“Okay, Mr. Awesome. How about peeling potatoes for me then?”
Trey released her, but when she turned, he gave her a gentle pat on her ass that had her turning and rolling her eyes at him.
“I’ll do whatever you command of me, my love. My darling. My incredible, amazing, beautiful, talented and perfect wife. I’ll even bend the knees right here right now if you ask me to.”
“Oh brother.” Ambi slid open the drawer and threw the peeler at him. He caught it easily. “Get peeling.”
“Okay. I really do love you, though, Ambi. Undercooked, overcooked, anycooked turkey and all.”
She rolled her eyes again, but when she turned, he knew she was still grinning. That was the way they went through life. Together. Sometimes annoying each other so much but loving the hell out of each other and laughing their way through it.
“I love you too, you cheeseball. Always.”
“Forever and always?”
“Yeah. Forever and always.”
Well. At least he’d graduated from anything that had to do with turds. Cheese was delicious. Exotic. Expensive. A definite improvement. He’d take it.
The End.
KISSED BY THE BOSS
BOOK DESCRIPTION
Drinks + Christmas Party + Lost eye contacts = Flaming Hot Kiss
Except I have no idea who was on the receiving end.
I didn’t even see (extreme short-sightedness problems big time).
But it was definitely someone from the office.
New week, new day at work,
Annnnd my lips are still tingling whenever I think about it.
But it’s not like I can kiss every guy in the office,
And see who would turn out to be the charming prince of that night.
Not that I don’t already have enough on my plate as it is,
What with all the shooting glares my hotshot player of a boss keeps directing at me.
Why was he suddenly acting so out of character?
What was he so mad about?
Did I do something wrong?
Did I fax the wrong letter maybe?
Or clip his documents wrong?
CHAPTER 1
Callie
There were just some things in life that were better off not done. Office Christmas parties were near the top of Callie Canahan’s list. Unfortunately, her best friend, who was also her roommate, wasn’t of the same mindset.
“Come on! You can’t skip out. It will be fun!” Chantara stuck out a lip in a pretty pout. Everything Chantara did was pretty. She was the kind of woman who would look beautiful in a sack. Or a paper bag. Whatever people always talked about.
“Fun as in… super boring? I just started there. I don’t know anyone. I shouldn’t even have the right to come.”
“You’ve been there for over a month. That certainly qualifies you. Even if you didn’t work there, I could still bring you as my guest. Which would be far better than anyone I’ve brought in the past. Last year, Troy drank like sixteen free whiskeys and that was the end of the night for us. It’s lucky I didn’t get fired.”
“It was more than just the end of the night. You dumped him and left him in the cab outside the apartment and he’d lost his wallet, so the cab driver wouldn’t take him any further. He kept ringing the buzzer until I got the story out of you and went down and gave him twenty bucks.”
“Ugh, that was a bad night.”
“One of the worst.”
“Ha! Not nearly.” Chantara’s dark eyes glittered with amusement.
She gave a toss of thick black hair over her shoulders. She currently had on a matching pajama set, a pink tank and fuzzy pink bottoms with little bunnies all over them. They were absolutely adorable. But not nearly as adorable as Chantara looked in them. Callie was vaguely jealous. If she’d worn those pajamas, they would have made her look like a five-year-old girl. She didn’t have the lush curves that Chantara did. She was tall and also slightly on the stick-kind-of-body side.
Once, in high school, they’d been discussing body types, the whole apple and pear thing. She wasn’t either of those. More like celery. Or banana. Or… or carrot- a real thin, long one.
“You’re right. Not nearly. I remember a few nights back in college…”
“Don’t go there,” Chantara groaned.
“Then there was the night you got so drunk at that bar you were dancing on the rooftops of cars.”
“No! You are forbidden to talk about that!”
Callie giggle and it wasn’t long before she and Chantara dissolved into giggles. Chantara wiped a few tears from her cheeks.
“You know, I thought at twenty-seven we’d be with people and in real houses and not a dumpy apartment, still using each other for wingmen and company.”
“I’ll always use you as my wingman,” Callie said soberly. “And for company. Boyfriend or no boyfriend.”
“Didn’t you think though, that at this age you’d be married or something? Like, back in the day? When you were a teenager?”
Callie sighed. “I guess so, but now, twenty-seven seems really young. Aren’t they saying forty is the new twenty? And we have a long way to go before that.”