Page 20 of Bossing My Holiday
“Tristan.”
I take off my coat and sweater, and one of them holds them. I can’t tell which. My vision is still all fuzzy, but the lack of layers is helping to clear it.
“Good girl.”
I bite my lip. Holy eight dancing reindeer, what is he doing to me? It’s like he’s putting me under some sort of hypnotic spell. And who is rubbing my back? Braxton, right. That feels really good.
I stare straight ahead, watching a mom make silly faces with her daughter to keep her entertained. We shuffle in line,walking through a tunnel of sorts, and cold air hits me in the best possible of ways.
It’s as if I’m coming to only to realize I have Tristan in front of me, holding my hand, and Braxton behind me, his arm around my waist. Holy crap. What did I say to them?
“Wow, that’s never happened to me before like that. I’m so sorry I panicked like that. It was unprofessional.”
“Don’t be,” Braxton says. “Like I said, it was oddly adorable.”
“Everything we’re doing is unprofessional, so put that out of your mind,” Tristan agrees. “You’re not my assistant this week, you’re my beautiful girlfriend, and it’s okay to be a bit panicked over that. Are you better now?”
I run my hands over my face and push them away so they’re not touching me anymore as we get toward the plane. “I think so. At least mostly.”
“Good evening, Mr. Ouest, Mr. Hicks, and Miss Dobbs. We’re so happy to have you flying with us tonight,” the flight attendant greets us. “Let me show you to your seats and help you get settled. Can I offer you something to drink before takeoff?”
Braxton cups my face. “Do you want alcohol or tea?”
I smile at him as he takes my backpack and purse and sets them on my seat in my cabin since we’re in first class. “Whatever you’re having.”
He grins and answers her without taking his eyes off me. “The three of us will have champagne.” He kisses my forehead.
I glance up at him now that the panic has broken, and I’m breathing normally again. “How did you both do that? I was freaking out. How did you stop it?”
He grins, and I catch a hint of those dimples I’m becoming a little obsessed with. “Sweet, soft Waverly, we have a few tricks you have yet to see.” He winks at me.
“So I’m learning.”
Tristan tells the attendant that we’re all set and shows me around my sleeping cabin, going over what buttons to press to turn it into a bed. “You need dinner,” he says as I take my seat and look out the window. He’s right across the aisle from me, and despite the fact that there’s a curtain to separate us, it still feels intimate. “They’ll serve us after takeoff.”
“Okay.”
“You okay?” he checks.
I laugh. “Not even a little.”
With his eyes on me and with Braxton right beside me, he leans in and kisses my cheek. It makes my breath hitch and my body sway again.
“What are you doing?”
“Practicing,” he says, his voice dropping. “You’re going to have to get used to that.”
“Are you affectionate with your girlfriends?”
For some reason, I can’t picture it.
“We’ll find out,” he tells me and steps into his cabin.
What have I gotten myself into?
7
TRISTAN
