Page 13 of Coming for Her Grumpy Boss

“Fair enough. If this is about assembling furniture, I must admit that I’m a complete menace with an Allen wrench. But I am a genius when it comes to finding unsuspecting people to help with said tasks.”

“Not furniture.”

“Then do you need a body buried? Or the unaliving part that happens before burial?

“Stop offering felonies,” he says, but there’s the tiniest tug at his mouth. “Christ, woman.” He turns his body to face me more. “Instead of playing verbal charades, maybe you could let me just tell you what I need.”

“Right. That probably makes more sense.”

“Natasha is returning from her travels in time for the holidays,” he says.

Oh no. He’s going to ask me to pick out his girlfriend’s present or something horrifying like that. I will buy her something horribly tacky, I won’t be able to help myself.

“Thorne has informed me that she wants to rekindle our relationship, but that is not going to happen.” He shakes his head. “So I need a stand-in.”

“Do we send her a fruit basket or a restraining order?”

“Neither,” he says. “We send a clear message.”

I stare at him, willing his words to make sense. “Wait, you and Natasha aren’t still together?”

“What? No, we broke up more than a year ago. How did you not know that?”

“I guess I just assumed she wasn’t around because she was traveling, but that you spoke on the phone or whatever.”

Again, he shakes his head. “No. And I have no desire to engage in a relationship with her. Thus, the need for a stand-in.”

“I am trying very hard not to be dense here, but I truly have no idea what you’re saying.”

“I need another girlfriend. Or someone to play my girlfriend for the holidays. So she’ll understand that we’re not getting back together.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know, I suppose I could see if I know anyone looking for a short-term job. I don’t have any acting friends or anything.”

This, for reasons I do not understand, makes him laugh. Like toss-his-head-back-and-guffaws kind of laugh.

“You, Mia. I want you.”

For a minute his words hijack my brain and I nearly crawl into his lap and lick him. Somewhere. To let him know I want him too. But no, that’s not what’s actually happening, regardless of how the words came out. He did not mean that he wants me wants me. At least not that way. He wants something from me.

“To pretend to be your girlfriend,” I provide for him.

He nods. “Yes. Exactly.”

“What will that entail? Like a dinner or something?”

“No. It’s a weekend at my house in Crescent Bend. Both families are gathering there because I refused to go anywhere this year.”

“Where do y’all normally meet?”

“Vail,” he says.

“With an i?” I shiver. “Brrr… snow.”

“All snow is cold,” he deadpans.

“Texas ice could take it in a fight.”

I know he’s not originally from Texas. He and Thorne met at some fancy boarding school in England. But somehow they ended up here in Saddle Creek, Texas. Well, technically, we’re in Limestone. Thus, the name of the Brewery. It’s the oldest brewery in the state and nearly went bankrupt a few years ago before Ford bought it and turned things around.