Page 3 of Falling for Mr. Wright

She shook her head, caught the ball, and overhanded it back.

“Did he have you buy her flowers for no reason?” He put a little muscle into his toss.

She caught it. “Not a single stem.”

“Three strikes, Sarah. I think I’m going to call you out on this one.”

“Enough with your sports metaphor. Obviously, you have a point. Let’s hear it.”

He shrugged. “It’s more like a question: Could you be seeing something between Logan and Mary Beth that’s not there?”

She set the baseball down on his desk and snatched the Santa hat, waving it in the air. “Maybe nothing has happened between them yet, but something certainly could because ofthis.” Earlier this morning, Logan had reached into the hat, pulled out a red slip, and lit up like a Christmas tree. “Logan’s her Secret Santa.”

“Oh no,” Ryan deadpanned. “Not that.”

“Stop picking on me. IknewI shouldn’t have put her name in until after Logan picked.” She slumped back into the seat again. “I’ve basically thrown them together.”

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“No, I’m not.” She shook her head. “You know what usually happens when one attractive single gets another for Secret Santa. I don’t have enough fingers to count all of the holiday hookups that have happened in the last two years because of this stupid hat.”

“I’venever hooked up.”

“Really?” She found that hard to believe. Ryan was definitely hookup material. Half of the floor had a crush on him.

“Nope. I haven’t been so lucky.” He grabbed the hat and shoved his hand in, pulling out a red slip. “And my streak continues.”

“Who’d you get?”

“Can’t tell.”

“It’s a female.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “So now you have psychic powers?”

“No.I know because men’s names are on green slips and women’s on red.” She blew out an aggravated breath, hoping it wasn’t Vanessa from marketing. The perky executive had gotten into the habit of stopping by their lunch table every day to talk to Ryan, sometimes pulling up a chair and joining them. Sarah wasn’t about to lose her lunch partner to Secret Santa flirting. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“It’s a secret.” He walked over and handed the hat back. “Look, I can’t help you with Logan. He doesn’t talk about his love life. I couldn’t even tell you the name of the last woman he took to dinner.”

Sarah’s chest tightened, her shoulders slumped. She glanced down at the stupid hat in her hands, reality hitting her hard. Ryan wasn’t going to help her. Her Christmas wish was going to someone else.

Her body tensed at an image of Logan and Mary Beth kissing underneath mistletoe. She gripped the Santa hat with both hands, ready to rip it apart.

Oh, hell no. She released her tight hold. She was not going to lose Logan to a woman who flaunted her double-D cups in questionable office attire. Yes, it was unfortunate that Logan had gotten Mary Beth and not her for his Secret Santa, but she had a plan, dammit. And it hinged on Ryan.

She took a deep breath and started her pitch. “Maybe you don’t know who he’s seeing, but youcanoffer some insight. You’ve been best friends forever—you must know things about him that could help me. For example, is he a morning or night person? What’s his go-to TV show? What’s his spirit animal? What’s his favorite comfort food on a rainy day? Does he crawl into warm flannel or soft silk sheets? Does he like his kisses hot and wild, or does he prefer to take it slow and sensual?”

Ryan stilled, his eyes going dark as he scowled. “I don’t know the answers toanyof those questions, and definitely not the last two.”

Sarah reached over and picked up the baseball again, holding it up. She was going to have to speak in terms Ryan could relate to. “I have a game plan, but to successfully execute it, I need to have a coach on the sidelines helping me with my plays. You, Mr. Wright, are the right man for the job—theonlyman. What do you say? Will you join Team Sargan?”

“Team Sargan,” he repeated, a line forming between his eyebrows.

“You know. Logan’s and my name combined—Sargan.”

“Right.” He slid his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know.”

“Think about it, and as a token of my appreciation, I could do something for you,” she offered, glancing down at her watch. She should probably head back to her desk.

---