Page 45 of Under the Mistletoe
“Mm-hmm… I do…” His hand caresses me so gently I almost melt right into the mattress. He raises his body then, hovering over me, his nose almost touching mine as I feel his body settle against my own.
“What are you doing?” I don’t need a mirror to know I have a wicked grin on my face.
“Mmmmm… kissing you…” he murmurs, brushing his nose against mine before our lips meet.
Right then, his cell chimes, just as mine starts ringing, and he slides back off me. The perfect bubble we had bursts. We need to get back to the city.
I sit at the back of the shop, staring at the mug of coffee Aunt Vivian made me. The jet took just under an hour to get back, and Gordon was waiting for me on the tarmac. I left Donovan with the promise that we would both take the weekend to think about what we are doing. Then I went straight to my apartment, where I showered, then changed and came straight to the shop. All the while Donovan’s burning kisses and warm touch never strayed from my mind.
Now as I sit with my thoughts around the familiar boxes of sprinkler attachments and hoses, I try to objectively look at the situation I’m in.
“Jimmy was in the shop earlier looking for you,” Uncle Bob says, and I nod. My mind is not on Jimmy at all.
“He probably wanted to have lunch,” I say absentmindedly.
“Not sure why he keeps asking when you keep saying no. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t like that kid.” Uncle Bob shakes his head. I see him and Aunt Vivian share a look.
“You okay, honey?” Aunt Vivian sits next to me as Uncle Bob nervously looks on from a few feet away. I’ve been quiet today. Not myself. And they can see that. I’ve spotted them looking at each other, concern etched into their brows.
“Is it the fact that your parents will be here this week?” Uncle Bob questions. I completely forgot. Thanksgiving is this week, and my parents decided to show up for the holiday this year. Assuming they actually do turn up.
“I can come by early and help.” I look at Aunt Vivian, knowing that she has Thanksgiving under control, but each year, I arrive early and help her with the sides while Uncle Bob watches football. It’s one of my favorite holiday traditions.
“I’d love that.” She squeezes my hand, and I take a deep breath.
“It’s not my parents.” I feel slightly bad that my blood relatives haven’t even popped into my head. “It’s…” Oh God, how do I tell them? Do I tell them? “It’s a work thing…” I swallow. They know I’m lying. I’m literally the worst liar.
“Did something happen in Lake Placid?” Uncle Bob’s brow crumples.
They knew I was snowed in. I texted them as soon as I knew, not wanting them to worry if they couldn’t get a hold of me.
“Kind of.”
“You got that look on your face, kiddo.” Uncle Bob watches me carefully, and our eyes meet. I can’t hide from him.
“Well… I’m seeing someone… and that someone is my boss,” I blurt out. Aunt Vivian blinks like the words spooked her, and Uncle Bob stands to full height, like he’s ready to go to war for me.
“I’m assuming this is consensual and reciprocated?” Aunt Vivian is selective with her words.
“It is. I think we both felt it the moment we met. We’ve been fighting it for weeks, trying to remain professional. But in Lake Placid…” I trail off, and she nods.
“He’s the billionaire? With a private jet? Always in the news?” Uncle Bob confirms, knowing exactly who he is.
I nod. “That’s the one.”
“The same one who promoted you, gave you a driver so you weren’t in the city at night on your own? The guy you were in the papers with, protecting you from the cameras?” He softens, and I know he appreciated that little work perk since he’s always worried about me taking the subway.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Well…” Aunt Vivian clears her throat, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s unexpected… but is he treating you right? Is he kind?” Her eyes search mine.
“He is. I know his reputation is somewhat harsh and polished. He has a strong work ethic, and it’s actually one of the things I admire about him. But he’s also protective. Ensures I’m okay and looked after. He respects me, my thoughts, my ideas both at work and in the world,” I tell them as I feel my chest warm just thinking about him.
“Well, you don’t fall for flash or money. You fall for substance and kindness. So if you’re telling us he’s good to you… I believe you.” I look up at Uncle Bobby and my shoulders lower.
For the first time in a long time, I feel wanted. And I’m falling. I’m falling for him more than I thought was possible, and even though I’m scared to put my feelings on the line, I know deep within that I’m head over heels for this man.
“I was worried to tell you.”
