Your Christmas Love (The Bennett Family 10)

“Let’s stop here,” I said. “I need to get going anyway.”

“You have plans?”

“Promised my parents I’d stop by for a drink. If I don’t, my mother is liable to show up at the office. Do you know a good place to buy chocolates? I’ve been away from San Francisco for a while, and my old go-to store closed. I don’t want to go empty-handed. Ordered some online a few days ago, but if you have a recommendation, I’ll go with that.”

“Sure.” Her tone was softer. I was sure I’d just earned a few points. Between yawns, she gave me the address of a shop.

“I’ve kept you here for too long.”

“We’ve got some very long evenings ahead of us if you want to roll it out starting in the new year.”

“Once we finalize the concept, I’m going to bring the VP of operations into this. But yes, it will be a lot of work. Hence why I won’t take time off for Christmas.”

She pouted. I knew it was on the tip of her tongue to ask me about her time off.

“Sienna. I approved your vacation time on my first day. HR is still processing it.”

“Really? Thank you, thank you, thank you. I think my brother would have disowned me otherwise. Come to think of it, my whole family probably would have.”

“What are your plans? Spending the whole vacation in London?”

“Just one week. And then part of the family is going to Aspen. It’ll be amazing. I’m going to be the skiing instructor for the kids.”

She spoke every word with warmth. Her exuberance was addicting.

That was perhaps why I looked for every opportunity to be near her. Sure, I felt guilty about keeping her here, but that wasn’t the only reason I’d volunteered to paint her walls.

“Sounds like a full schedule.”

“It is.”

“Be sure to send me pictures. It’ll keep me entertained while I slave away here.”

“Is that a ruse to actually send me work while I’m away?”

I was longing to touch her again, so I put my hands in my pockets. Easier to resist the impulse this way.

“No need for ruses with me. When I want something, I ask for it, Sienna.”

***

I arrived at my parents’ house half an hour later than I said I would.

Predictably, Mom was already suspicious.

“I was afraid you’d call us with an excuse, saying you won’t make it after all.”

I pulled out the box of chocolates.

“I see. Brought this to soften me up.”

I winked at her before shaking hands with Dad. Clapping my shoulder, he said, “You did well with those chocolates.”

“Had the best teacher.”

I learned my tricks from him.

My parents lived in a two-bedroom house in Pacific Heights. I’d grown up in a larger house, but after I left for college, they downsized, insisting that all the empty rooms just served as a reminder that I was gone.