I stroll over, watch him watching me as he continues to button up his shirt. I stop directly in front of his desk, push my coat aside, and reach down into my cleavage to pull out the folded-up piece of paper. I hold it up between two fingers.
Not gonna lie to you. It feels good to watch that jaw clench. To see that vein along the side of his neck. To see his eyelids grow heavy and that Adam’s apple bob up and down just once.
I drop that folded-up signed document onto his desk and turn on my heels and say, “I’m going home now. To pack. If you need anything, work-wise—let the temp know.” Before opening the door, I stage whisper without looking back at him: “See you in Ohio, sweetheart.”
I grab my laptop and bag from the locked drawer in my desk and answer a couple of questions for the temp, but then I make a quick exit. I don’t even wait for the elevator. I would rather walk down seven flights of stairs in these heels than get caught after touching my boobs in front of my boss and dropping the mic like that.
Not that I don’t think I can handle facing him again. I graduated top of my class in Business Administration. I had six job offers before I’d even finished my exams. I’ve got recruiters trying to scout me all the time, even when I’m not looking… If shit gets real between us over the holidays, I’ll have no trouble finding another job.
But I’m not worried.
I’ll continue to have no trouble resisting him. As long as there’s no alcohol. Or mistletoe. And he doesn’t do anything terrible, like be nice to me or take off his shirt when I’m around or smile at me.
Merry fucking Christmas to me.
Chapter Eleven
DECLAN: Cooper. Did you specifically request that I be seated next to the most boring man on the plane?
MADDIE: Actually, he requested to be seated next to the grumpiest, most intolerable man on the plane. Sometimes things just work out. <woman shrugging emoji>
DECLAN: He just described every single thing he had to eat today. In great detail. He didn’t have to. I could see it all between his teeth and on his jacket.
MADDIE: BE NICE!!!
DECLAN: I’m always nice, Cooper. Why don’t you try being nicer to me for a change? It’s sort of a requirement as my girlfriend. You should probably start practicing now.
MADDIE: This is me being nicer to you. I’m smiling at my phone right now. See?
MADDIE: <image sent>
DECLAN: Jesus. That’s what you look like right now?
DECLAN: I mean, the finger was unnecessary. But fuck.
MADDIE: Would you care to register a complaint?
DECLAN: Yes. No one else should be able to see you looking that good. You should be sitting next to me right now.
MADDIE: Better safe than sorry. And I, for one, am not sorry.
DECLAN: You have a stopover at Dulles. You should be on this nonstop flight with me. It’s stupid.
MADDIE: I’ll be in Cleveland an hour and a half after you land. It’s not that bed.
MADDIE: It’s not that bad. <woman facepalming emoji>
DECLAN: Already thinking about getting into bed with me, huh? I like it.
DECLAN: But this arrangement is unnecessary and a waste of time, and it’s already terrible. Who are you sitting next to? It better not be a guy.
MADDIE: Oops! Time to put the phones away. See you in C-town, hon! <winking face emoji>
DECLAN: That had better be sexty double entendre.
DECLAN: I will remind you that I’ve got dibs on your C-town until January 2nd, Cooper. Potential, consensual DIBS.
DECLAN: Cooper.
DECLAN: Maddie.
DECLAN: Unacceptable. Text me when you get to Dulles and when you leave Dulles and when you land in Cleveland. And when you realize what a bad idea it was for us to travel separately. And when you realize how much you miss me.
Twelve
Maddie
DASHING, THOUGH NO SNOW
I was expecting it to be cold in Cleveland. I’m not naïve—I knew that simply being in another city with Declan in a nonwork capacity would feel different. I have been mentally and emotionally preparing myself to handle any possible mood that he might be in and varying degrees of handsomeness depending on his wardrobe and facial hairiness.
But gosh darnit, nothing has prepared me for the sudden rise in body temperature and flood of hormones and emotions and bodily fluids triggered by seeing Declan Cannavale standing there in the arrivals concourse. He’s holding up a hand-written airport pickup sign that says WELCOME TO C-TOWN, COOPER. GET YOUR ASS IN THE CAR—NOW!
His lopsided grin is infuriating, his day-old scruff is mouthwatering, his suit and coat are elegant, and the slow journey his eyes are making from my bunhead down to the toes of my shiny high-heeled boots is agonizing. My ass is saying “Yes sir!” and I don’t trust my mouth to say anything appropriate, so I keep it shut and just let him finish his extravagant visual sweep of my impossibly tight sweater dress.
I feel naked right now and he knows it, and it makes me want to slap him. And it makes me want to strip him naked and oil us both up so I can slide all over him or something. But I also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right about me being attracted to him.
It’s complicated.
“Took you long enough to disembark” is what he grumbles when he’s finally done eye-banging me.
“I had to help a little old lady find her connecting flight,” I tell him.
“Well, you didn’t have to.” There’s a glint in his tea brown eyes—an evil sexy Christmas elf glint—as he reaches for my overnight bag. I allow him to take it from me, and the touch of his fingers on
