CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

MAE POV

Christmas sure came early this year.

I couldn’t believe my luck, gawping like a slack-jawed fool across the desk at Mr Douglas.

I’d escaped. Avoided the impending doom and a desperate stint of job hunting in the new year.

My dice with unemployment still had my nerves on fire, but the euphoria crashing in on top was intense enough to wash over the lot of it.

Intense enough that I could have kissed him, deep and hard and breathlessly, in relief as much as adoration.

I did nothing, of course, just stared at him from the key sitting on the desk between us, waiting for him to elaborate on what the hell is the very personal thing he was trying to ask me.

Thank you, Lord, I’d already scored lucky enough for one day. I couldn’t even hope. Dared not hope.

A date? Dinner? A trip round to his place for N*****x and turkey sandwiches?

I was game for anything. Everything.

“I’m away at my brother’s place for Christmas,” he told me. “London. I’ll be gone in a few days.”

I nodded, cringing at the knowledge of how goofy my smile must be.

“I need a house sitter.” His eyes grabbed mine and held tight.

My voice sounded so pathetic when it came. “A house sitter?”

His nod was definite. “Yes, Miss Chase. A house sitter.”

I tried to soak the request in. “You want me to stay at your house?”

His sigh told me how impressed he was with my slow uptake. “Yes, Mae, I’d like you to stay at my house in my absence over the Christmas period. If you think you can handle that.”

I felt my eyebrows scrunch, because I may have been feeling pretty dazed right then, but I was sure Mr Douglas lived on the fancy estate out by the bypass, and I was also pretty sure those parts weren’t a home invader hotspot. He’d be quite unlucky to get a burst pipe while he was out of town, or have the place burn down on Christmas day, so the need for a sitter seemed quite drastic.

“Have you got a plant that needs watering or something?” I quizzed with a dumbass little smirk, then hated myself for even questioning his request. I should’ve snatched up that key fast enough to give me whiplash.

An awkward pause. So awkward I almost laughed just to break the tension.

“A cat,” he said, just like that. “I have a cat.”

I must have still had that stupid smirk on my face, because his eyes narrowed hard on mine.

He cleared his throat and the severity of his glare dried my humour right up.

“I need someone to take care of my personal affairs in my absence, Mae. I’m asking if I can rely on you to be that person over the holiday period. Are you up to the job or do I need to look elsewhere?”

Butterflies.

So many they were crashing into each other.

His eyes were light and piercing, and his brows were heavy, and he was serious and steely and everything that made me gooey inside.

“I can be that person, Mr Douglas,” I told him and meant it. “What do you need me to do?”

I felt his smile in all the places I shouldn’t. All the places that had nearly got me fired in the first place.

“Tomorrow,” he told me. “Pack anything you’ll be needing for the holidays, and once we’re done with our Secret Santa shenanigans I’ll drop you around at mine and we’ll get you settled in for the break. I’ll make sure the fridge is stocked up and I’ll be sure to give you a bonus for your overtime.”

I shook my head. “No need for overtime, sir. I’ll be happy to help.”

His expression was deadpan. “Overtime wages are obligatory, Mae. What I’m asking is above the call of duty by anyone’s standards.”

I was tempted to pinch myself, just to make sure I hadn’t actually knocked myself out on my desk and this wasn’t a blissful hallucination.

The key felt real enough in my palm once I picked it up.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

And that was it. A curt nod of his head told me the conversation was done and I was free to go.

It took me a few long seconds to compose myself enough to get to my feet and grab my laptop. I was grinning all the way across the room as I retreated, walking backwards like an idiot until my shoulders slammed into his office door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mae,” he said as I wrangled the door open.

“Thank you,” I said, again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr Douglas.”

I took a deep gulp of air as his door clicked closed behind me, gathering my frayed edges before even attempting to resume my work activities like life was anything near normal.

Life was anything but normal.

I’d be spending Christmas day at Mr Douglas’s house. His actual house.

With his actual things and his actual cat and an actual Christmas turkey in the fridge.

I’m sure his cat would appreciate a turkey roast too, so technically I wouldn’t even be alone for dinner.

It was weird, the cat thing. I mean, weird but not weird. Half of the population have a cat as a pet, and don’t they say that most cats have three homes or something? Like feline timeshare.

So no, it wasn’t weird that there’d be a cat at Mr Douglas’s house, I just couldn’t imagine him owning one. He didn’t seem the type.

Like I had a single clue what kind of type of anything Mr Douglas was. Aside from a demon in the bedroom, that is, courtesy of the office gossip I’d gratefully received earlier.

I wondered if his cat was one of those pedigree things with a flat face that would hate me on sight and attack my toes every five minutes. Maybe it would try to suffocate me in my sleep.

Or maybe it was a big brute of a tom cat, who didn’t give a shit for anyone just so long as his food bowl was topped up high.

I had no idea, but there was no doubt I’d be excited as a pig in shit to find out. I hoped it would be like me.

I hoped he would like me too, once he realised that I was a great house sitter and didn’t leave so much as a stray crumb behind on his kitchen worktop.

Maybe he’d let me sit in the house again someday. Maybe this would become a regular thing, me holed up with his cat while he was jetting off around the world on business affairs.

Maybe there’d even be some crossover — him grabbing a morning shower before heading away and me just happening to stumble on in to steal a look at his steamy butt cheeks.

I was getting carried away. Very carried away.

Carried away enough that I could feel a whole new story forming. Screw Christmas Daddy, Hello Night At Mr Douglas’s House.

‘I fed your cat, sir, now feed my pussy.’

‘First time anal with the house sitter.’

No.

No, no, no. Definitely not. No way.

I should’ve learned my lesson. I have learned my lesson. Just as soon as I got home for the evening I was going to wipe the whole load of it from Mae’s Stuff and store the fruits of my deviant imagination somewhere safer.

Like Mars or some distant asteroid, or more realistically a cloud drive somewhere.

Anywhere Mr Douglas would never, ever get access to it.

I’d had a close enough call for a lifetime already.

And at least one thing was clear in my dippy brain, finally, for once and for all, beyond any doubt I may be under while my fingers were playing twiddle-de-dumbass with my clitoris,

I really didn’t really want Mr Douglas to read my fantasies. Not in real life.

There’s no way he’d have invited me to hole up at his place if he had. He wouldn’t have allowed me within a fifty-mile radius of his personal space if he knew the filth I’d been dreaming up about him.

Jesse was grimacing with crossed fingers when I reappeared at my desk. I gave her a nod and wiped my brow and she let out a whoop that saw Lily jump out of her chair.

“Laptop fixed?” my confidante asked with a wink.

I gave her an almighty grin. “All fixed, no harm done.”

“Sweet,” she told me. “I left my personal email on a sticky note. Make sure you send the goods later.”

I felt like an asshole as I slipped that sticky note into a desk drawer with no intention of delivering, but I was turning over a new leaf.

A professional leaf.

Christmas at Mr Douglas place was a shining light in the bleakness of a very cruddy holiday season.

And I’d be good.

Really good.

I’d be enjoying a furry friend and Christmas songs and a couch that wasn’t lumpy.

And definitely not checking out Mr Douglas’s underwear drawer and snooping around the place for kinky sex toys.

Not once, not even for a little while.

I smiled to myself.

Okay, maybe one little peek, but that would definitely be all.

Happy Christmas to me.