Trapped With His Boss For Christmas

Chapter 4: A Rare Coincidence

REED’S POV

“Pull that other end toward me so it forms a circle, boy,” I say to Brayan, and the little man does as I ask perfectly. “Good. Thanks, man.” The flower forms a circle, and I quickly tie it firmly so it doesn’t fall off after a while.

“I want to put it up. Can I, please?” Brayan asks, his big round eyes widening as he pleads, and there’s no way I’m saying no to that.

“Fine,” I tell him. This is the last of the Christmas decor anyway, so he can get to put it up.

I hand him the flower, pick him up to give him some added height, and I direct him to hang the mistletoe over the door knocker.

“WOW! It’s so nice and pretty. This is where kisses happen right?” Brayan asks innocently, and I nod. He turns to face me, malice glinting in his baby eyes, and already knowing that he’s about to ask when I’ll kiss a girl here, I attack him with a ton of kisses. Since he’s in my arms, there’s really nothing else for him to do other than twist in my grasp.

I kiss his cheeks and forehead, his neck, his ears, in fact, every exposed part of his face, and his belly laughter is so contagious, I fear that one of us would pee if I continue for another five seconds.

“I’m not gonna stop kissing you, man,” I say, continuing regardless, and ignoring that my eyes are quickly filling with tears from laughing so hard. I’ve spent the last four years of my life with him, and I’m nowhere closer to getting used to the joy he brings me.

“Dad! Stop!” Brayan yells in the middle of laughing, and I let go so he can catch a breath. “I’m not the one you’re supposed to kiss, silly! It’s your girlfriend!”

“But I don’t have one, so I’m gonna kiss you,” I tell him, and we laugh it off. “Alright kiddo, let’s get inside now. It’s cold outside,” I say, and he agrees easily.

Soon after that, Brayan takes a nap in his room, and my mind falls back to the mysterious creature that distorted my night yesterday in only the best ways.

She was intoxicated as heck, as was I, and I doubt she’ll remember any of it, but I’m not forgetting anything about last night anytime soon.

Whenever Brayan, my four year old, said I needed a girlfriend, I always brushed it off, until he mentioned it again just now, and she popped into my head.

So when I open the door an hour later for our supposed chef for the night and I see her standing there with the same smile I memorized last night plastered on her face, I’m beyond starstruck.

In all my years, never have I had a coincidence like this, but I try to play it cool and ask if she’s stalking me, even though I know exactly how she got the location to my private property.

“No…No…I…” she stutters, looking down on her phone to find out where the mistake came from. “I’m supposed…”

“I know. Come in, please, Chef Daphne,” I say for good measure, seeing as that’s her name from the online profile where I found her. “It’s cold outside,” I say, gesturing to the snow, and she snaps her lips shut.

I can’t say I don’t like her being rattled like this, but not when she’s almost shaking from the cold.

She walks past me, and I have to restrain myself from going right after her like a predator to prey.

She’s a very attractive woman, Daphne, easily one of the prettiest people I’ve encountered in thirty five years of living, but a part of me thought that I was mostly drawn to her last night because of how drunk I was. Now, having a clear head, and with her being in my apartment but the feeling of wanting her not dimming even by a fraction, I know that’s false.

When she takes off her coat, I watch as her strawberry blonde wavy hair traces down to a slim waist, and I can’t stop looking.

“I didn’t know…” she starts speaking when we reach the living room, and I can practically hear the voice wishing on her head that she wasn’t here right now. “I thought I was cooking for a Reed,” she explains, and I nod, not once looking away from her entrancing green eyes.

“That’s me. I’m Reed Horace,” I introduce, and she nods, echoing a dry laughter.

“Right. I didn’t know that.”

“You would have rejected the job if you did?” I ask, and she loses her voice, starting to stutter again.

“Well, yes…I mean, no. I mean, you have to admit that this is weird,” she says, squirming, and the image of how she did the same thing last night when she was under me flashes in my head, and my c**k jerks under my joggers. “Right?” She asks, and I step closer, chuckling as she almost stumbles over.

“Careful. I didn’t know you were going to be my chef either, but I think we can manage. I’ve heard good things about you, Chef Daphne,” and she frowns slightly, clearly not impressed by my compliments.

“It’s that easy for you to switch from sleeping with someone to then working for you, is it not?” She asks, bitterness lacing her tone, but she immediately bites down on her lower lip, a perpetual habit of hers, I’ve noticed, like she regrets snapping.

Before she can apologize, Brayan’s voice comes from the passage connecting the living room with the other four rooms in the chalet.

“Daddy, who is that?” When I turn to face him, Brayan is rubbing his sleepy eyes with the back of his palm, but it’s the gasp I hear from Daphne that causes me to turn back to her.

“You are married?” She asks, her eyes shooting wide open to the point where her eyebrows almost touch her hairline.