by Alina Jacobs
Holly: You asked Walker, didn't you?
Owen: How did you know?
Holly: Christmas savant.
Holly: And Walker told me. He also wants me to bring fun and Christmas cheer to your office. And the dog daycare?
Owen: Right.
Holly: Want to meet tomorrow?
Owen: Fine.
I wanted to meet right now. If my office wasn’t all glass, I would fuck her here. But she had run off last night. I'd better be patient. I could do that. I was successful because I remained cold and rational when everyone else was freaking out. When Bitcoin tanked and everyone including Walker was telling me to stop investing in it, I had poured more money in. And it had paid off.
But it didn't seem as if Holly was all that impressed by my business prowess.
The thought that I would see Holly again soon was enough to get me through the rest of the day. After a contentious conference call with Svensson PharmaTech, my day was over. I clipped on Rudolph's harness. I needed to buy him one that wasn't so Christmassy. But Holly had bought it, so maybe I would keep it.
Unfortunately, I couldn't see to that tonight. I had drinks scheduled with my siblings. Ever since Belle had returned last year, we had tried to get together more often. My youngest two brothers were in college still, but Jonathan, Jack, and Belle were already at the bar.
“They said we could sit outside in the courtyard,” Belle said, giving me a hug.
The waiter looked at us nervously. “It's cold outside.”
Belle shrugged. She was wearing a sleeveless silk top. “The cold never bothered me anyway. Besides, the dogs can run around.”
Jack's husky, Milo, promptly picked up Rudolph by the scruff of the neck and took him outside. There was frost on the metal café furniture in the small courtyard. People gaped at us through the windows.
“Owen has a girlfriend,” Jonathan blurted out as soon as we were seated.
“It better not be Sloane,” Jack said.
The server, bundled up in a puffy coat, brought out a tray of whisky. “I warmed it up,” he said, steam rising from the cups.
“Cheers!” Belle said, clinking glasses.
“So did Mom tell you about Owen's girlfriend?” Jack asked Jonathan.
Jonathan looked askance. “She showed up at my office.”
“Dad showed up at my office too,” I growled.
“They still want grandchildren,” Belle said, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink. “I guess they've given up on you, Jack.”
“Even if I had a kid, I wouldn't let her see it,” Jack said, scowling at his drink.
“So if it's not Sloane, who's your girlfriend?” Belle asked me. “It better not be one of the contestants. I saw you flirting with Holly ineffectively.”
“It was effective,” I bragged. “She's showed up at my apartment several evenings this week.”
Belle sighed and sipped her drink.
“You can't date a contestant. You're a judge. As soon as you do something dumb and break her heart, she's going to turn around and sue the production company. Stay away from Holly.”
“But I have her working with me to help win the TechBiz contest,” I countered.
Belle was appalled. “Well then, seriously, don't start anything with her. You're on thin ice,” she warned. “This is a bad idea.”
I knew it was a bad idea. But I couldn't stay away from Holly.
35
Holly
I was giddy about seeing Owen the next day.
“What should I wear?” I asked Morticia. I was going to meet him in his office, so it wasn't like we were going to have some sort of torrid affair in the middle of the afternoon.
“Something that makes you look like you aren't there for a booty call.”
I chose a red-and-black pencil skirt, a flowy black top, and a chunky gold necklace with a snowflake pattern. I put my hair up in a bun. Black heels finished the look.
“Do I look like a professional woman?” I asked.
“You look more like Santa's little helper, but sure,” Morticia said, reaching down my shirt to tighten the bra straps and hike my boobs up.
I had my laptop and my Christmas-themed notebook. The pages were decorated with little Christmas scenes, and it came with several pages of stickers because secretly I'm a twelve-year-old girl. Still, I was nervous as I took the elevator down to the Quantum Cyber offices. I wasn't sure where Owen and I stood.
With all of Owen's complaining about not being at the top of the TechBiz list, when I stepped off the elevator to the company's office, it looked like the headquarters of a successful tech company to me. All the girls wore leggings, boots, and flowy tunic tops. The men were high-end casual in jeans and three-hundred-dollar T-shirts.
“I'm here for a meeting with Owen,” I said after greeting the receptionist. She was wearing a reindeer headband that jingled when she smiled at me.
“Just a moment,” she said.
While I waited, I looked around. The whole headquarters was white marble and glass with blue accents. It was like an abstract winter wonderland. There was a huge atrium that opened up to five stories. There were actual trees inside basking in the winter sun that streamed in from the huge expanse of glass.
“These towers are like another world,” I said.
“I know, right?” the receptionist said as she directed me to the elevator. “I hear you’re here to help us decorate. Can I request those big hanging snowflakes? I want a winter fairy-tale land!”
“Absolutely!”
Owen was seated behind a huge desk in his office. The wall of windows behind him framed him against the winter sky. He looked up at me and smiled imperceptibly.
“Come in, Holly,” he said, standing up. Was it going to be a professional greeting?
Owen wrapped me in his arms and kissed me, his tongue claiming my mouth. Okay, not professional.
“Aren't people going to see in?” I croaked.
“No. Walker's out. My secretary and her wife are taking their dog to a therapy appointment. I had my schedule cleared for you. We're alone.” He leaned down again, tipping my head back to kiss me as his hands roamed over my back and down to cup my ass.
“Though there is a bit too much glass to fuck you on my desk,” he whispered against my mouth.
This was a different Owen than the one I had been dealing with previously, the one who baked cookies and played with his puppy. This Owen Frost was all business. And it seemed that he had zeroed in on one purpose today—me.
“I guess we should talk about the festivities,” I said, a little breathless after he released me.
He gestured wordlessly to the chair opposite his desk. But instead of sitting across from me, he sat on the edge of the desk.
“Trying to get a good view down my blouse?” I joked, shifting in my seat.
“Maybe,” he said, his deep voice rolling around the room.
I shivered slightly.
“Cold?”
“Hot.”
“Am I making you nervous?”
“You're making me horny,” I muttered.
Owen's smirk widened. He leaned over to kiss me, his hand drifting down to cup my breasts. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse, and his hand pushed inside my bra, his touch making the nipple erect. I moaned softly as his hand drifted down. I widened my legs slightly.
“This pencil skirt is a little tight,” I said, whimpering slightly and straining against him.
He leaned back, looking slightly smug at the expression on my face.
“What the—”
“You can't open your present before Christmas.”
“You're not going to make me wait until Christmas?” I said, aghast. “I think I'll combust.”
“It's winter,” he said. “I think you'll be fine.”
He wanted to play hard to get? Fine.
“I guess we should go over my plans for your Christmas festivities to help increase your company's ranking,” I told him, buttonin
g up my blouse. “Can I plug my laptop in somewhere so you can see my screen?”
Owen's eyes narrowed slightly.
“What?” I said in pretend innocence. “I came here to have a professional meeting. I don't know what you were thinking was going to happen.”
“Give me the laptop,” he said, voice gravelly. He pressed some buttons, and then what was on my screen magically appeared on the large TV mounted on the wall.
“Magic!” I patted his very firm buttocks. “You're not just a pretty face after all.”
I gestured to the screen. “So here's the rankings. Your company pays the best and was voted as highly cutting-edge and pretty well organized. But oh look, you got a frowny face for being cool and unapproachable and not having a fun workplace culture.”
“Such a racket,” Owen complained.
“This is a good place to be. You have a nice cake with good crumb integrity and flavorful fillings. You just need a little frosting. Fortunately for you, I love decorating and throwing parties. So here's what we're going to do. We're not just having a holiday party. It's going to be a full-blown winter festival.”
“I don’t—”
“Shhh. Trust Holly. We're going to have all your employees showcase what they've been working on all year. Invite the TechBiz selection committee, and boom, one-stop shop to show how awesome you are. Time it just when they send out all those surveys to the employees,” I said, gesturing with excitement. “Also, because people think you're a sociopathic grinch, we'll have an event that makes you seem personable, warm, and caring.”
“I'm not warm.”
“You aren't,” I agreed, “though sometimes you make me really hot.”
There was that slight smirk again.
“Since you're the self-proclaimed prince of winter, we're going to test that out,” I told him. “All your employees love dogs and animals. We're going to make you the star of a little fundraiser. I think I can make it go viral too. I'll have to see how much your employees pimp it out on social media.”
“What do I have to do?” he asked.
“Now that is a surprise. But don't worry, it's going to be epic.”
“I’m a little worried. I'm also a little worried that the winter festival won't be fun enough. You said that a holiday party should have booze.”
“The actual booze-soaked holiday party is what's happening with The Great Christmas Bake-Off,” I explained. “We're having it in the main lobby, which I've poured my heart and soul into decorating. There will be themed cocktails, desserts, and other snacks. Everyone loves it when their boss pays for food and alcohol.”
Owen scowled.
“I know you hate Christmas,” I said, exasperated, “but I'm trying to help you here.”
“It's not that,” he said. “I just hate that Sloane will be there.” He grabbed my hands. “I hope you don't think there was ever anything between her and me.”
“She was sucking your face in the hallway, but you’re a big boy, and lord knows I've made questionable decisions.”
“The only woman I ever want is you.” Owen said then crushed his mouth to mine.
36
Owen
Kissing Holly was like drinking hot chocolate: smooth, creamy, filling and warming my insides. I wanted to steal her away to a cabin somewhere and make love to her as the snow fell softly outside and a fire roared in the hearth. Just the two of us, together.
“So you're okay with the plans?” she said softly.
Sex in a cabin? Absolutely. But…
“Right, the winter festival. Yes, that sounds fine.”
“I guess I'd better go get started then,” she said.
I pulled Holly into another kiss. She tasted like gingerbread and spices.
“We could just go away,” I offered.
“I have the bake-off tomorrow. We're supposed to go shopping,” she whispered against my mouth.
“You could skip it,” I replied. “Quit the bake-off. We'll go to a chalet in Switzerland.”
She giggled. “You just don't want to judge anymore!” She squeezed my arm. “Besides, I need to work on helping you win that TechBiz contest. It's important.”
“I suppose,” I said, pulling her in for another kiss, reveling in the way she melted against me.
“Also, um—” She looked down.
I pulled her chin up. “What?”
“I think I need your credit card again.” She smiled sheepishly.
I pulled it out and handed it to her.
“It's okay to use this one? It's not maxed out?” she said, inspecting it.
I shrugged. “It doesn't have a limit. It also has some sort of concierge service attached. I never use it, but it's part of the monthly fee. You should try it out so I get my money's worth.”
Holly looked slightly shocked. I leaned down and pressed my mouth to hers.
“I could do this all day,” I murmured against her lips, my hands caressing her curves.
“I can't,” she said, smiling, though she wasn't actively trying to leave.
“Stop by tonight,” I told her, kissing her once more.
“I'll see where I'm at. I want to do a good job! I have standards to uphold.”
I'd scheduled a lunch meeting with the C-suite executive team.
Beck, Walker's brother and the chief financial officer of Quantum Cyber, was back from our Boston office. He pointed to the spreadsheet up on the screen.
“Why in the world did someone spend over one hundred thousand dollars on Christmas decorations?”
“It's for the TechBiz contest,” Walker explained, taking one of the sandwiches from the platter.
“That thing?” Beck sneered. “I thought with making the investment into the gene therapy data algorithms, we wouldn't have to compete so much for talent.”
“We still need to,” I told him.
“But Christmas decorations?” Beck said, clearly scandalized. “When have we ever decorated for Christmas?”
“We do now,” I said coldly. “Get into the Christmas spirit.”
Beck stared at me with his mouth half open. “Who are you?”
“Owen found a girlfriend. One of the bake-off contestants,” Walker said. “He's a changed man.”
“So that's why you decided to be a judge,” Beck said thoughtfully. “Maybe I'll do it next year.”
“She lets him eat her Christmas cookies and everything,” Walker said.
“That's not appropriate talk for a workplace environment,” I growled.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Owen!” Walker exclaimed, grabbing his chest and pretending to be scandalized. “I meant she makes you baked goods.”
“You are eating cookies now?” Beck asked, shaking his head. “I wasn't even in Boston for two weeks, and it's like the world is completely different.”
Later that evening, after a long day of meetings, meetings, and more meetings, I went up to my condo. I was going to change into workout clothes then take Rudolph for a run. Over the last two weeks, the puppy had grown. He also was a ball of energy that had been cooped up in my office all day. I was secretly hoping Holly would be there waiting for me. But while there was a woman waiting for me when I stepped off the elevator, it wasn't Holly.
“Owen,” Amber said. She was dressed in an even sexier elf costume than when she'd ambushed me in the lobby a few nights ago. “I made you some cookies.” She shoved a plate at me.
“Please go back upstairs,” I said, ignoring the plate and making a mental note to tell Dana to keep the contestants out of my private area. But then I thought about Holly. I needed her to be able to come and go as she pleased.
“I know you love family, and I do too!” Amber launched herself at me, clinging to my suit jacket. Rudolph barked as I entered the code to unlock my door. “We'd be perfect together.”
“Find someone else,” I told her, prying her fingers off me. “I'm not interested.”
Amber started dramatically sobbing. I shut the door in her face. I really wi
shed it had been Holly instead.
I texted her while I changed clothes.
Owen: Your sister was up here.
Holly: Stepsister.
Holly: And here I was thinking you had texted me something exciting, like a naughty pic.
Owen: You already saw me naked.
Holly: Partially. I didn't get the best bits.
A naughty picture? Usually I would never be so reckless, but with Holly, all I wanted was her. Since I was changing anyway, I ran downstairs and pulled one of the sugar cookies she had made out of the container. It was shaped like a Santa hat. I framed the shot as best I could and sent her the picture, holding my breath as I finished dressing.
Her response came as I left the condo.
Holly: I think you need a bigger cookie.
37
Holly
“Good morning, and welcome to another episode of The Great Christmas Bake-Off. This show exists because of the fans who tune in for every episode. We love fan participation, which is why today's episode is the fan-favorite challenge. Fans from around the world have voted on what dessert they'd like each contestant to cook. Contestants, open your envelopes and see what you're going to be making today, then turn on your ovens, and let's get baking!”
My oven had been on all night. The picture Owen had sent me had made sure of that. I mean, I knew his Christmas package was big, but damn. I didn't think I was going to be able to concentrate. But I needed to. It didn't help that I was wearing a marginally too-sexy outfit. To engage my fans, I'd had them vote on what I should wear for the episode. Unfortunately, I’d made the mistake of not trying the clothes on before putting them up for a vote. This one was once again way too snug—another casualty of my stress eating problem.
It was a sexy nutcracker outfit with thigh-high black boots. I had thought it would be fine because it was a flared skirt with a military-style jacket. What I’d failed to account for was the deep V-neckline and the fact that I couldn't button the top buttons on the jacket. My boobs were swollen from all the salty food and sugar and alcohol I'd been consuming. All I could think about when putting on the outfit was Owen taking it off me.