“Quid pro quo is one thing, developing feelings is another.”
His statement irks me more than expected. “What in the hell are you talking about?” I hiss to keep our conversation private.
“I saw the way you kissed her. You’re more into her than you think.”
“Like, hell,” I deny more vehemently than necessary. “We have a deal, and I’m upholding my part. That’s it.”
Lars holds up his hands. “I’m just saying—”
“You don’t need to; nothing has changed.” Everything in my body language—the hard stare, slightly balled fist, and the thin line of my lips—signals the end of the conversation.
Lars’ eyebrows tip up, but he doesn’t force the conversation. We’re back to business when we meet up at the bar with the rest of the employees as they sip from the employee alcohol stash I’ve created for occasions like this.
Today is inventory; I moved it up to avoid having my staff do this during the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. We’re closed for the day, which makes it a good time to have a mini staff party. It also means I’ll be home in plenty of time to get Bree naked.
My pulse races at the thought. I’ve never anticipated being alone with a woman as I am with Bree. I’m lost in the daydream until Lars’s words resurface.
Be careful.
Our eyes meet as if he’s talking to me subliminally. I scowl, and he laughs. I’m a couple of hours into inventory when the tension finally leaves my shoulders, but something else tenses when Bree appears.
“Sorry, Ma’am we’re closed,” Gloria says more out of impulse than actual concern of Bree’s presence.
“It’s okay, Gloria,” I respond over my shoulder because I’m already halfway to her.
I feel so drawn to her, compelled to be in her space. I push her back toward the entrance where the nook makes us invisible to my employees. My lips are on hers before she can speak. I can’t stop kissing her; though, my brain knows I should avoid it. Yet, the feel of my tongue, sliding across hers, brings a peace it shouldn’t. I emit a sound that’s not quite a moan or a sigh when her fingers find my hair. My hand wraps around and grabs her ass as if my palm has been lonely without it. I’m nibbling along her jaw when she speaks.
“That’s one hell of greeting,” she breathes. “I need to go Christmas shopping now.”
Her words belie her body since she’s still wrapped around me.
Bree looks deep in my eyes, her desire warming my insides.
“I need to go Christmas shopping,” she repeats. “I just don’t know how long until you want me to be home.”
“I tell you what,” I begin, then peck her on the lips. “Come have a drink, then I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to. You look busy.”
“I insist,” I tell her as I push her toward the group. “I need to get some things, too. Hotspot crew, this is my new neighbor, Bree. Bree, this is the Hotspot crew.”
She waves at the chorus of ‘hellos’ and sits shyly at the bar, nervously adjusting her now purple- rim glasses. Her arrival coincided with the start of our Secret Santa exchange—an idea I picked up from Remy. Although I’m not trying to get with any of my employees, it’s still a fun idea. I’m not surprised my employees are inappropriate because I am their leader after all.
After getting Gloria a gift card tucked into a gag box that read “Tampon warmers,” I chortled at the ‘Vagitarian’ t-shirt wrapped around a mug that is decorated to look like a condom wrapper and it reads, “Bearded for Your Pleasure.” A variety of condoms fall out of the mug causing my whole crew to laugh and make ‘ladies’ man jokes.” I don’t know why, but this is the first time mentions of my status bothers me.
I surreptitiously sneak a glance at Bree to see her reaction to my gift. Her face is unreadable, but she doesn’t look amused. I don’t have time to study her for fear of making things awkward. I feel Lars staring at me, but I refuse to look his way. It’s official, I’m ready to go.
“Alright, shitheads. Close up properly once the party is over. Bree and I have some Christmas shopping to do.”
We’re outside and heading to our cars within five minutes of my announcement. My phone vibrates as I connect it to the car charger.
Lars: Christmas shopping?
Me: Fuck off.
Lars: That’s right, everything’s under control.
Me: It is.
