Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship

A guy in the back says something, but I can’t see or hear him. I clear my throat, and stand on my tiptoes. “Who said something?”

Out of nowhere this tall, dark figure stands from his chair and steps up. He has beautiful brown hair, perfectly styled facial hair and a jaw line that makes my thighs clench and my lady parts scream, “Hallelujah!”

“I said, do we get paid half up front?”

When we lock eyes, I can feel my cheeks redden, because he’s the same stranger who picked up the engagement ring for me earlier. He comes to the same realization, and that smile of his widens the same way it did earlier.

“Well, we can work something out.” I blink, but only once, because I want to take in his green eyes for as long as possible. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt that is hiding his clearly toned body. “What’s your name?”

“Kayden Reece.”

“Why don’t I know you?” I know all of our clients. It’s my job to file, file, and file some more of their paperwork.

“I was signed on to the team this afternoon. This is my first official audition.”

Ohh, he’s sexy. I can use fresh meat; they are less likely to ask for a raise. “Age?”

“Twenty-seven.”

Ohhh, older than me by a year. Perfect! “Girlfriend?”

He shifts his glance to the ground and I can tell he’s smiling. An overwhelming amount of desire fills me when he looks up again and I get to take in the smile. It’s sexy and adorable all at one. Sexdorable. His smile is so sexdorable it almost kills me. If I didn’t have a thing against dating actors, and if my heart weren’t currently being dragged through the mud, I would totally be up for making some babies with him.

His looks alone make Danny appear like the ugliest man alive, which pleases me quite a bit, but that’s not all he has that is so much more charming than Danny. Kayden has this deep, sultry, smoky voice that pulls all of the attention to him whenever he speaks. Danny sounds like freaking Mickey Mouse on crack. Kayden also has this edgy characteristic about him that reads badass yet sweetheart all at once. And with a name like Kayden, he was destined to be all kinds of yum.

“No girlfriend to claim at this moment in time.”

I nod once and step off of the chair, giving an evil glance to all of the actors who didn’t step up for the role of a lifetime. “Follow me to my office, Mr. Reece.”

“I’m guessing the proposal didn’t go over too great?” Kayden asks, and my gut tightens. I don’t reply, and watch as he shifts around in his chair. Clearly he knows now that he should’ve kept that comment to himself.

“So, here’s the thing. I can pay you five hundred dollars upfront. You’ll get the rest after we leave Haven Creeks, Wisconsin. You can stop by your place, pack up some things. If you have any white or black winter wear, that would be perfect. Then we can match and be super cute and like a match made in heaven. Then again, I bought a few hats and gloves for the ass whose name shall not be spoken, so I’ll pack that up for you, too.” I scatter papers around my desk, looking for something, anything, just to avoid looking at the beautiful piece of man candy sitting across from me. He’s smirking, which in turn makes my lady parts smirk. He knows he’s good-looking. He has to!

“Ms. Stone,” he cuts in and I hold my hand up.

“Oh God no. My mom is Mrs. Stone, I’m Jules, please.”

“All right, Jules. I’m sorry, this is all happening pretty fast. So, is there a way

we can start from the beginning?” I stop my shuffling and look at the handsome man sitting across from me. He’s leaning forward, running his hand across his chin.

I feel my cheeks heat up, feeling silly that this sudden plan of mine is actually a load of crap. My head falls to the desk and I curse under my breath. When my head rises, I can tell that my curly blond hair looks like hell, but I don’t care about much anymore.

“Listen, I’m a hot mess and this is insanely unprofessional, but it’s also very much like me because I’m a nut job. This isn’t even my office. It’s my boss’s, but he’s gone on vacation with his wife, who loves him. I work in the cubicle in the back corner.” I try to fight the tears that are thrusting their way to the surface. “I come to work every day, happy to help people reach their dreams because I didn’t reach mine. Everyone in my family are freaks. My sister’s a whore who I oddly enough wish I could be. And I date losers because I think that’s all I can attract.” My bottom lip starts to tremble, and the tears of a sad, single girl start spilling from my eyes. “And my only friends are ninety-year-olds who have more make-out sessions than I do!”

Ignite ugly crying now.

I sob into my hands and proceed to get all snotty and gross in front of Sir Hottie-Smiles.

“Um, Jules, is everything okay?” Claire peeks her head in my office, forcing me to cry even harder because it’s not okay. Nothing’s okay. I don’t look up at her because she has a fiancé and she’s happy and younger than me, which adds insult to injury.

“I think she’ll be okay,” Kayden says, making me peek my eyes through my fingers to find him staring at me. It’s intimidating how he looks at me, because it’s not like he simply stares. It’s more like he can see into me. See my spirit, my soul, which is worrisome because if he sees that deep into me then he would be running away any minute now.

Claire looks over to me, and I nod to her through my tears. She slowly closes the office door, locking Kayden and me inside. Kayden moves from his chair and holds his hand out toward me. “Can I try something?” he requests, waiting for me to give him my hand. I look at my hands—all snotty and nastified—and wipe them against my jeans.

Kayden takes my hand, pulls me up from my sob party for one, and walks me to the door. Positioning my back against it, he takes my other hand into his. His proximity to my body is extremely close and somewhat petrifying. The cold wood from the door touches the back of my neck, creating powerful shivers. He positions himself in front of me, his body demanding my attention. He’s at least six-foot-four, which makes me appear short at five-foot-eight. Is he going to kiss me? Because I’m not going to kiss him. I don’t even know you!

“I’m not going to kiss you,” he explains.