6. Jackson
6
JACKSON
C rowding Ginger this way isn’t a smart move. Not if I want to maintain any semblance of professionalism between us.
It’s hard.
Especially when she purses her mouth like that, just begging to be kissed.
I lean in a little further, dropping my voice into her ear. “I dare you to try it on. Let’s see how it fits.”
Silence meets my challenge, and when I pull back to look at her, Ginger is assessing me.
Here I am, sliding down that balance beam toward inappropriate again. I can’t help it. She’s too much fun to mess with.
Lifting my hands in placation, I tease her with my grin. “All you need to do is say the word, and I’ll dig it out of storage.”
Her arms cross. “You mean to tell me, there are Christmas decorations in storage, and you didn’t mention this before?”
“You didn’t ask.” I straighten, loving the mock anger in her stance and narrowed eyes.
“Show me.” The look she gives me is a bit more serious. She’s back to strict work mode. Oh, this is going to be cute, I can just tell.
I take her to the attic, pulling down the stairs and waving her forward. “There’s a light string dangling right at the top. Head on up. I’m right behind you.”
That brow of hers rises again, like she’s caught me. Sure, I’ll get a good look at her ass. Not complaining there, but I’m more concerned with making sure she doesn’t fall in those heels.
She turns and grabs the stairs to lift herself up. The dark blue slacks are tight against her curves. My hands cramp with restraint, and I flex my fingers wide. I desperately want to grab onto her.
She climbs slowly enough that I swear she’s doing it on purpose.
God, this is ridiculous. She’s a young woman who works for me. Crossing that line is not good for either of us. But as she pulls herself over the edge, I start after her, making it up the steps easily in time for her to find the light and yank the cord.
The orange light makes her look more golden, more red. Her hair is haloed by the bright bulb. I stare at Ginger, her profile looking more elf-like than human. Her soft beauty promises me everything I might ask for.
Trouble. These thoughts are trouble.
I nod toward the rear of the house where a pile of five boxes sits around the window. “Christmas stuff should be back there.”
Ginger crouches, walking toward them and reading their sides before tearing into the top one.
The rest of the attic is packed with boxes for other seasons: Independence Day, Valentine's Day, Easter, and Thanksgiving. We will need the last one soon to set up for our annual Thanksgiving party.
Would Ginger want to plan that as well? If her homemade treats are anything to go by, there would certainly be great food.
I wasn’t the first to go back for a second helping—Brenda was—but I did get the last one.
Slowly, I make my way to the boxes beside her as she inspects everything. “Should we just take that all down to your office?”
“Not yet.” She’s up to her elbows in gold garlands, and they reflect sparkles of light onto her face.
“Afraid you’ll have to create an inventory of all of this?”
The way her eyes lift to meet mine sends so many chills down my spine. I have a feeling I will enjoy every second with her.
Turning away, I dig into another box, looking for the costume we spoke about until I remember having put it in a garment bag, for my ex-wife. It’s hanging on the wall in a dark shadow. I reach for it and present it to Ginger like a prize.
“Lookie what I found.” I swear her eyes narrow in suppressed delight. “I’ll just bring this downstairs for when you’re ready to try it on.”
Winking, I slink back and watch her dig into a new box before I descend the ladder. I bring the costume to my office and hang it on the back of the door. Now, I’ll play the waiting game. When she’s done with the boxes up there, she’ll make her way down here.
It doesn’t take long for me to hear the snap of the attic door closing. I finish up a few emails to advertisers before Brenda ambles in. “Are you staying late?”
“A little. I have a few finishing touches to put on, and a challenge to win.”
Her eyebrows lift. “A challenge? What are you and those boys up to now?”
I grin at her because, of course, she wouldn’t think of Ginger as the mischievous one. Not yet anyway. “Nothing for you to worry about, Brenda.”
She plants her hands on her hips. “You just leave that nice new girl out of it. Don’t think I don’t see all your tongues hanging out of your mouths.”
I hold my hands up placatingly. “She got nine proposals today, but none of them were from me.”
“Mm-hmm. Be sure you watch her get in her car. She stays later than I like.”
“Exactly. Girls should be out having fun with their friends. Not working themselves to an early grave.” Brenda’s huff is adorable, and she waves a hand at me. “Don’t linger too long. I’ll see you bright and early.”
“With bells on.”
She guffaws and leaves me to my waiting game.
It’s only another fifteen minutes before Ginger appears in my doorway. Her bright blue eyes are sparkling, and her cheeks are a little flushed as she crosses her arms.
I turn in my chair and lean back, folding my hands in my lap. “Yes?”
Those vibrant eyes narrow at me, like she’s about to drop a bomb on me. “Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
Ginger stalks forward and plants her hands on the arms of my chair. Fuck, she’s close. Sweet citrus and musk fill my nostrils, and I force myself to maintain her gaze. “Are you playing with me, Jackson Hayes?”
Fuck, I like how she says my full name. “What if I am?”
Her features harden, and she closes another few inches between us. “You’re going to get burned.”
Ginger’s breath fans my mouth, and the temptation to kiss her is hard to curb. I’m only able to keep this stalemate for another few seconds before I break. “It’s behind the door.”
After a short pause, she abruptly pulls away, and I feel a tug in my center that I don’t expect.
Taking the garment bag off the hook, she peers back at me before disappearing out the door. I take a few deep breaths before I follow, setting myself up at the kitchen counter as she changes in the downstairs half bath.
The door cracks, warm light spilling out before Ginger appears. She’s swathed in green. The furry white ruffle around the collar plunges just enough to show the expanse of her chest and the very tops of her breasts. It cinches together at her waist, accenting the red bottom of the tight, velvety dress.
It hits her mid-thigh, voluminous from the white tulle underneath. And by God, she put the stockings on, too. Candy cane stripes disappear under the tulle and make me want to lick my way up them.
Fuck. Before I know it, I’m advancing on her, needing to see if she’s put on the shoes, too.
She has. They are cute little green things that curl up at the toes and carry a bell.
The whole ensemble is sexy.
Catching myself just before we collide, I find one thing that is missing on the counter behind her. I grab it and hold it up.
She’s breathing hard at our proximity. I don’t blame her. I’m feeling a bit intense myself.
I gently place the hat on her head, tucking her hair behind her ear as I adjust it. The red brings out more of her freckles. They are sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. One has the same idea I do, nestled on the edge of her bottom lip.
We’re closer than we were in my office. Centimeters instead of inches.
I want to kiss her. The need thrums through my every muscle. For fuck’s sake, I yearn to feel her against me in the worst way. Her mouth parts as I stare at it, on the edge of giving in.
Ginger’s slender fingers tug at my tie, straightening it after a long day. It breathes memories into my chest. I haven’t had someone to do that for a long time. I haven’t had someone to help take care of me instead of the other way around.
Her touch gathers the fabric’s length before she drops it. It’s a good reminder to take a step back, which I do.
She looks like she has so many questions, but she doesn’t speak. A breath shudders out of me, and I back away to allow her the room to change out of the costume.
I start getting everything closed up and ready for tomorrow.
Closing my eyes, I still see her in that elf costume. It gets skimpier every time I envision it. Those stockings. I want them around my waist, rubbing my skin raw as I take her. In my imagination, my hands arelost in tulle as I grab onto her hips.
God, I’m torturing myself.
I open my eyes to Ginger in my doorway again. Once she’s got my attention, she strides forward and leans over the edge of my desk. There is an extra button undone at the top of her shirt and it gives me a good view of her breasts and her bra.
But my line of sight is impeded as she whispers in my ear, “If you like playing dress up or you like roleplay, you just need to say so.”
I suck in a deep breath. Fuuuck. I do. I absolutely want to play with her.
She retreats, leaving me with a waft of her perfume and blood raging down to my hardening cock. Pausing in my doorway, she half turns to show off the great curve of her ample ass. On her petite form, it’s all the more tempting.
The purse of her lips renews my daydreams of kissing her.
Then she drops one more bomb on me. “I could be into that kind of thing.”