Page 36 of Mistletoe Mischief

“What was that about?” Nick asked, setting his end of the tree on the silver rollers.

“Nothing, she’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Who is she?”

“Alia Cole’s assistant. She likes to get under my skin.”

Nick chuckled. “Is that all she likes to get under?”

“Slide the tree, idiot.”

His friend did so without another word, but Pike noticed he didn’t lose his shit-eating grin.

Once they finished sliding the tree across the table and through the net, they returned to the group of women, who were discussing the upcoming Christmas activities.

“Do you ladies have a vehicle to haul this home?” Nick asked Alia.

Alia turned to Ryler, who answered, “We’re in a rental. It’s a Nissan Rogue.”

Pike couldn’t believe Alia didn’t even know what kind of car they had rented. “You got tie-down straps?”

“No,” Ryler said.

Nick slapped Pike on the back. “Lucky for you, we deliver. Pike will follow you home with your tree.”

“That would be wonderful, right, Ryler?” Alia smiled at her assistant, and Pike got the feeling Alia was enjoying teasing Ryler.

“Swell.”

Pike covered his surprised laugh with a cough when he saw Ryler flash a double bird at her boss. It was strange how the two of them behaved more like sisters than employee and employer.

Ryler made a face at him when she caught him staring, and he grunted. “If you’ve paid, the two of you should go warm up in the car. I’ll be right behind you.”

As Alia and Ryler headed toward the tent exit, Pike could have sworn he heard Ryler mutter, “Bossy motherfucker.”

He smirked. Baby, you have no idea.

Chapter Ten

Ryler watched Pike in the rearview mirror, questioning her behavior toward him. She’d always lectured Alia on how she treated the locals when they visited places, and here she was, practically declaring war against the man who had brought them here. What was it about Pike that pressed every button she didn’t know she had?

“You’re quiet.”

“So?” Ryler asked.

“Is that because you’re thinking about Christmas decorations or world domination?”

“Why can’t it be both?” she quipped.

“Or, does your pensive state have something to do with the man currently following us in a big daddy truck.”

“It’s not his truck. He’s borrowing it from the farm.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be Daddy.”

Ryler laughed. “Dude, that’s your kink, not mine.”

“And what is wrong with throwing a little kink in the bedroom play? What, are you seriously telling me you like straight missionary, all eye contact?”