Page 6 of Gotta Have Mistletoe
“Let me help.” He moves his hands to my suit and brushes the heavy gray fabric. Sparkles glide in the air.
“Crushed Christmas ornaments,” he explains.
“Ooh.” The word is revoltingly close to a moan, and Sven immediately moves closer.
“No touching,” Sven tells Glen sternly. “This man is royalty!”
Glen’s cheeks redden. “I’m sorry. I’ve never met a king before.” He drops his hands, and I resist the impulse to tell him he can keep touching me.
I catch Olav’s incredulous gaze. Even Anders looks startled.
I step away from Glen. “It’s fine, Sven.”
My bodyguard continues to glare.
“Glen! What did you do?” An angry voice shouts, then a brash man with a garish suit and gelled blond hair steps through the gap in the wall.
Glen’s eyes round, and I want to tell him it will be okay.
Instead, he turns from me. “Uh, hi, Mr. Brenner.”
Sven clears his throat and leads me away. I turn my head to watch Glen.
“Reckon I’m fired?”
“You reckon correctly,” the brash gentleman referred to as Mr. Brenner says.
I freeze and turn back to Glen. His cheeks are scarlet, and I’m ushered away by my team before I can figure out what to say.
I should have said something.
CHAPTER THREE
Glen
Fired. I trudge back through the snowy airport parking lot and slink into my truck. It’s freezing inside, and puffs of white clouds form from my mouth. I text Casey that Garland Contracting’s services are no longer needed and promise her that she’ll get paid regardless.
The truck rumbles toward my house, and I sink into my seat as if I can hide from the view of any busybodies. Snow sweeps over the hilly landscape, dusting even the red sandstone mountains. Everything sparkles and normally I admire the prettiness, but Mr. Brenner’s words crawl through my body and wrap around my gut.
Why did I have to fall through that glass window? And why did I have to get fired in front of the king?
I can still feel his fingers where he touched my cheek, all gentle-like, when he removed the mistletoe.
He was handsome too. More attractive than I had any business noticing.
If I didn’t know better, I would have thought there was something between us. I shouldn’t confuse concern with interest, pity for passion.
Mr. Brenner yelled at me in front of the king. The king’s pretty blue-green eyes had gone wide and worried, and I wanted to tell him I would be okay, that I’d manage.
Didn’t think I was the type to go off-kilter over royals from some foreign country but reckon I was wrong. The king’s cute, upturned nose and pretty eyes fill my mind as make the drive home.
Not that the large white farmhouse feels like home anymore.
I park my truck in the driveway, then enter. The large wide painted floorboards, shabby chic furniture draped with soft fabrics, and windows overlooking the large yard and views of Nevada mountains were once my dream.
Now it’s the place where the policemen came to break the news to me that Dean had passed, the place where I had to tell Max that his Papa had been called up to heaven.
I thought Dean and I would have decades.
