2. Chris
2
Chris
“Sir–”
“Call me Chris.” I look at my cute assistant and watch her squirm in her seat. We’re only a few miles from her parent’s home, and she’s the most nervous I’ve ever seen. “If you want this to work, you’ll have to meet me halfway, Willow .”
I love saying her name. I love how her lips part, and her eyelashes flutter whenever it rolls off my tongue. If I didn’t think it would appear unprofessional, I’d say her name out loud as often as I can get away with it. Every time I needed something, it would always be Willow, this and Willow, that.
Her brown waves bounce as she nods her head. Never wearing it down like this, I’m fighting between staring at the road and counting each strand. Is it too early to start acting? I’d kill to reach over and pinch a couple just to see how soft they are.
Instead of caving to such a tempting thought, I focus on the empty fields surrounding us.
To think this woman considered bringing a random man here, one she’d meet over the internet. The thought alone is enough to bring a fiery heat to my chest. Like a red-hot iron grip around my lungs, letting her do something so careless and foolish would’ve eaten at me unless I did the right thing.
Now I’m here in a rental with one hell of a plan to act out.
“Chris.” She says my name slowly, testing out how it feels in her mouth. I’ve heard it possibly twice in the year she’s worked under me. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
She’s right. Hearing it in her tone of voice is making my jeans feel tight. I don’t wear them often enough, but I don’t think they’ve shrunk in size. No, it’s my cock thinking it can stiffen whenever it pleases.
Usually, I have a desk to hide how I feel about Willow. Now, I have to hold back a little. Wait until we have an audience before I can really play the part she wants me to.
“I told my mother all about you, sir.” She settles back in her seat, the habit of breaking out of her role is difficult for her to kick. “She’s very excited to meet you. I’m sure by this point, she probably thinks you’re as real as an imaginary friend.”
“Do I need to know anything to prepare? Any characteristics I’m not aware of?” My eyes glide over to her and I catch a light pink hue to her cheeks.
“No, none of that. Just act like yourself.” She chews on her bottom lip and doesn’t give me any other details.
Act like myself? As far as I’m concerned, I want her parents to like me. While I’m playing a part today, who knows who I’ll be to them in a few months or years? Maybe I want to be a real son-in-law. If I act like myself, they may come to dislike me. Most people do.
“Thank you for doing this, Mr. Fletcher. I know this isn’t exactly your idea of a Thursday, but I owe you big time.”
I don’t want her to feel like she owes me. I’d rather she see me as someone she can come to whenever an issue like this comes her way. With a broad shoulder, she’s got plenty of room to lean on when she needs it.
Grunting, I nod. Making this easier for myself by looking at the GPS instead of her appreciative smile, I see we’ve reached Fairland. Fairland is hardly a small dot on the map, so it’s no wonder I didn’t know of Willow’s existence before she was selected from three other candidates for the assistant position.
When the device warns us we’re reaching our destination, I spot a small farmhouse planted on an acre of land. Peering at the house, I try to picture Willow coming from it. I’ve only ever known her for her blouses and pencil skirts. Something tells me a place like this doesn’t have many people like us roaming out and about.
“I’ll warn you, my parents are very loving. Be it to those related or not. They’re very welcoming.” She grimaces a bit. “You can’t yell at them if they do something you don’t like.”
“I can handle myself, thank you.” Shutting off the vehicle, I don’t take her warning seriously enough. With no intention of making Willow look bad, I plan on being on my best behavior. I can handle people, even those who aren’t like those I typically deal with daily. “I don’t yell at people.”
She sucks on her teeth, grimacing at my statement. “If we’re pretending you’re not my boss right now, then I think I may be honest with you. You do.”
“If you’re pretending to be my girlfriend, then you need to stop calling me sir. You’re going to give your parents the wrong impression.” Being honest with her, I’m surprised by how quickly her cheeks grow dark.
What I would do to know what she’s thinking, especially now.
Nodding her head in agreement, she shoves her door open and hops out with nothing else to add to this minor disagreement.
I do the same and circle around to open the trunk. Accessing our luggage for the trip, I’m reaching to grab Willow’s without a second thought. In my head, I wouldn’t want her lifting even a single finger when I’m at her side.
The screech of a screen door catches our attention, and I spot a short woman appearing. She’s confused at first, but as soon as she spots Willow, her face lights up like a beacon.
“Oh, boy.” Willow takes in a deep lungful. “My mother.”
We both watch this woman make it down a set of creaky steps before darting over toward us.
“Careful, don’t slip. There’s plenty of ice–”
Despite the warning, her mother makes it over to us and steals the breath from Willow’s lungs as she wraps her arms around her frame.
Willow’s smile is breathtaking as her mother squeezes her so tight. Soon, she groans as she fights for her next lungful of air. “Missed you too, Mom.”
She mentioned how long it had been since she had seen her family in person. I’ve kept her so busy at work that it’s no wonder an entire year has passed.
Once she’s pulled away and looks at me, she blinks a few times. “ You’re Chris?”
Is it really that unbelievable? Now I really want to know what kind of person Willow described me as.
Grunting as the short woman throws her arms around me next, I realize I’m being hugged. For a moment, I’m not entirely sure what to do. Finally, I pat her back with hesitation. Can’t say I’m huge on getting touched by strangers.
Does my assistant really think I’d yell at a sweet woman like her mother? The thought is almost enough to make me crack a smile.
“Mom, stop, ” Willow grows more pink as she looks at me. Mouthing an apology, I hit my limit and chuckle under my breath. I can survive a simple hug, even if they’re foreign.
“I’m sorry, it’s just been so long, and gosh, look at you. He’s real, and you look healthy and–”
We look at each other as she continues on and on through what I hope isn’t the start of happy tears. A hug is one thing, but consoling a weeping woman is not something I’m ready to handle.
Introducing herself as Chelsea, she invites us inside and warns that Wynter has already arrived. I notice the way Willow’s smile tightens.
“We’ll be inside in just a moment.” Willow pops the trunk, her hands pulling out the few extra bags inside with a small huff as Chelsea starts her way back inside the house.
“Wynter?” Leaning close to her, I see a rare shift on her face.
“My sister.” For a moment, she frowns. “My younger sister, who is already happily married off to the man of her dreams.”
Is that jealousy dripping from her words?
“Getting married isn’t a race,” I remind her as I grimace at the truth behind the words when it comes to my case. I’ve been single for most of my life, turning down any offers with the knowledge that my money has an enormous influence.
“Between us, it is.” Sighing, she soon gasps when I pluck everything from her fingers. “All I’m saying is I wouldn’t be surprised if she pressured my mother into demanding that I bring you here with me.”
“It sounds to me that I should persuade someone else entirely of this little ruse, Willow.” Leaning in a little too close, she turns to look at me, and her chest swells with a lungful of air. “Well, should I play the role to the best of my ability?”
When I see a shiver roll through her body, I feel it, too. I’m simply teasing her, or I should be. I don’t want to overstep and be the reason she’d no longer see me as boss material. That thought, and the warnings that go with it go right out the window when she runs her tongue along her bottom lip and nods.
“Yes.” She meets my gaze and gives me another one of those knockout smiles. “Chris. Be the best boyfriend you can be.”