It was a gag gift from our secret Santa exchange last year. Sure, it would have been more professional for the owner of said gift to take it home with them, but professional isn’t exactly the best word to describe our town office. We’re not a bunch of mischiefs running around pulling stupid pranks, but the work environment has become pretty chill over the last year.
Grayson’s what most would consider a perfect boss. Or, at least, a pretty damn nice one, considering how much slack he gives us. One would assume the town office would be full of quiet, tense worker bees, but ours is the opposite.
The cupboard full of mugs with pink bunny asses and some pretty crude jokes is a total HR nightmare. Still, he hasn’t madeus throw them out yet. I personally think he gets a kick out of seeing the selection grow every few weeks.
“I wondered when I’d get stuck with this mug,” he says, setting it down.
“It’s made its rounds, that’s for sure.”
Grayson tips his chin and tightens his stare. “Is this really all you came here for? If so, I should return to my work.”
“Wait!” I shoot a hand out in front of me before slapping it back against my leg.Jesus Christ.“We need to talk about this weekend. Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“I haven’t changed my mind, Jill.”
“Alright. Well, I’ve got the hotel confirmation and address that I was going to email you this afternoon, just so you, you know, have it.”
“Thank you.”
“And then, obviously, I was going to ask if you wanted to drive up together or take separate vehicles. Either is fine with me, but you know how Canmore is. There’s never any parking anywhere, especially this time of year,” I ramble.
His brows slip down as he stares at me, knitting together. I’m so close to simply spinning around and ducking out of this office before I choke on the foot I’ve shoved down my throat.
“I was hoping we’d go together. You’re a terrible driver.”
“What? No I’m not!”
His features relax, eyes lightening. “You are. I figured we would avoid an accident on the highway and I’d drive.”
“Honestly, driving is the least I could do. You’re really saving my ass here.”
“Is the ex that bad?”
I blow a raspberry. “Whatever you’re imagining, make it worse and then add a greasy mustache.”
“And he’s still attending the wedding, correct? Ivy was mentioning it earlier,” he says, his voice growing quieter with each word.
Rolling my eyes, I pull my hair off my neck to try and cool it. “Yeah, he will. My mother isn’t the type of woman who invites someone to something like this and then uninvites them. She’s pissed at me for bringing a different date, so fair warning, you’ll probably catch a few strays when we get there tomorrow. I’m going to be the main target, so don’t fear her too much.”
“I’m not afraid of your mother. I did want to ask for a few more specifics, though.”
He pulls his leather chair away from the desk and takes a seat. His shoulders are wider than the seatback and overhang a couple of inches on either side, which isn’t a very subtle reminder of just how huge this man is. He could well and truly toss a woman around if he wanted to, which obviously isn’t going to happen here.
Absolutely not.
Despite Ivy’s obsession with trying to convince me that our boss is secretly crushing on me, I don’t buy it. What she sees as flirting, I find more teasing than anything else. His offer to help me convince my family that I’m in love and happy with my life the way it is wasn’t some sneaky love declaration.
And even if by some wild one percent chance that Ivy is right, I doubt Grayson is the type of guy to like that sort of thing in the bedroom. Not with that whole Clark Kent thing he has going for him.
I clear my throat. “What do you want to know?”
“The names of your family members, for starters. I don’t want to misspeak while I’m playing my part and make things complicated for you.”
“Meredith and Howard are my parents’ names. My sister is Kate, and her fiancé’s name is Vince. Everyone else reallyisn’t important. You won’t be expected to know more than that. Besides, it’s my mom and sister who are going to go at you the hardest.” I chew on my lip, nerves prickling my skin. “There’s still time for you to back out, Grayson.”
In the silence that follows, I can hear the sound of the printer puking paperwork outside the door and the clack of Ivy’s heels down the hallway past the office. She’s most likely trying to eavesdrop like the snoop she is.
Exhaling, Grayson rolls his chair close enough to the desk that he can drop his forearms over it. With his hands clasped on the mahogany, it looks like he’s going to chastise me for something rather than continue a conversation about pretending to date me. It’s messing me up.
