Page 5 of Say Merry Christmas, Boss

It was…alluring, in the best way. Like she was a damn siren calling me out to sea.

“I’m sorry,” I began, “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

She snorted and doubled over, waving her hands in front of her face.

“No, no,” she hiccuped, “I get it.”

“You do?” Was Ithatobvious?

“You don’t like Christmas very much, do you?” She laughed into the back of her hand when she finally stepped closer.

“It’s not that,” I hesitated, because it was that, “okay, I don’t hate the holidays.”

“But you don’t like them, either?” She prompted.

I couldn’t argue with her, I just didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with anymore, since Garrett moved away, and our parents lived on a different continent.

I shrugged, “I don’t really see the point.”

“The point in celebrating?” She asked, voice raising an octave.

“All of it, I guess.”

I wanted out of this conversation, I was bound to make a bigger mess of it, and then what? She would go running back to Becks informing her of my ineptitude at conversation. I ran a hand down my face, rubbing at my neatly trimmed stubble. I was in way over my head.

“Do you,” Ash’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, “maybe want to get out of here?”

“With you?” I asked, surprise must have been written on my face, because she giggled.

“Yes, with me.”

I nodded, because I was suddenly too hot in this place, and I desperately wanted her alone.

“Let me grab my bag,” she put her hand on my elbow and I swear a spark lit up my insides, “meet me at the entrance in five?”

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, “yeah, sure.”

She had a bag slung over her shoulder and a grin on her face when she finally found me standing outside.

“Did you drive?” She asked, pointing to the sparse parking lot.

“I did, yes.”

“Well, Boss, which one’s yours?” She started toward the few cars in the lot, most people walked from the office building, or took a car here.

I twirled my key ring round my finger and nodded toward my baby. She looked back at me with a wink when she spotted my cherry red ‘67 Chevelle.

“Nice car,Peacock.” She enunciated my nickname, teasing me.

“Thanks,” I said, “are you really going to get into a practical strangers car?”

“You’re my boss, I doubt you’d try to murder me. But sure, let’s play that scenario out.” Her blue eyes rolled, and I wanted to swat her ass for it. “Are you going to kill me, Boss?”

“You might be the one killing me,” I joked half-heartedly.

She laughed and threw open the passenger door once I clicked the locks, “I want to show you something.”

“I’m driving,” I scoffed, “wouldn’t I be the one showing you something?”

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