by Lindsey Hart
“Wine or vinegar, pickles or cucumbers, whatever I am, whatever I have, it’s yours. This time I’m here, Ambi. I’m all in. I promise that I’m here for good and that I’ll never stop fighting for you. I love you. I never stopped. Will you give me a chance? I promise this time, I’ll get it right.”
She sighed and put her hand to her chin like she had to think about her answer. Trey hesitated. He’d reached her desk and he was only a couple feet from the bookcase. She couldn’t go anywhere but forward. It was a good metaphor for life. She didn’t want to go back. She wanted to look to the future. To a good future. To a future with the man she loved. To a future with Trey.
She’d never actually allowed herself to hope for it or think about it over the years. She’d always thought about him in safe terms. Past tense. Not future or present tense.
“I never stopped either,” she admitted. She had to grin when she watched Trey’s lips part. He let out a sigh of relief that he obviously couldn’t contain. “I wanted to. I wanted to stop loving you. I really tried, but like a bad STD, you stuck around.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that one. You just upped your game from turd to something even viler.”
This time, she laughed. “Oh, god, Trey. What I’m trying to say is that I couldn’t purge you out. I couldn’t, and maybe it was for a good reason. Maybe the reason was that I was never supposed to. I’m going to stop trying to get you out. So, if you want to keep trying to get in, I’m open to it.”
“That’s a really weird thing to say. I’m not sure if it’s outright sexual or if I’m just imagining some really good things right now.”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “It wasn’t supposed to be, but I can see how it could come across like that…”
“Oh really?” Trey finally crossed the distance from the desk to the bookshelf and in another second, he reached out. He didn’t manhandle her into his arms. Just held out his hand and let her curl her small fingers around his much larger ones.
“Really,” she said breathlessly.
“We are going to have a really, really good future. Starting right now.”
“Even if you’re vinegar and I’m wine?”
“Especially if I’m vinegar and you’re wine.”
“Even if you’re a turd?”
“Even if I’m a turd. I promise to be less turd like going forward from this moment.”
“That’s good,” Ambi breathed since Trey opened his arms and tugged her gently into them.
She went the rest of the way until she was pressed up against his chest, her hand still in his, the other resting right above his heart. It was beating. Hard. Kind of like hers was. All messed up and all over the place. She was in that. She was in that wild, racing heartbeat. She inspired it. At least part of it. They were really doing this.
Trey sealed the deal by tipping her chin up gently. “Can this smelly turd give you a kiss?” he asked with a wide, wicked grin. Heat and desire burned in the depths of his eyes, but this time, this time she could see all the love swelling there too. He wasn’t hiding it anymore. He wasn’t shutting down or locking her out.
“No, but you can give me a kiss. Trey. The love of my life.”
“I think I can agree with that. Merry Christmas, Ambi, my love.”
“Merry Christmas.”
It was going to be. It was going to be a really, really good Christmas. Maybe the best ever. She was going to enjoy the hell out of every single second of it.
EPILOGUE
Trey
Sometimes things just made sense. Once in a while, everything turned out alright. Every now and then, happy endings really were a thing
Except they were so far from ending. Their story wasn’t over. It felt like it was just beginning, every single day that they woke up together. Every single night when they fell asleep together, wrapped up in each other. It was a new beginning. Another day in their forever ever after.
“Did you buy the turkey?” Ambi ran up to greet him the second he bustled through the front door. They now lived in a large, three-story antique house. It was over a hundred years old and even though it started out as an unlivable death trap, they’d brought it back to life over the years. It was now nearing completion. He couldn’t complain about it being a money pit. Ambi loved it too much and her love for it might have worn off on him just a little.
“Yes, yes I got the turkey.” He set down the overflowing grocery bags. “And the other hundred things on your list.”
Ambi twisted her hands in front of her and bit down nervously on her bottom lip. “It’s just that- well- this is the first Thanksgiving that we’ve actually hosted. Everyone is coming, even Marcella.”
“She always knew that we’d end up together. She’s baking a special cake just for our anniversary. I can’t wait to taste what flavor she’s invented now.” It just so happened that they’d been married on Thanksgiving three years ago. Of course, Marcella was there. Of course, she’d baked a cake just for them. Pumpkin chai spice. Of course, tasting it was like being ushered through the gates of heaven.
“Your dad and my mom though. God. I just hope that they don’t wind up hating each other. That would be really awkward for us to have to police between then. Maybe it’s a bad idea to have everyone over. Maybe-”
“It’s a great idea.” Trey stepped over the overflowing bags with the groceries spilling out onto the floor. He wrapped his arms around Ambi and she melted against him, some of her tension draining away. “And don’t worry about them, they’ll figure it out.”
“It’s just- don’t you think it’s weird? That they’re- together?”
He grinned down at his wife as he smoothed some of her raven black hair away from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “Nope. Not at all. They were in love from the minute we took them on that trip to Mexico.” Instead of going alone after Christmas, he and Dale had joined Ambi and her mom. It shocked everyone, his dad and her mom included, that there was a spark there. Two years later, Dale finally got brave enough to ask her out, and ever since, they’d been going pretty strong.
“This puts a lot of pressure on me. What if I screw up the turkey? What if I undercook it and end up poisoning everyone?”
“I think you’ll do just fine. Just ask Marcella’s opinion. She’ll be here in a couple of hours.”
Ambi let out a little screech of horror and began to gather up the groceries. Trey helped her carry everything to the kitchen and set it on the counter.
“Don’t worry. You can always blame anything that flops on me. Everyone knows I’m a terrible cook.”
“That’s not funny.” Ambi shot him a death glare.
“It’s a little funny.”
“So not.”
“Yeah, it kind of is.”
Ambi stuck her tongue out at him and began loading the fridge up with vegetables. He set out the dry goods, the box of stuffing, the cranberry sauce, the bag of potatoes, cans of corn. They’d have enough food to last a century.
“You know what isn’t funny?”
Ambi whirled. “I can only guess.”
“How much I love you.”
Her lips wobbled into a smile and she couldn’t hide the sheen in her eyes. She ducked her head, shaking it as she continued unpacking. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?” she quipped, but he could hear the smile in her voice, even if he couldn’t see her face.
“I think so. I got you to marry me, didn’t I?”
“Some days, I wonder why,” she remarked dryly as she slid a container of milk into the one open space still available in the overstuffed fridge.
“Because I’m amazing,” Trey deadpanned.
She turned, hands on her hips, but she couldn’t keep a straight face. She had to giggle. “Geez. And so humble too. How did I ever get so lucky?”
“Luck has nothing to do with it.” Trey sauntered over and pulled Ambi into his arms. He placed a searing kiss on her lips and for a minute, she forgot all about their stressful Thanksgiving
dinner that was still hours away and melted into him, kissing him back. He wanted to ask her if he could take her upstairs, or maybe just on the kitchen counter, but he knew better than to press his luck. “Like I said,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m just that awesome.”
“Okay, Mr. Awesome. How about peeling potatoes for me then?”
Trey released her, but when she turned, he gave her a gentle pat on her ass that had her turning and rolling her eyes at him.
“I’ll do whatever you command of me, my love. My darling. My incredible, amazing, beautiful, talented and perfect wife. I’ll even bend the knees right here right now if you ask me to.”
“Oh brother.” Ambi slid open the drawer and threw the peeler at him. He caught it easily. “Get peeling.”
“Okay. I really do love you, though, Ambi. Undercooked, overcooked, anycooked turkey and all.”
She rolled her eyes again, but when she turned, he knew she was still grinning. That was the way they went through life. Together. Sometimes annoying each other so much but loving the hell out of each other and laughing their way through it.
“I love you too, you cheeseball. Always.”
“Forever and always?”
“Yeah. Forever and always.”
Well. At least he’d graduated from anything that had to do with turds. Cheese was delicious. Exotic. Expensive. A definite improvement. He’d take it.
The End.
KISSED BY THE BOSS
BOOK DESCRIPTION
Drinks + Christmas Party + Lost eye contacts = Flaming Hot Kiss
Except I have no idea who was on the receiving end.
I didn't even see (extreme short-sightedness problems big time).
But it was definitely someone from the office.
New week, new day at work,
Annnnd my lips are still tingling whenever I think about it.
But it’s not like I can kiss every guy in the office,
And see who would turn out to be the charming prince of that night.
Not that I don’t already have enough on my plate as it is,
What with all the shooting glares my hotshot player of a boss keeps directing at me.
Why was he suddenly acting so out of character?
What was he so mad about?
Did I do something wrong?
Did I fax the wrong letter maybe?
Or clip his documents wrong?
CHAPTER 1
Callie
There were just some things in life that were better off not done. Office Christmas parties were near the top of Callie Canahan’s list. Unfortunately, her best friend, who was also her roommate, wasn’t of the same mindset.
“Come on! You can’t skip out. It will be fun!” Chantara stuck out a lip in a pretty pout. Everything Chantara did was pretty. She was the kind of woman who would look beautiful in a sack. Or a paper bag. Whatever people always talked about.
“Fun as in… super boring? I just started there. I don’t know anyone. I shouldn’t even have the right to come.”
“You’ve been there for over a month. That certainly qualifies you. Even if you didn’t work there, I could still bring you as my guest. Which would be far better than anyone I’ve brought in the past. Last year, Troy drank like sixteen free whiskeys and that was the end of the night for us. It’s lucky I didn’t get fired.”
“It was more than just the end of the night. You dumped him and left him in the cab outside the apartment and he’d lost his wallet, so the cab driver wouldn’t take him any further. He kept ringing the buzzer until I got the story out of you and went down and gave him twenty bucks.”
“Ugh, that was a bad night.”
“One of the worst.”
“Ha! Not nearly.” Chantara’s dark eyes glittered with amusement.
She gave a toss of thick black hair over her shoulders. She currently had on a matching pajama set, a pink tank and fuzzy pink bottoms with little bunnies all over them. They were absolutely adorable. But not nearly as adorable as Chantara looked in them. Callie was vaguely jealous. If she’d worn those pajamas, they would have made her look like a five-year-old girl. She didn’t have the lush curves that Chantara did. She was tall and also slightly on the stick-kind-of-body side.
Once, in high school, they’d been discussing body types, the whole apple and pear thing. She wasn’t either of those. More like celery. Or banana. Or… or carrot- a real thin, long one.
“You’re right. Not nearly. I remember a few nights back in college…”
“Don’t go there,” Chantara groaned.
“Then there was the night you got so drunk at that bar you were dancing on the rooftops of cars.”
“No! You are forbidden to talk about that!”
Callie giggle and it wasn’t long before she and Chantara dissolved into giggles. Chantara wiped a few tears from her cheeks.
“You know, I thought at twenty-seven we’d be with people and in real houses and not a dumpy apartment, still using each other for wingmen and company.”
“I’ll always use you as my wingman,” Callie said soberly. “And for company. Boyfriend or no boyfriend.”
“Didn’t you think though, that at this age you’d be married or something? Like, back in the day? When you were a teenager?”
Callie sighed. “I guess so, but now, twenty-seven seems really young. Aren’t they saying forty is the new twenty? And we have a long way to go before that.”
“Oh god, I hope so. I hope it goes slow. They also say men age like fine wine and women age like cheese.”
Callie snorted. “That is terrible! Who said that?”
“I can’t remember.”
“They should not be allowed to say things like that. Seriously. So awful!”
Chantara giggled again and swiped at her eyes one last time. She took a deep breath and Callie could tell by the focus in her best friend’s eyes that she hadn’t been completely distracted.
“You’re trying to change the subject here.”
“I really wasn’t. I was just protesting. I don’t want to go to the Christmas party. I don’t have anything to wear. It’s going to be boring. They’re always boring. Just crappy speeches about all this corporate stuff that I can’t stand. I have to listen to that and put up with it all day. I don’t want to hear it by night too.”
“But it’s free and last year, it might have been boring, but the food was soooo good.”
“It was so boring that your date got shit faced and nearly got you fired.”
“I didn’t almost get fired. Everyone knew that Troy drank too much and it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t even drunk. I had one drink. I could control myself. I wasn’t responsible for his actions. If he’d wrecked anything, now that might have been another story.”
“Good thing he wasn’t destructive then.”
“You’re telling me. I never could have got you the job you love so much.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “It’s not that I’m not glad for the job. I am. It beats getting out of retail. And god, did I hate the Christmas season. It was absolute murder. I thought if I had a degree, I would actually get to use it.”
“You might have if you had a degree in business.”
“Stop.” Callie got off the edge of Chantara’s bed. “I don’t want another lecture on how English degrees are useless. People get jobs in big corporations all the time with English degrees. Like in Communications and what not.”
“But those jobs are hard to get.”
“Well you don’t even need to have a business degree to get an admin job.”
“You don’t have to,” Chantara admitted. “But it definitely helps. And I’m not just any admin. I support one of our VP’s.”
“And I just get to support a Directing Manager. How boring.” Callie giggled despite herself.
“Matthew Hilbert isn’t just a DM. You’re damn lucky you’re his PA. The guy is a god. Or so I’ve heard. But he’s not my type.”
“I know. He’s too clean. Clean s
haved, short hair. He doesn’t look like your type, but he sure acts like it.”
“No!” Chantara jumped up. “Don’t say that.” She put her hands on her hips in mock anger. “It’s only because you’re my best friend that I’ll let you get away with saying horrible shit like that about the guys that I date. They don’t have the same reputation. I like bad boys, not players.”
“And Matt Hilbert is definitely as player as it gets. I see the emails that come in. On my first day he actually sat me down and had a talk about-”
“I know. You told me he said to discreetly get rid of the less than savory emails that come in from any of his female companions. And to screen the angry phone calls. Just the angry ones though. Oh god, I remember.”
Callie couldn’t help but let a little dreamy sigh escape. “It can’t be helped that he’s attractive. Very. Very. Attractive. But he’s not my type either. I don’t like players. I don’t like guys that bounce around from one girl to another. I don’t like guys for whom relationships does not mean anything. It’s gross. It’s just- distasteful. It really ruins the fact that he’s super handsome.”
“He’ll be at the Christmas party.”
“Oh, hell no…”
“You can’t even be tempted with good food? You were just saying how you wished you had someone cook for you. It’s Christmas. You probably aren’t going home, so come and get a decent meal at the Christmas party, if for no other reason.”
“Yes, but when I said that, I didn’t want to have to endure a shit load of speeches and boring presentations and corporate blah, blah, blah to get it.”
“I’ll lend you earplugs.”
“I think people would notice.” Callie rolled her eyes.
“Please!” Chantara pulled a puppy dog face. “Don’t make me go alone! I can’t endure it alone! I’ll look pathetic. People will try and drag me up to dance in those awkward, horrible tight little group things they do on the dance floor.”