Page 24 of 27 Kisses

“No. I’m taking off from now until Christmas.”

“You’re taking off work.” I tap the table for emphasis. “For the next eleven days. Are you serious about this?”

“Absolutely. Otherwise, she’ll rearrange my entire house. Plus, we have to work on this Christmas stuff, right?”

I grin, not caring who sees. Ramon catches my gaze, and I nod. “I have to get back to work, but you deserve a reward. Advent kiss number fourteen.”

“Where and when?”

“Pantry in twenty minutes. Get those lips ready for kissing.”

Seven

GARRETT

Ten Days until Christmas

Nat followsme into my office. Jonah is right behind her, but she waves him off. After my announcement, work stopped, and now most of my employees are hovering outside my office.

She closes the door. “You’re taking time off?”

Not by choice. But I don’t mention that as I sit behind my desk. “I’ll be available by phone, Nat.”

She steps around the TARDIS and stands in front of me with a frown. “You never take time off during the holidays. Actually, you never take time off at all.”

Is Nat worried about me or the wedding this weekend? “If this is about the Whovian wedding?—”

“It isn’t.”

I shrug off her concerns. “Then what’s the problem. You’re always telling me I work too much. You should be happy.”

“No, boss. You’re the one who should be happy. But you’re not.”

I straighten things on my desk. Not that they’re messy, but I need to do something with my hands. “I’m…” But saying thewords aloud makes it too real. “My parents are in town. So, we’re having a family Christmas at my house. I need to get ready.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re hosting Christmas? In your ‘sanctuary?’” she asks, using air quotes.

I ignore her. And shuffle papers that don’t need shuffling while clicking on my keyboard for no goddamn reason. It’ll take the better part of the morning to get things done before I can leave for two weeks. The thought of not being here is enough to make me panic all over again, so I focus on other things. Breathing. And Nat’s calculating look.

“Who’s all going to be there?” She sits in the chair, and I groan.

“None of your business. Go away.”

“Don’t be like that.” The concerned look in her eyes is gone. Replaced with amusement. That might be worse. “Will the yummy prince and his Daddy be there?”

I stare at her. “What?”

She grins. “Oops. I mean Isaac. And cute little Simon.”

“What? Are you—” I shake my head. Not going there. “None of that is true.”

“Simon isn’t cute?”

I ignore her as I jab at my keyboard. The words I’m typing don’t make sense, but I can rewrite the email before I send it.

“Fine,” she says with a laugh. “Ignore me. But Isaac is a Daddy. I’ve seen them at Christy’s—a girl has to eat, you know. And speaking of Christy’s and yummy men…” Her voice trails off with a wistful sigh.

My head snaps up. “What?”