Page 11 of Coming for Her Grumpy Boss (Coming For Christmas #3)

chapter

eleven

Ford

Mia sleeps and I stay right there with her nestled against my chest. She said she loves me too. I kind of ambushed her with this fake relationship, oh, and by the way, I want you and love you. Maybe she hasn’t had time to properly think about everything like I have.

“I can hear you thinking inside my dreams,” she says.

“Pretty sure that means you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. But I realized that with all the Natasha drama and the subsequent migraine, you never told me what happened to your family. Are they really not coming?” she asks.

“They’re not coming. All of it was a ruse,” I say.

“I’m so confused,” she admits.

“Here, maybe this will help.” I pull out my phone and hit the call button.

He picks up on the first ring. “Happy Christmas, you two.”

“You told my family not to come.”

“I told your family,” he says, maddeningly calm, “that you were finally doing something brave and they could express their love by not interrupting.”

“Wait, does that mean there was never a reason for the fake relationship?”

“You manipulated the entire plan?” Mia asks.

“Mia, darling, you look gorgeous,” Thorne coos.

“You can’t even see her, you asshat. This isn’t a video call,” I say.

“I can just tell she’s glowing,” Thorne says.

“You can keep your eyes and your compliments to yourself from now on,” I grit.

“Finally staking your claim, are you?” Thorne asks. “You can thank me whenever you’re ready. I enjoy fruit baskets, but prefer chocolate.”

Mia giggles.

“You tricked us,” I say.

“I did. But you won’t be cross with me for too long. Especially since it sounds like the two of you are cozied up next to each other. I’m like an angel of Christmas.”

Mis snorts. “More like a ginger, freckled agent of chaos.”

Thorne laughs. “I’ll take that too. Now, go acknowledge that you’re deliriously in love and stop dragging me into it. Kiss under the mistletoe. Do naughty things with sprinkles. Send photos.”

“I’m hanging up,” I say.

“Send me a picture of the tree, at least. I was so busy planning your present, I haven’t even decorated for myself.”

“Serves you right,” I say. “Merry Christmas, Thorne.” Then I end the call, dropping the phone on the bed.

Mia is trying very hard not to laugh.

“He’s an ass,” I say.

“Would it help,” she says carefully, “if I said I’m… grateful?”

“Grateful,” I repeat.

“Yes. Grateful. I packed for hand-to-hand combat with your relatives,” she says.

“Conversation safe word locked and loaded. But between everything that’s happened between us, I—” She takes a breath, the brave kind.

“I never had any indication that you had feelings for me. I’ve been trying to forget my own because the thought of quitting, of actually walking away from you, well, that makes me feel as if I can’t breathe. ”

“Despite the fact that you have a variety of written resignation letters sitting on your hard drive?” I ask.

“You weren’t supposed to see those.”

“Obviously.”

“The two of us were foolish enough to waste time circling each other and denying ourselves what we really wanted. I don’t want to waste any more time,” she says.

“I don’t either.”

I kiss her then, gently, because sometimes those headaches hang on.

Her stomach growls loudly, then mine responds in kind.

“We should fuel up and hydrate before we go another round,” she says.

“Oh? Are you expecting a repeat performance?” I ask.

“Most definitely. You want to keep earning those gold stars.”

“Very true.”

We walk back out into the living area, and she pulls me over to the Christmas tree.

She hands me her phone. “We need proper documentation.”

I take a few selfies of us, kissing and then smiling.

Then I watch as the love of my life sends them to her sister.

ME: Merry Christmas, Esme!

ESME: You did not!

ESME: OMG!

ESME: I need all the details.

ME: He’s pierced.

ME: Everywhere.

Her phone starts to ring, but she simply tosses it onto the sofa.

“Did you actually just tell your sister about my dick?”

“Sisters don’t have secrets. It’s okay. Just don’t think about it.”

“I don’t think that is possible. How am I supposed to face her again?”

“Would it help if I told you something about Abel Cartwright’s junk?”

I laugh. “No, no, it would not. We’ll just leave it at that.” I pull her into a hug. “I do have one very important question.”

“What’s that?”

“Would you really give me a kidney?”

She shrugs. “I’ve given you my heart. A kidney seems way less invasive.”

***

I hope you loved Ford and Mia’s story. Please consider leaving me a review . Thorne is getting his own story! You can pre-order it here .

If you missed Esme’s book, you can grab it here: Ready, Willing and Abel .

Keep scrolling for an excerpt from Grumpy Santa , another fun Christmas romance between a boss and his assistant.