Chapter 4
ICLYN
I sit at my desk, fiddling with the assorted glitter and paper scraps strewn around me. The office is still buzzing with the usual hum of laptops and the clatter of coffee mugs, but today, there’s a different energy crackling through the air. I refuse to let anyone sour the festive spirit.
“Okay, team,” I call out, bursting with excitement. “I’ve got a fantastic idea. We’re having a Christmas card competition.”
My coworkers raise their eyebrows, some looking mildly annoyed, others amused by my enthusiasm.
I flash a grin that could rival the brightness of the twinkling lights strung across our windows.
“Each department creates their finest, most creative holiday card, and we’ll display them all in the lobby.
Whoever gets the most votes by the end of the day wins a prize! ”
Standing in the far corner office doorway, Brinker grumbles softly, his gaze holding to me and making me feel almost… naked.
“Isn’t that a bit childish, Iclyn?” he mutters, barely loud enough for me to hear. But I can see the corner of his mouth twitch. He’s fighting it. His icy exterior is cracking just a bit.
I accidentally drop a container of glitter and it poofs into the air. “Even you have to admit that some fun could do us all good. Besides, don’t you want to show off your artistic skills? I bet you have a hidden talent for design.”
He scoffs, but I catch him glancing at the tiny mistletoe I hung over the breakroom doorway last week, just because it makes me smile every time someone scoots quickly under it.
He sighs. “I think my artistic skill lies in stocks and bonds, not paper and glue.”
“Please,” I insist, practically bouncing in my seat. “You won’t regret getting into the holiday spirit. I promise.”
With a reluctant sigh, he finally relents. “Fine, I’ll join in. But don’t expect anything fancy.”
“Perfect.” My heart sings as I clench my fists in triumph.
The office chat turns electric as people divide up in groups.
I can’t help but steal glances at Brinker, who sits across from me, glaring at a bunch of sparkly markers, as if they’ve personally offended him.
I share reassuring smiles, the kind that make my cheeks ache, but he doesn’t seem to respond.
As the hour drags on, I work with my group from marketing, planning and executing our card. We decide on a snowman theme, and everything feels so vibrant and alive. Glitter shines in my hair, and I lose track of time as I belt out silly Christmas songs, pulling everyone into singing along.
But every so often, I can feel Brinker’s emerald eyes on me, and a little tingle trickles down my spine. It’s like he’s both annoyed and intrigued by my antics at the same time.
While I scurry around, trying to find some more mistletoe I can borrow for later, I bump right into him coming out of the breakroom as I’m going in for a quick refill of water.
Never needed caffeine to keep this holiday elf going.
“Whoa, watch where you—” His words trail off as we barely miss connecting, our faces hovering just a breath away.
The air crackles between us, a spark of chemistry I didn’t expect. I find myself lost in the depths of his gaze, those evergreen eyes cutting through the mundane office lighting, holding a tense mixture of surprise and something deeper. My heart skips a beat, making me lightheaded.
“Mistletoe,” I manage to whisper, pointing up to the little sprig swinging innocently above us.
The holiday decoration dangles there like a guilty secret, and in a flash, the tension shifts, filling my head with laughter— the absurdity of the moment brightening my cheeks.
“Are we really caught under that?” he asks incredulously, a hint of amusement lacing his words, his mouth curving into a grin that makes my stomach flutter. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Looks like we don’t have a choice.” I tease, my courage swelling like the holiday spirit itself. “What’s a little holiday cheer without a quick peck, right?”
He raises an eyebrow, and I can't help but bite my lip, the thrill of the dare igniting my pulse. My laughter fades, transforming into something charged, almost pulsing between us. I glance at the mistletoe again, the tiny leaves hovering as if they’re holding our fates suspended in time like the ribbon the door frame.
“Only a peck, Iclyn?” He leans a bit closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, sending shivers racing down my spine.
There’s something in his tone that makes me rethink my bravado. It’s not an invitation. It’s another challenge.
I smile and my heart races with anticipation.
“Maybe more,” I breathe out, the words tinged with a daring boldness I didn’t know I had.
He inches closer, and suddenly the world around us fades away.
The hum of the office is distant. My breath catches as he places a hand gently on my waist, fingertips brushing my skin through the fabric of my shirt.
The warmth of his touch spreads through me, a fire igniting deep in my core.
My heart pounds loudly in my chest, each beat echoing a thrill I’ve never experienced.
Our faces inch closer, and as he tilts his head, my own eyes flutter shut. Tension crackles, electric. I can feel the warmth radiating from him, enveloping us.
And then —finally— our lips meet. It’s tentative at first, a soft brush of warmth that ignites every nerve ending in my body. His lips are surprisingly soft. I think he’ll pull away, but he doesn’t. I melt into him, an intoxicating mix of sweetness and urgency builds.
Time seems to stretch and bend in the space of this type of kiss. It’s a swirl of surprise and unspoken promises. I lose myself in the taste of him, the scent of cedar and something distinctly him— a familiar, comforting scent that makes my heart race.
The world fades, and I forget about the office, the work, the holiday chaos outside. It’s just us. Wrapped in our own bubble of warmth, laughter, and what feels like it was meant to be.
As we pull back, breathless and wide-eyed, his gaze meets mine, sparkling with something profound.
“Well,” he says, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, “that definitely wasn’t just a peck.”
“No,” I reply, laughter bubbling up again, my heart full of mischief and newfound possibilities. “Maybe we’ll have to explore this holiday cheer a bit further.”
He opens his mouth to say something, and there’s nothing I want to hear more.
“Hey, boss,” Jenna from HR slips around the corner and her heeled boots come to a clopping halt. “Um… I… I’ll come back later.”
Shit.
His eyes widen, and with her appearance the moment shatters like a glass bulb on a wood floor. He clears his throat and takes a giant step back, the wall of ice surrounding his heart becoming a glacier. His hands drop from my waist. I miss them.
Jenna spins on her heels and head back to her cubicle.
“We should stick to cards and glitter,” he says firmly.
I back away. “Alright, Mr. Grinch, but you know where the mistletoe is now. Be careful.”
With a small but stubborn grin, he watches me return to my group and I can’t help but feel the heat of the unexpected tryst lingering in the air. The office may be filled with glitter and cheer, but it’s the simmering tension between us that truly defines this holiday season for me.
The day rolls on, filled with laughter, friendly sabotage from Brinker, and a spirit of mischief all around. And amidst it all, I can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this year’s holiday cheer might crack through Brinker’s icy exterior after all.
Challenge accepted…