A Very Merry Alpha Christmas: A Holiday Romance Box Set

by Logan Chance

  He blinks, rapidly. “You must work for Guru Girl.”

  I blow out an exasperated breath. “Did the extra wrinkles on my face or my non-stop ranting give it away?”

  He smiles. “You don’t have any wrinkles. You’re pretty flawless to be honest.”

  Is it hot in here? Asking for a friend.

  Play it cool, G. “Oh. Well, aren’t you self-redeeming.”

  “I try.” He smiles and something in his features changes. Becomes a bit warmer? The man sticks out his hand and offers a shake. His wrist dons a watch as sparkly as his eyes, complete with teeny-tiny diamonds around the face and banding making it look like freshly fallen snow sparkling under moonlight. It's got to be stupid expensive. Who is this guy?

  “Let’s start again, shall we?”

  “Ok. Sure.”

  “I’m Everest Snow.” I shake his hand. It’s warm and strong, and a real good grip, too. He clears his throat. “Annnnd you are?”

  “Oh.” I break myself from his hold and snap back to reality. “I’m Ginger Darling. And yes, I work for Meredith Taylor at Guru Girl. I’m her assistant, actually.” I feel a bit taller standing next to him now.

  His eyes sparkle impossibly brighter, but his smile turns fiercely menacing. It also turns me fiercely the hell on.

  “Do you really, now? Well, how about that. I never would have thought she’d hire someone like...you.”

  What the heck does that mean?

  I’m not gonna go lose my cool for this guy. I stand taller in my heels.

  “I do,” I tell him proudly.

  “And how does a girl all of...twenty years old?... land a job like that?”

  “Twenty-two, actually. Thank you.”

  “Didn’t answer my question, Darling.”

  “Well, I guess I must’ve had an impressive resume.”

  “I bet.” He smiles tight.

  What the hell does that mean?

  Shut up, Ginger. Turn around and shut your face-hole.

  Instead, I put my hand on my hip. “I happen to know a boatload about the cosmetics industry and even more importantly have a deep passion for all things beauty related. I live for this stuff. How dare you. You don't even know me.”

  His eyes do the magical little twinkling thing again. “Trust me when I say, you weren’t the one I was doubting.”

  “Nice save, Mr. Sparkle Pants, but I think I'll just wait in silence for the elevator from here on out, if you don't mind, sir.”

  His shoulder lifts and falls nonchalantly. “Just speaking the truth. That’s kind of my passion.”

  “Really? I would have guessed something more along the lines of standing in front of a camera while you get endless pictures snapped of you and your— ” I wave my hand up and down his tall frame. “Well, all of this goodness.”

  Everest laughs. “Thank you, but no. I prefer being on the other side of the camera, actually.”

  “So you take pictures? You’re a photographer? Is that why you’re here today? For the campaign?”

  Everest’s thick brows pull tight for a moment and then I try to keep track of how many brain cells I lose while he glosses his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

  Stay on planet Earth, Ginger. Keep it together, sister.

  “You ask a lot of questions, Ginger Darling.” He leans in, his good smelling suit wafting his delectable scent toward my face. It’s an instant turn on. I love a man who knows how to properly perfume himself. What the hell am I saying? But, it’s true. Couple that with his good looks, budding charm, and fabulous fashion sense, and I need to sound the alarm: Bitch down. Send help now.

  “Why are you pressing the button if it doesn’t help, Mr. Snow?” Our eyes meet in a brief challenge of wits. Everest jabs the button a couple more times. “Just being thorough, Miss Darling.”

  “I bet.” There. That felt nice, throwing his own words back at him. My high doesn’t last very long though, because the elevator doors suddenly ding and spread wide.

  We both rush inside, stumbling a bit as we catch our ride and then stupidly, really stupidly, fight to press our respective floor levels. Everest has the advantage because of his Adonis like height, but thankfully, I have cat-like reflexes. I press the button for the lobby and he presses the number two. I wonder why. That’s the legal department. What does he want to do there? He has to be a photographer. But why dodge the question earlier? That’s some serious bragging rights, not something to recoil away from. Color me intrigued. Oh, and really effing late.

  “Back off, Hercules. I was at the elevator first.” I jab the button, rapidly.

  He tugs on his thick locks. “I told you if it’s lit don’t press it again. You’ll only end up...” We suddenly whir to a halt. Everest groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...breaking it.”

  And then everything goes black.

  “Oops.”

  Emergency lights click on, leaving us in a pale-greyish light, surrounded by the mirror behind us and gold paneling.

  Now, I’m not a big fan of freaking the fuck out in times of emergencies or disasters. In fact, I’d like to think I’m a pretty good Girl Scout, but this sends me heaving. I mean, full on clutching the railing and praying for my life type of meltdown.

  And the prick laughs. “It will be back up and running soon. Calm down, Killer.”

  I can’t even form a comeback because I’m frozen with fear.

  He must notice, because he rushes to where I am and kneels down beside me.

  Yeah, I’m on the floor as I hug the railing above my head.

  His strong hand lands on my back, and he rubs soothing circle patterns across my spine.

  “I’m sorry,” he says in a hushed voice. “I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I didn’t know this was real.”

  “I just hate elevators,” I manage to squeak out. “Oh God, this is the worst birthday in the history of all birthdays.”

  “Not true,” Everest says, still rubbing my back, and then he sits next to me on the floor of the elevator. “You haven’t heard about my fifteenth birthday when I lost a game of truth or dare. I had to streak butt ass naked down my block in front of the girl of my dreams house—Nicola Whitney—only to have her laugh at me, right to my face.”

  I try to laugh but it sounds more like a donkey with asthma. “That’s pretty bad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I guess, jokes on her now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He seems so innocent when he says it. Does he honestly not know he’s hotter than the hood of a car in the middle of summertime?

  Scorching. Blazing. Hot liquid magma. This guy is a walking volcano on the verge of an eruption.

  And he has zero effing clue? Only adds to the hotness factor, in my opinion.

  “Well, I don’t know what you looked like in highschool, but I’ll confess to you in this horrible coffin of an elevator, since we might never see the light of day again, that you are by far the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I have seen some serious men in this place. I’m talking like . . .” My lips are suddenly locked by a thumb pressed firmly to my mouth.

  “You ramble when you get nervous.” He grins. “You know that?”

  I shake out of his hold. “I’m not nervous. I’m petrified.”

  Everest hums and then looks around the space. “Oh, see that?” There’s a piece of mistletoe hanging from the top of the elevator. Ha, what prankster put that there? Above people’s heads so even strangers who happen to be trapped together for two minutes would have the very uncomfortable moment of should we or should we not. Oh, damn. I am now that person.

  Everest throws his hands in the air. “I’m just saying it’s there. I read once that focusing on an object or having a good distraction helps in this kind of situation. Honestly.”

  “I’m not kissing you.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “I’m sure you are.” His eyes do that twinkling thing again. “We might be stu
ck in here for a while.”

  I gasp. “You said it would be up and running quickly.”

  “I was mostly trying to comfort you.” He chuckles. “I honestly have zero idea how long this might take. But, I would suggest getting comfy. Like perhaps, just resting your head back and staring up at that wonderful little token in the ceiling kind of comfy.”

  Do not look up, Ginger . . .

  Do not look up, Ginger . . .

  Do not look up, Ginger . . .

  Listen, hear me out...not only do I look up, but I also grab him by his luxurious suit lapels and tug with all my might to smack his fabulously sexy kisser on mine. And holy crap he tastes like a candy store. His mouth is Peppermint Patty mint-a-licious and his tongue is an expert sugar plum fairy dancer. Everest groans as he claims my face in his palms, framing my cheeks as he deepens our kiss.

  I forget about the elevator as he kisses me. I forget about my birthday. And disappointingly, my bestie Bianca. I don’t even care about how late I am to deliver Meredith’s ridiculously over-the-top latte. All I care about is this kiss. It’s leg-shaking, heartbreaking, spin me on my axle type of good. I want to drink down how he smells and the groans he exhales from his mouth into mine.

  His kiss is the only thing convincing me to not be afraid and shove a fistful of fingers into his thick quaft of locks. He pulls me in close to him, chest to chest and I’m lost inside his big strong arms, my breasts heaving against his rugged torso. We’re like a tornado spinning out of control as he swoops me up into his lap and I can’t help but to grind on him, feeling every bit of desire he has underneath those thin black dress pants.

  “Damn,” he says on a groan, moving his mouth from my lips to my throat.

  Happy birthday to me . . .

  I roam the muscles of his back as he claims the pulse point under my ear with his hot wet lips. The tips of his fingers skirt up my thigh, stopping just at the hem of my dress as if he’s not sure how much further to take this.

  I scrape my nails down his back completely loving how it feels to be wrapped around him. I don’t do things like this. Ever. But holy eyeshadow, it’s so hot and it feels so, so incredibly good. I’m about to give him the green light to keep going, to have me anyway he pleases, but suddenly, the lights flicker back on full blaze and the doors pry open.

  On the other side of the elevator doors there’s a firefighter dressed in his dark signature FDNY shirt and yellow pants. His mouth pinches as he tries not to smile at what he finds.

  Us. Two grown ass adults grinding and making out like feral teenagers unsupervised. Oh, the scandal.

  I nearly laugh at myself.

  I’m a bit surprised at myself. I usually would be bright red, blazing with embarrassment, but something about this, something about Everest makes me feel right. It almost makes me feel safe.

  “You two ok in here? I could uh,” he says with a little snicker. “I could close the door if you wish. Go get a slice, and come back later?” There’s a group behind him that laughs, too. I’m guessing it’s the rest of the firehouse.

  Ok, now I’m freaking scarlet all over. The heat flares up in my cheeks and ears. And it’s not because the fireman is also a big hottie. Chandler it says on his shirt.

  What the hell is today? National Hot Guy Day? National Bitch Down, Send Help Day?

  Well, folks, the help ain’t helping because they’re just as lethal as the culprit.

  I fan my face and try to climb to my feet but my legs are all wobbly like a baby doe.

  Everest rises up and keeps hold of me with his strong arms until Bambi gets her shit together on the only pair of red-bottom heels she owns.

  “Thank you,” I say to him.

  Everest nods, something lingering in his eyes as he walks me to the door, allowing the fireman to pull me up.

  We’re not very far from the door, only a good foot difference from where it should line up perfectly, but I still need help getting free. As soon as I reach the floor and can breath the fresh air of the hallway, I feel so much better.

  Another fireman asks me a slew of questions about wanting to go get checked out at the hospital and if he can offer me a blanket or water or something, and in my midst of being so distracted, I don’t get a chance to turn around in time and see Everest leave.

  Which is odd in itself. Who makes out with a person and then just hauls ass? Maybe he has a girlfriend? Ugh. Shittiest birthday ever.

  I sling my purse back on my shoulder and thank the men again as I try to focus. I still need to get Meredith her ridiculous coffee.

  I take a deep breath. I’m about to storm the stairs so I can finally get out of this hell pit when I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. It’s the hotty fireman. Chandler.

  “Does this belong to you?” he asks.

  He’s holding out the mistletoe.

  “Um …” I pluck it from his fingers. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Hey, you didn’t see where he went, did you?”

  “Who?”

  I blink. “The guy that was in the elevator with me.”

  Chandler shakes his head. “There was just you.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “I’m a fireman. We don’t ever joke, sweetheart.” He spins around and I swear I hear him laugh.

  Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a big ass case of what in the actual fuck?

  Two

  Ginger

  “Oh, you whore.” The only thing worse than getting ditched after an epic make-out session and grind-fest is your BFF laughing at you after you tell her all about it. “When you come home, you better spill the tea, the whole tea, and nothing but the tea.”

  “Bianca,” I say lowly into the phone as I try to balance Meredith’s latte in one hand, my macchiato quad in the other, and also hold my cell. I’m sure I’m already fired and will return to find my shit boxed up and waiting by the front door, if I'm lucky, but on the off chance Meredith doesn’t fire me, I definitely don't want to return empty handed. “I’m begging you to please stop saying ‘spill the tea.’ Do you even know what you’re saying?”

  “You have changed Ginger Darling,” she huffs, but it’s playfully dramatic. “Just remember who stood by you through Ramen noodles and dollar store makeup when MT starts making you the face of her empire.”

  “Oh, please. I’m nobody.”

  “You’re amazing, G. Call me later?”

  “Totes ma’ goats.”

  She laughs at my lameness. I roll my eyes at it too. How could I not?

  The line goes dead, and I shove my iPhone back into my purse and walk a little easier with only two objects to balance versus three.

  I hustle to get back to Guru Girl, both dreading and anxious to discover my fate. Trinity Sykes’s face beams across an epic billboard in Times Square showing off her new mystery box line of products. Finally the items are revealed. And when I see each product slowly bloom on the screen to reveal itself, I’m shocked, to say the least.

  Forever Frost is the name and each item is almost an exact copy of what we’ve been working on at Guru Girl.

  What the hell?

  The name is even the same. Her collection is called Forever Frost and Meredith’s is named Forever Frostbitten. Meredith has to be losing her shit, for real.

  I move as quickly as possible back to the office. My chest heaves as I reach the floor, having climbed eight flights of stairs to reach her office, complete with coffee.

  Meredith sits there at her hot-pink desk, complete with a faux fur hot-pink desk chair with the name of the company Guru Girl etched into the fabric. Everything in her office drips in hot-pink and monogramming and what isn’t flashy and pink is flashy and gold. It’s her signature look and styling.

  Meredith acts like she can’t hear me. She’s lost in whatever she’s staring at on her computer screen.

  “Um . . .” I clear my throat and she blinks to life. It’s like she slips a mask back on as she pays attention to me standing her
e, but instead of being a major bitch she just snaps her fingers for the coffee in my hand. “Sorry. There was a major elevator issue and we got stuck inside.”

  She sips greedily at her latte and I hold my breath hoping it’s perfect. I didn’t even have time to double check the order like I normally do.

  “We?” is all she returns to me.

  “Oh, yes. I got stuck with one of the models from Versace. Or at least he looked that good. I honestly don’t know what he does. Photographer maybe? But, he was amazingly hot. Anywho, he broke the elevator and we were stuck inside.”

  She stares at me for a moment like I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have. “There aren’t any models shooting past three, Jennifer.”

  Oh, right. Yeah, she does that sometimes, too. Calls me by the wrong name. I’ve stopped correcting her because honestly, I’ve seen her do it to others too, and I think it’s just her way of being extra bitchy. I don’t want her to know it bothers me.

  “Oh.”

  “Do you have any idea what’s happening right now?”

  “I um...I saw Trinity’s billboard reveal. Yes. I’m so sorry, Meredith.”

  She scoffs. “You think I care? You have any idea what this scandal will do for our sales?”

  What? “You don’t care that she stole our idea?”

  “My idea,” she corrects, and it makes me want to vomit a little. Maybe I’m not some big shot company owner but damn it, I was there helping with the creation. I even named two of the shade colors in her liquid lipstick line. Big Red Bow. And Silver Bells.

  Is she serious? Ugh. I can’t take it anymore.

  “I just thought maybe you would be angry she stole from us. And that she’ll get credit for what we all worked so hard on.”

  She smiles wickedly, just like Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Jennifer, the only thing that matters at the end of the day is who kills it in sales. Don’t be so naive. You’re too nice and nice girls always finish last.”

  I swallow down the truck load of things I’d love to say to her, starting with my name not being fucking Jennifer. This lady needs a serious wake up call on how to treat people. No tact. None.

  But like any good worker bee, I just nod and smile and let her be right. “Yes, ma’am. Uh, is there anything else you need for the day?”