Filthy Scrooge

And possibly on the collar of his Santa suit. How cliché. Ugh.

I hadn’t been exactly dainty when I’d kissed him back. Nope, more like a savage.

I wanted to esc

ape out the skinny window, but that was out. My ass would never fit through it. Instead I closed myself into one of the stalls. Once I had my tights back on, I felt a little better, but for once, I wished I had an extra pair of panties.

That was not normally a problem in my life. Ever.

These had gone beyond damp. I was beyond damp. I straightened my sweater and juggled my boobs back into the cups correctly. I covered my tender breasts and tried not to groan thanks to my still erect nipples. This stupid bra was not made for the likes of Lincoln Murdock.

I wasn’t entirely sure I was made for the likes of him either. However, my girl parts were way on board.

I pushed my hair out of my face as I went to the sink. Thanks to my emergency bag, I was able to repair my face and hair to a somewhat acceptable level.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door to find a dark-haired woman with a kid. The same woman who had stopped Linc in his tracks. This time, the child wasn’t in such good spirits.

“Hi. Sorry, excuse me.” The little girl squalled and arched in misery. “All right, Melody. Give me a break here.”

I held my hands out instinctively as the toddler went into a full backbend. Melody’s screech echoed in the bathroom as her little face scrunched up and turned beet red.

The woman clutched her child tight to her chest. “Sorry. She’s way past her nap and she didn’t care for the company dinner.”

I dug into my bag and found a candy cane and held it up to the little girl. “How’s that?”

The waterworks stopped immediately as she plucked the candy out of my hand and shoved it in her mouth, wrapper and all.

The woman rolled her eyes. “What do you say?”

“Tay-too,” Melody said around a line of drool.

I smiled at the little girl and backed toward the door.

“So, you’re Lincoln’s friend?” She didn’t look at me, just set her daughter down on the changing table that lowered off the wall and efficiently stripped the toddler of her white tights enough to change her diaper.

I paused with my back against the door. “No. I wouldn’t call us friends exactly.”

“Just what would you call it?”

I crossed my arms. Future Fuck Buddies of America? “He hired me to plan the Christmas party.”

“Hmm.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? And what the hell did I say to her question? Not that it deserved an answer, because it didn’t. We were adults, both unencumbered.

He was single, right?

I hadn’t exactly asked. More like assumed. I cleared my throat. “Am I stepping on toes?”

“No.” The woman smiled down at her daughter, then at me. “Not at all. In fact, I’m thrilled he’s…whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Well, it’s not a thing or anything. It’s just—it’s not any of your business.”

Yeah, I’d handled that one well.

She hiked up Melody’s tights, tossed the diaper in the trash, and swung the diaper bag over her shoulder before depositing her child on her hip. “I’m not bashing you in any way. I hope it doesn’t sound like that. In fact, I’m freaking thrilled. He needs to laugh again. Especially this time of year.” With that cryptic statement, she stopped at the sinks and washed her hands, then let her daughter do the same before they both stood in front of the drier.

Melody giggled as the hot air blew at her hands. I couldn’t help but smile back at her. Talk about a happy kid.