Page 20 of Booked for the Holidays
Including putting up with my shit and telling me why we need to enter a stupid contest that’s going to give me a permanent migraine.
“You’re in charge, man,” he continues. “And you know I’d never step on your toes. I’ll remind you, however, you’re not the only one who works here. The rest of us want to participate. Look at the amount of money we could win. We want to have fun and wear tacky sweaters and eat candy canes. We want to spend time together, with some new people, and with you, too, you idiot. You might be a pain in my ass, but we all love working here.”
Dammit.
Lucas and his kind words make me feel guilty. It would be an absolute douchebag move to not let the employees try to win the significant cash prize. I’m already doing what I can to make sure their holiday bonuses are substantial. My personal opinions about this time of year shouldn’t hinder their chances to double the monetary benefits.
“Okay,” I sigh. “I understand your point. For the record, I’m not happy about this. I’m not going to hold hands and belt out Christmas songs at the top of my lungs.”
“God, that would be the day.”
“Speaking of new people, I introduced Bridget to Mac.”
Lucas’s eyes widen. A slow grin spreads over his mouth. His feet drop to the floor and he props his elbows on his knees, interested in hearing more. “No shit. How’d that go?”
The spontaneous encounter slingshotted past every boundary I’d previously established. With Mac’s constant badgering and threat to march over to the store herself, I was out of choices except to let them meet.
The panic Bridget showed was cute in a “let me give you six books for free because I don’t know what else to say” kind of way. Her cheeks turned pink and she gnawed on her bottom lip. It probably makes me an ass that I enjoyed watching her spiral a bit.
And then she challenged me. She met me toe-to-toe and said if she found out I was ashamed of my kid she’d be pissed as hell. Hearing those words, the protection over someone she just met, sent all rationality flying out the window. There was passion painted on her face. Fierce eyes with an ember of a spark daring me to say the wrong thing. Determined, strong jaw ready to launch into a tirade if necessary. The exhale escaping her lips as she tried to compose herself. The tip of her chin, bringing her gaze to mine, showing me she was unafraid.
It was hot as sin.
I kind of wanted to grab her cheeks, yank her to me and kiss her, right there, in the middle of the store on a Tuesday afternoon, just to see how she would react.
I think she would have liked it.
I would have liked it, too.
Shit.
I shrug at Lucas now, feigning nonchalance. My hand fiddles with the corner of a faded file folder, the inventory of a hammer order, my most recent purchase. “Fine. Good. She didn’t run away. Only a mild freak out that ended with her shoving a brownie in my hands.”
“Of course she didn’t run away.”
“Yeah, well, other people do. Other people have.”
“Other people aren’t Bridget Boylston.”
No, I think bitterly, gratefully, a tarnished mix of the two.They are not.
“I should… I should probably go and talk to her about logistics, right? Figure out a schedule for all of this nonsense. She can take the lead on plans. I guess we’re lucky to be paired with them. I bet she already has some ideas.”
I pause, thinking about A Likely Story covered in illustrations. Sketches of wreaths and snowflakes tacked to the walls. A table of candles and a questionnaire to complete, asking you to pick your favorite holiday scent. It’s going to look like the Situation Room. I snort.
“Something funny?” asks Lucas.
“No. I’m just… No. Nothing’s funny.”
His smile broadens. “I haven’t heard you talk about a woman in a while. Jesus, probably close to a decade now, huh? Nothing besides a date or two here and there. You’ve certainly never introduced your kid to a woman, either.”
“I’m nottalkingabout a woman. I’m talking about the person we’re working with for a project. We aren’t going to dinner. She’s not sitting at my kitchen table, eating pancakes. There’s a big difference.”
“What did Mac say about her?”
“She said she was nice and pretty. Then she gave me shit for avoiding the bookstore for so long.”
Lucas hums and stands, walking to the door. “Interesting. Kids sure are intuitive, aren’t they? Go talk to Bridget. I’ll let the troops know we’re clear to begin Operation Holiday Cheer. And tell your pretty woman I say hi.”
