Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“I… I’m fine.” He leads me to the couch, and I take a seat, with Oliver taking the one right next to me. I clear my throat. “So, the seating chart.” I fumble with my bag as I dig my tablet out again, pushing the power button to bring it out of sleep mode.
“I’m sure you have it under control,” Oliver tells me.
Placing my tablet on my lap, I turn to look at him. “You’re not going to help me, are you?” I’m smiling because I know he doesn’t care about the gala. What I don’t know is why I’m here. Why did he volunteer to help me when he couldn’t care less?
“I’m here for moral support.”
“Riiiight,” I say with a laugh, dragging out the word.
“Fine. Let’s see this fancy chart of yours.” He holds his hand out for my tablet.
“I’m not sure I want you to see it now.” I rush to grab the tablet and hold it tightly to my chest.
“Are you holding out on me, Blake?”
Why is his voice husky all of a sudden? Why is my body melting into the couch at the sound of his tone of voice? I’m losing it. Before I can fire off a reply, my phone rings. Reaching into the pocket of my leggings, I see it’s a call I’ve been waiting for. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.” I offer him an apologetic smile while bringing the phone to my ear. “Jerry, hey,” I greet the caller. I feel Oliver stiffen next to me, but I ignore it.
I listen as Jerry tells me that everything is good to go for the Tree Lighting that’s two weeks away. “Has it been decorated?” I ask him. I listen again as he tells me they’re starting tomorrow night. “Great, I’ll stop by and check out the progress.” We settle on an agreed time, and I end the call.
“Who the fuck is Jerry?” Oliver asks.
I glance over at him to see his muscular arms folded across his chest. Damn that arm porn. No wonder my aunts are always going on about it. It’s… powerful. “Why?” I’m goading him, and I know it’s wrong, but I do it anyway.
He leans in closer, his arms still crossed. “Blake,” he warns. One word, my name on his lips, that growl, and I’m shifting in my seat.
Never in my life did I think a growl would be sexy, especially when directed at me, but here we are, making history. I mean, I’ve read about the sexy growl, but this is my first time to ever actually experience something I thought my favorite authors created to enhance the story. It turns out it’s not only real, it’s sexy as hell.
“Ollie,” I reply sweetly, knowing it will get under his skin.
He uncrosses his arms and lifts his hand toward my face. I freeze, thinking he’s going to cup my cheek, but instead, he brushes my hair back out of my eyes. “Who is Jerry?” he asks again.
“Jerry from maintenance.”
“Hmm. And why is he calling you so late?” He’s so close I can feel his hot breath flow across my cheek. There are just a few inches separating us. We’re way too close for a working relationship. Maybe that’s why all I can think about is leaning over and pressing my lips to his. For research purposes, of course. They look soft. Very kissable, if you ask me.
“Blake?”
“He works second shift.” I finally break out of my daydream of kissing him and give him the answer he’s waiting for.
“Are you meeting with him?” He leans back, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“Yes. Tomorrow night, around seven. They’re going to be decorating the tree to prepare for the Tree Lighting Ceremony, and I want to check on things.”
“You don’t have to be there for that.”
“I want to be. The Tree Lighting Ceremony is my project, and I want to make sure it goes off without a hitch.”
“They’re working you too hard.” He furrows his brow, as if my work schedule irritates him.
“I can handle it, just as I’ve assured my boss. My boss, Hilary,” I say to remind him he’s not my boss—thankfully. Daydreaming about kissing your boss is definitely not good. Grounds for termination for sure, but I’m in the clear. Oliver isn’t my boss, and there isn’t a no-fraternization policy unless it’s direct reports. I might have checked yesterday while on my lunch. I needed some light reading, and that’s the story I’m sticking to.
“I’ll go with you.”
From the look on his face, he’s not in love with the idea.
“That’s not necessary. Jerry and I have had several after-hours meetings.”
“We’ll go to dinner first,” he announces, as if his word is the gospel.
“I’ll probably just work until it’s time to meet with Jerry.” I’m just being a brat now, but I’m not going to let this man, no matter how sexy his arm porn and growly voice are, walk all over me. “You don’t like Christmas. Why would you want to be there for this?” I’m goading him again.