight, peace fills me.

Because whatever’s about to happen hardly matters…so long as I can stay nearher.

Chapter Thirty-one

Almost fired to almost married.

Amelia

I am terrified. For several reasons. Primarily, however, because my boss is glaring at Brian, who has just set a Christmas present down on his desk. “And so,” Brian declares with a remarkable amount of hubris considering this conversation started withTell me why I shouldn’t fire you and give your job to Amelia, “that is why you shouldn’t fire me, but you’re welcome to move Amelia up the corporate ladder and make us prince and princess of the mailroom.”

My stomach twists.

“I never gave permission for a Christmas event in July, Brian,” Liam states, cold and hard.

Brian deflates. “Did you not hear my riveting recollection of how both employee and client satisfaction has improved over the course of the month? In your absence, I have fostered a kind and collaborative environment, all on a budget that neither overdrew the card you gave me nor resulted in a net loss. Will’s been running the numbers for me. Profits have improved. Workloads have leveled. You’ve not had any complaints.” Brian presents his fingers, counting on them. “I followed your instructions. I listened to yourwe’ll reassess for Christmas. I bring you the gift of mail!” He throws his arm out toward the giant red sack in the corner, which contains all the letters to Santa we collected—except, of course,mine. “What more do you want from me?!”

Heaving a sigh, Liam presses his fingers to his temples. “What is this?”

“This?” Brian asks.

Liam taps the gift before him, which is wrapped in blue penguin paper.

“Bribery, obviously. It’s a little something for you and Amber.” Brian’s arms cross. “Speaking of, where is your wife?”

“Home. Sleeping. Jet lag.”

“Oh, fantastic. You should open that, saythank you, Brian, you’re the best mailroom guy ever, and follow in her footsteps.”

Liam’s frown suggests that is not what he’s going to do. Nevertheless, he peels away the paper, opens the slim box inside, and stares at a pair of extra large polar bear pajamas.

Blood rushes from my head into my toes.

Brian’s going to get fired. I’ll have to run the mailroom by myself to support him. He’ll be devastated. I’ll lose my job because I’ll spend half my time petitioning for Brian’s reinstatement. We’ll be on the streets. I’ll have to sell my wax collection so we’ll fit in our cardboard box.

“Next time,” Liam grumbles, “don’t leave me out.”

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