Stupid good workplace that looks out for its employees.
The handbook mocked me further by explicitly stating you’reallowedto date other employees if you have the same job role. Really rubbing it in that as a trainee, I’m not allowed to date my bosses.
Yet I can’t bear to be separated from them, even if it means I must suffer through looking at their handsome faces all day while not being able to sit on their cocks.
The guys, meanwhile, have been orbiting me until suddenly they’ll realize they’re too close and back off. They’re obviously acting like interested alphas, so at least I know I’m not alone in wanting what I can’t have.
“Do you think we need more powdered sugar?” Charm asks, interrupting my sad, horny thoughts.
“A little more right here would be good,” I say, pointing at a sparsely sugared spot on our gingerbread roof.
He nods, face serious, as he carefully sprinkles the powdered sugar on it. When he’s done, Charm looks to me for approval, and I nod back.
I resume making our marshmallow snowmen while he adds red and green candy-coated chocolate to the roof.
The kitchen island is covered in candy for our gingerbread houses, which are in various states of construction. Holiday music plays in the background while we work.
Orion curses quietly as a piece falls off his house.
It’s not the first time that’s happened. I offered to help him earlier, but he said he had it under control. I suppose it’s possible he’s going for the rustic look on purpose, like an eclectic gingerbread person lives there.
Orion’s chimney breaks off for the third time, flattening the lopsided snowman that was unfortunately standing underneath.
I turn my giggles into coughing, but Cato doesn’t have my decorum, openly laughing at Orion’s construction woes.
Orion tosses him a quick glare before picking up the pieces to fix it.
Cato, meanwhile, somehow managed toget powdered sugar all over his bare chest and sweatpants. Probably because he’s lying on the counter as he works, propped up on his elbow next to his gingerbread house.
Before we started, Charm claimed he wasn’t very good at food decorating and asked to work together. My omega was thrilled, thinking he just wanted an excuse to play house with us.
Now, I have to admit I think she was right. Charm has done everything perfectly, perfect icing, perfectly straight walls, perfectly placed gumdrops. He clearly didn’t need my help at all.
I don’t mind his little ploy though. It’s been fun working together.
Henri made the gingerbread pieces for us this morning before work so they would have time to cool. After we finished our tasks for the day and returned to the station, he set up our gingerbread house-making activity.
I don’t know how he manages everything, making our meals, taking care of the station, doing our rescuer work,andplanning fun things like this.
Henri’s gingerbread house is a precise miniature replica of the station, complete with colorful candy lights.
Cato’s gingerbread…creation, on the other hand, is more like a fortress. He somehow reshaped his house pieces into a totally different layout.
I watch as he arranges another broken, jagged candy cane around the exterior, and can’t help asking, “What’s the inspiration for your decor?”
Cato grins and says, “It’s a castle with various defenses, as you can see. And here in the middle is the keep where you’d be safely locked inside.”
That’s kind of concerning, yet also somehow a littlesweet and hot that he wants to lock me in a tower. As long as they spend plenty of time in there with me.
I’m thinking too hard about this. I’m sure he’s just joking.
“It looks great. The best gingerbread castle I’ve ever seen,” I say.
Cato is pleased by my compliment, but Magnus heaves a sigh and says, “You can’t use your gingerbread house to plan to lock Hestia up.”
“It’s not like I’d give this to the builders as the blueprint. I’ll have actual plans drawn up,” Cato says.
Magnus makes another aggrieved noise and hangs his head, bracing himself on the counter.
