My Boss's Kiss Read online

  Only, of course I couldn’t let myself forget about Blondie at Mason’s locker this morning, looking all smug and sure Mason would come back to her. “He always comes back to me,” she had said so confidently.

  The thought made me shudder. It brought me down big time. I never wanted Mason to have to choose between me or her, ever, because she was totally, totally his type: older, wild and gorgeous.

  So … did I dare let myself truly hope Mason and I stood a chance?

  ***

  When I showed up at Mason’s front door, he eyed me up and down, making this low, throaty moan.

  “Thanks for the boots,” he murmured huskily with his new, shy smile. (I LOVED it—so much—Mason being shy. Swoon!!)

  Mason took my hand and led me into his house. The pure gesture itself made my pulse thump. Mason’s holding my hand! It was so sweet and romantic I felt dizzy.

  I cleared my throat, trying to remind myself I’d been on dates before. Lots of them. Tons, in fact.

  But none had been like this. Ever. Because this was Mason. And he didn’t do dates. So, all of this—this whole experience … it was magic. And warmed my heart.

  He whispered huskily in my ear, “You look appetizing.”

  His warm breath heated my skin and sent goose bumps skimming down my body.

  My heart kicked up to overdrive. I cleared my throat again. Oh man, am I going to pass out?

  “Everyone’s gone?” I asked, trying to be conversational and not—you know, hyperventilate just because he was holding my hand. But truly, I was seeing stars.

  “Yep. My aunt found a place,” he murmured, sounding pleased. “And Dad’s gone … wherever he goes.”

  He didn’t seem too concerned about it. In fact, not concerned at all.

  “You’re my family,” he whispered softly, kissing the back of my hand, then all of my fingers—each and every one—sending sparks of electricity through my entire body.

  The way he was acting—all eager and attentive—I was in heaven. Truly. I was hearing angels and everything. Holy Smokes!! This was the “couple Mason?” Me likey!!

  He led me into his cozy, small kitchen.

  His eyes watching mine, I sucked in my breath drinking in the romantic, candlelit dinner he had waiting for me. My heart pounded as I took it all in—the scrumptious looking dinner, and breathtaking scene. It was all so beautiful and thoughtful. So heartwarming I could have burst into tears. I’m not even kidding.

  My eyes welled up as I realized all the work he must have gone to. The great care he had taken. It made my heart melt like butter.

  I breathed deeply through my parted lips. So proud and impressed and … touched beyond words. At all of this—all of his beautiful, thoughtful, heart-stopping work.

  My eyes growing wide with excitement, I whispered in astonishment, “You made chicken crapes. That’s … it’s my favorite!”

  He breathed out a tiny little laugh. “I know. That’s why I made it.”

  “Mason,” I gushed in wonder, “it’s all so romantic.”

  His lips quirked. “I’m trying.”

  He made this glorious move, pulling out my chair for me. But then he stopped.

  “Wait, I forgot something,” he said.

  He ran upstairs, but the instant he was gone, there was a sharp knocking at his front door. I figured he couldn’t hear it, so I hurried to answer it—planning to get rid of whoever it was. Fast. So I could get back to enjoying my most romantic, wonderful date ever. Alone. Gobbling up all of Mason’s delicious attention, which was even yummier than his tasty looking dinner.

  However, when I opened Mason’s front door, my heart fell. Like a brick. Crash!

  There stood Miss Boots—all ten feet of legs. Practically.

  She scowled when she saw me. I mean, truly didn’t look pleased. At all. She narrowed her eyes, I guess remembering me from Mason’s locker today. “You’re who?”

  “Summer,” I stammered, wanting to slam the door in her face. Make her disappear. From my date. And Mason’s life.

  She narrowed her eyes at me even further, until they were hateful tiny slits. “Oh.” She scowled again. “He’s talked about you.” She shook her head in disgust. “When he’s won a game he talks about you a lot.”

  She seemed to be shooting me daggers with her eyes, going on disgustedly, “You know why he kept dating me? He said I smell like you—that’s why he likes me better than all of his other blonds.”

  Now her eyes were shooting me death-rays. ’Cause it seemed she remembered something else—something even more bitter. If that was possible. It made her lips twist into a hateful snarl. “Once when he was kissing me wild, I whispered his name. And then he whispered your name.”

  I choked on my soda. “My name? Really, he said my name?”

  She growled at my happiness.

  Just then, Mason came down the stairs. He saw the girl at his door and went pale.

  “Amber …?” He stared at her and blinked. Like he was shocked that she was here—at his house. In his life. Seriously, he looked completely baffled and confused.

  He tilted his head, frowning. Then his brow rose, “Girls fighting over me?”

  I huffed. “Isn’t that normal?”

  His voice went soft and husky, “You fighting over me, Summer? No. That’s not normal.”

  He dragged his gaze away from me and narrowed Amber another confused look. “What are you doing here, Amber?”

  She gritted her teeth, then let out a long breath.

  When she finally spoke, she sounded incredulous, like the thought was too impossible to believe. “I’m making sure you really know what you’re doing. You’re really choosing this—this high school girl over me?”

  Mason nodded, like there should be no question. “Yeah, I really am.”

  I blinked.

  A river of tingles raced through my body. I wanted to fling my arms around Mason and scream, “Yes!!”

  But I was too stunned. And amazed. Amber had seemed so confident at school.

  She narrowed her eyes now, glaring at Mason. Then she opened her mouth, like she was going to spout out angry scathing words. But no words came out, just an incredulous sound to her intake of breath. Then she snapped her mouth shut and stomped away, spouting swear words as she bailed down the porch stairs.

  My breath was caught in my throat as I gazed back at Mason. “You chose me?”

  He tilted his head, like I should know this. “Summer, it’s always been you.”

  My heart slammed against my chest.

  I had no idea what the future held for Mason and me—this new “we” or “us.” But I fell into his arms just the same, so ready to give us a chance.

  Mason held me tight. Whispering, “Finally.”

  Then he closed the door and carried me to his waiting table—and to our very first date, where he fed me chicken crapes … and promised me he’d do it forever.

  Be my date forever.

  My boyfriend forever.

  My soul mate forever.

  I guess what he was getting at was … he was my forever.

  Update notes:

  Mason’s best friend from the hockey team, Griffin Piper, is from Destiny Chase’s book, You Were Mine. (Co-written with Melanie Marks.)

  Summary of

  You Were Mine

  College-girl, Ally, has amnesia. Gorgeous hockey-playing bad-boy, Griffin Piper, seems to know her deeply buried secrets … and be a key part of her past. She’s drawn to Griffin, but afraid of him as well. Her parents warn her to stay away from Griffin—he’s dangerous. What secrets is he keeping from Ally? Not going to lie: Ally has some secrets of her own—she’s fallen hard for the sweet “bad boy,” and although he blackmailed her for a kiss, that dreamy kiss is one thing she CAN’T forget. In fact, now that’s all she can think about—Griffin’s hungry, unforgettable kiss. She’d like to get her some more of that.

  You Were Mine

  Is available now

  http://www.amazon.com/Y
ou-Were-Mine-PLUS-Catching-ebook/dp/B017HJGGEA

  Peek at:

  You Were Mine

  By Destiny Chase

  CHAPTER 1

  Holding my armload of books, I tried to punch in the combination code to my dorm door. When it continually wouldn’t open, I blew the bangs out of my eyes and gave it a stern talking to, with a few choice words.

  That’s when I heard the voice—during my stern lecture to my door.

  The voice was male and amused—and right behind me.

  “Need help with that?”

  My hands stilled. I snapped my mouth shut, going up in flames.

  Yeah, I’d been caught talking to my door.

  I winced, then slowly turned. Then about dropped my books, as I looked up into the most seductive, beautiful brown eyes I’d ever seen. (Oh my!)

  As I just gazed at the beautiful being, he grinned and asked it again, “Need help?”

  His eyes twinkling, he jutted his chin slightly, angling his head towards my door’s keyless entry. “Want me to open that for you?”

  “Oh, um …” I stammered, not sure what to say. I didn’t want to insult him, of course. But I also didn’t want him to know the pass-code to my apartment. Although he looked good-natured and (amazing!) still, he also looked somewhat like a “bad-boy.” Not exactly a criminal. Probably. But, well, you never know. So, though he was fantasy-inducing gorgeous, I didn’t want him to show up in my apartment unexpectedly. Though if he called first …. (No, ha! Just kidding. I wouldn’t go out with him anyway—even if he called first.) (But I’d fantasize about it.) (Definitely.)

  The guy grinned. He seemed to know what was going on in my brain. The whole dilemma. The exact reasons for my hesitation—that I thought he was absolutely dreamy, and would fantasize about kissing him forever … but at the exact same time, I didn’t want to give him my door combination.

  He didn’t seem upset about it though.

  “I don’t need the combo,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Purposefully not touching me (seeming to know I’d jump sky-high if he did), he gently, gently reached around me. Whoa! Instantly, I could feel the heat from his sizzling body. He was that close.

  To my shock though, having him so near didn’t make me shrink back or run away, which is what happens usually these days when people are so near. Instead, strangely, he made me feel … comforted.

  With deft skill, he punched in my door’s combination with lightening speed, then poof! My door unlocked. (!!!)

  Whoa!

  How’d he do that?!!

  My heart pounding, I stared at him with my jaw hanging open. I mean, I hadn’t been able to unlock the confounded thing—even when I had the combination right in my hands.

  I sputtered out, “How …?”

  The corners of his lips twitched another adorable grin. “It wasn’t magic,” he said, his voice kind of soft and husky, with just a tinge of laughter at my obvious astonishment. He looked away a moment. “I knew the girl that used to have this apartment.”

  Ohhhh. My heart plummeted with sympathy. He’d liked the girl. I could tell by his voice when he said that. It was slightly … heartbreaking.

  “You kind of remind me of her,” he said huskily.

  Curiously, that perked me up a little—despite him seeming sad. But geez, he seemed so sad. (Heart-wrench!)

  Trying to lighten the mood, I gave a little laugh and said (since he caught me being completely kooky and everything), “I remind you of her? Why? Was she a dork too?”

  “The sweetest dork you’ll ever meet. And the prettiest too.” He stared into my eyes.

  “I’m Griffin Piper,” he murmured, after me gawking at him with my lips in a permanent ‘O,’ and my heart going ahw. Because he obviously loved her—the girl that had owned this dorm room. I could tell by the heartbreak in his eyes. And in his voice. He missed her. Terribly.

  He closed his eyes a moment. Like he knew what I was thinking. “I have to go to hockey practice now,” he said softly. “’Bye Ally.”

  My heart exploded.

  He knew my name?

  CHAPTER 2

  I watched the charismatic being—Griffin—leave the dorm hallway, my heart slamming hard against my chest.

  Shaking, I wondered: Was I the girl I reminded him of?

  CHAPTER 3

  Trembling and perplexed I stumbled into my apartment.

  My brain had been playing tricks on me—cruel tricks—ever since I left the hospital. But that’s been over a month now. I thought I was getting better. But now—this encounter, this Griffin …

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember.

  I conjure up an image.

  It’s foggy … but I remember, sort of, a tall boy. When I came home from the hospital my parents had me stay at their house, and I would see him outside my window, standing out on the sidewalk by the street, watching the house.

  When I’d dare to peek out at him, he—he’d held up a sign to me:

  “You have a journal, Ally.”

  And once he had written: “I’m Griffin Piper.”

  CHAPTER 4

  A journal. I’d looked for one before, of course. Lots of times since I’ve been home from my parent’s. I start frantically searching again now.

  But as I rip my room apart, I get a brilliant idea. I text my best friend from high school, Jazz Nolan.

  “Do you know where I kept my journal?”

  It takes her quite a while to write me back—as though she’s hesitant. “I do … but I’m not supposed to tell you. Your parent’s orders.”

  My heart sinks, then it thumps, “Do I know a Griffin Piper?”

  She immediately texts back: “Your journal is on your computer, Ally. Your password is “Griffin.”

  CHAPTER 5

  As I read my journal, tears form in my eyes as memories come flooding back.

  … memories of Griffin.

  It’s like I’m relieving every glorious moment of knowing him.

  And yet it’s like I’m doing it for the very first time.

  Reliving Griffin …

  CHAPTER 6

  ALLY IN HIGH SCHOOL

  Ally in high school:

  Griffin Piper shut his locker, then did a double-take when he saw I was standing there, waiting for him. He tilted his head with his usual smirk. Only, it wasn’t exactly his usual smirk. He looked perplexed, but sort of happy too. It was like he was trying to figure it out, mentally scratching his head: Why would shy little Ally Grange be standing at my locker?

  He cocked his head further, quirking an eyebrow. “You looking for me?”

  I sucked in my breath and gave a slight nod.

  His lips twitched, obviously entrained by my discomfort. “What’s up?”

  I bit my lip. Good question.

  Tugging at the hem of my sweater, I took a deep breath, trying to summon up a little courage. I needed it. ‘Cause Griffin wasn’t exactly considered a nice guy. In fact, he was considered a terror on the hockey rink and not much different off it. And I wasn’t exactly Miss Confident when it came to mean people. I shied away from confrontation—any confrontation—and tormentors—at all cost, but here I was, seeking out Griff the Grief-Master.

  He smirked again, his eyes twinkling with a strange combination of curiosity mixed with amusement. “Just spit it out.”

  “Aiden Hanks,” I blurted like a cough. “He’s my …”

  When I choked again Griffin finished for me still looking curious. “Your boyfriend.”

  I nodded, surprised. I didn’t know Griffin knew that. I didn’t know he knew who I was.

  Griffin grinned, light dawning. He had definitely figured it out. “Oh, you’re here to beg me not to bash his face in.” He tossed his history book from one hand to the other, looking amused. “The twerp sent you?”

  “No!” I rushed out my next words to stop him from getting the wrong idea. “Aiden doesn’t know I’m talking to you.”

  He grinned. “Then why are you talking
to me?”

  “Because—like you said, I don’t want you to bash his face in.” I stared into Griffin’s twinkling eyes. “Please don’t.”

  I don’t know where that came from—me being brave enough to stare into The Griff’s eyes. Maybe it was because he kept smiling at me, acting like I was fun to talk to, or look at, or something.

  Griffin leaned against his locker and wet his pink (gorgeous) lips. He gazed at me intently a moment, then up at the ceiling. Finally he groaned, letting out a breath, and looked back into my eyes.

  “Look,” he said, for once sounding serious, “I have to. The punk talked trash about me in front of the whole team. It’s not like I can ignore it.”

  “Yes you can!” I said, following at his heels as he started to walk away.

  I said it again, all squeaky and desperate this time since he was ignoring me. “Yes you can!”

  Griffin kept walking, so I kept following, like a puppy dog begging for attention, yipping at his ankles.

  “Please, can’t you? Please?”

  I grabbed on to his arm out of desperation. That was all, just to get his attention since he had apparently ditched listening to me. But when I grabbed onto his arm he abruptly stopped walking. I mean, he froze.

  Yikes! My chest went tight. What had I done?

  Griffin turned back to me and stared at my hand on his arm. I snatched it away lightening fast, terrified he was going to hit me for touching him or being annoying or something. But when he didn’t push me down or pound me to the ground or do anything but stare at me with his swoon-inducing long-lashed eyes, I swallowed finally going on with my plea while I had his attention—only now I was shaking and unnerved on even more levels. I mean, The Griff was … hot. He was. I wasn’t really paying attention to that before, since I was pleading for my boyfriend’s life, but now that Griffin was looking at me like that—well, I noticed. And it distracted me, even now while I was petrified.