Bought by the Boss

He smiles, warming the richness of his eyes. “Well, I’m glad then.” He wraps an arm around the small of my back, bringing me in close against the strength of his body. “Though you’ve also made me curious. Why is this gift so unexpected?”

I glance down at the ornament, running my hand over the smooth shiny ceramic. “I guess I would have expected you to…”

“Spend thousands on you?”

I cringe. “God that sounds so awful, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t sound awful. I’m sure that’s what I would have expected if I was you.” He leans in and grins. “Let me also remind, I already have spent thousands on you.” I blush and glance away but his finger on my chin demands my gaze. “I know you, Aria, and I know this ornament is something that would mean more to you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you love Christmas.”

I stop breathing, staring at him. It’s a little detail about me that’s true and personal. Some women go crazy for purses or shoes even. For me, it’s Christmas. “Did Mallory tell you I love Christmas?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t talk to Mallory about you.”

“Ever?”

“Never.” He gently guides me forward. We continue walking by the shops with his arm around my waist. “It would cross a boundary, and truthfully, I like unearthing all your secrets myself.”

“How did you unearth this secret then?” I need to understand, and I’m not even really sure why.

He gives a soft smile. “Because you light up around Christmastime.”

“I do?”

He nods and chuckles. “There’s a brightness about you, and I’ve never heard anyone else talk about Christmas right after Halloween. I’ve heard you say to Mallory after meetings that you were going home to watch Christmas Vacation, and it was in November.”

I laugh softly. I can’t recall that conversation but it’s totally something I would do.

He glances down at me, a strand of hair falling out of place. “Besides, I’ve heard Mallory mention a gift she’s bought for you now and again in the office, and it’s always Christmas related.”

I gape at him. Honestly, gape at him.

He watches me, his eyes twinkling when he spins me into him, wrapping both arms around my back. “It appears I’ve dumbfounded you.”

“To be perfectly honest with you, Liam”—I stare into the warmth of his eyes, seeing things I never saw before—“it’s so incredibly sweet of you to notice something like that about me.” Maybe even the most touching thing anyone has ever noticed. It has nothing to do with my looks, my brains, or anything. He noticed something that warms my heart. No guy has ever paid that much attention to me before.

“See, and that’s why I like to win.” He smiles. “That look right there on your face. That’s what I like.” I smile back, and lean into him as we continue walking again. A few steps later, Liam breaks the silence. “I am interested, though, why is Christmas so important to you? Any meaning behind that?”

“My parents are divorced,” I tell him, not feeling like I need to hide this part of myself. I hook my arm through his and set to explaining. “They were two of the most miserable people when they were together. But no matter what, they always put their feelings aside and got together on Christmas Day for me.”

“Even after their divorce?”

I nod. “Even after.” We pass by a man painted silver and pretending to be a statue. Believable enough that even a pigeon is perched on his head. I smile at them both before addressing Liam again. “Of course, it took me a long time to figure out that’s why I loved Christmas so much.”

“It’s a nice thing to love,” he says, taking my hand. “For a very good reason.”

“It is,” I agree.

We stroll along passing by break-dancers and then further down is a crowd gathered around a magician. With each step I take, I become more curious about the man who seems to understand the way I tick. “What is your Christmas?”

“This.” He gestures with his chin. “Santa Monica is my Christmas.”

“Is there any special meaning behind why you love it here so much?”

He draws in a deep breath glancing out in front of him. “I feel right when I’m here.” The side of his mouth arches, and he looks at me. “Does that make sense?”