Page 27 of Harley's Hex

There was a knock at the door, and Sandy was thankful for the reprieve. “Everything okay in here?” Mace asked, ducking his head into the office.

“I’m not doing a news story,” Nick insisted.

“Come on, man,” Mace griped. “It will be good for the club, and as the treasurer, you should be all about bringing in more people to make a few extra dollars. Do it for me, and I promise that I won’t ask you any favors for the rest of the year.” Sandy couldn’t help her giggle, wondering if Nick would pick up on the fact that the end of the year was in two short weeks.

“You’re so generous,” Nick grumbled. “I really don’t have a say in this, do I?” he asked.

“Nope,” Mace said, “just do the damn interview, Nick. Take Ms. Cove to dinner and lie your ass off. I don’t care what you come up with as long as you don’t lead with the fact that you hate Christmas.” Mace didn’t wait for Nick to respond. He turned and walked out of his office, not giving poor Santa a chance to resist.

“I take it he’s the boss of you?” Sandy whispered when Mace shut the door.

“Yeah, he’s the club’s Prez and he’s bossy as hell.” He pulled the red velvet pants down his muscular thighs, revealing more tattoos, and Sandy nearly swallowed her tongue.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked.

“Changing back into my clothes so that I can take you to dinner and lie my ass off,” he explained. Her eyes had settled onthe bulge in his boxer briefs, and he chuckled. “That is, if you can take your eyes off my cock. If you have other plans in mind, let’s hear them.” Sandy had so many ideas running through her head at the moment, but none of them would end up with her getting the story that she needed.

“Nope,” she lied, “dinner sounds good to me.” She turned to leave the office, giving Nick some privacy to finish changing because if she stayed in the small room with him, she’d forfeit dinner and most likely lose her job—and she couldn’t let any of that happen over one hot Santa.