Christmas from Hell
Page 59It really was the sweetest gesture, she decided as she threw her arms open and went to hug him only to cringe when a sickening crack rant through the air and Duncan grabbed his jaw, bent over and said, “Fuck it. I’m hiring a snow plow.”
A sneak peek at my special project #1
Fire & Brimstone
Chapter 1
“You're fired,” Lucifer bit out as he openly glared down at the small woman sitting across from him, silently daring her to argue with him, again.
Five goddamn long years he'd been trying to fire the woman staring back at him through deceptively innocent baby blue eyes and every single time she’d somehow managed to get out of it, but not today.
This time she’d gone too far.
“Yes,” he snarled at the little hypochondriac that missed more days than all his other employees combined, somehow resisting the urge to throttle the meddling woman that had made his life a living hell since the day that he’d foolishly hired her.
Her frown deepened as she glanced over her shoulder at the stack of boxes that had arrived early this morning. “Did they mess up the order?” She asked, having the balls to look adorably confused as she returned her attention back to him.
“You could say that,” he said, honestly surprised that he hadn't resorted to shouting at the little pain in the ass yet.
He glanced at the Coca Cola clock hanging above the door and noted that it was still early. It usually took her a good ten minutes or so to reduce him to monosyllabic words and incoherent rants yelled at the top of his lungs .
“Damn it!” She said, getting to her feet and shaking her head in disbelief as she walked over to the boxes that were being returned first thing in the morning and ripped open the box sitting by the door. “I was hoping we'd be able to have them by this Friday,” she explained as she pulled out a black tee shirt and inspected it.
“I'm sure you were,” he said dryly as he watched her inspect a few of the shirts and aprons in the box.
“I'm not seeing a problem,” she said with that damn small sigh of hers that always grated on his nerves as she returned her attention back to the shirts and started the inspection process all over again.
“Don't you?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair and-
“What the hell are you doing?” He demanded when the woman that he should have realized was crazy years ago, pulled off her off-white Fire & Brimstone tee shirt and tossed it on his desk, leaving her in a black bra that looked like it was struggling to keep the large pale breasts that she'd somehow managed to stuff in it from bursting free.
“Trying on the new uniform,” she explained with an expression that clearly told him that it should have been more than obvious what the crazed woman was doing while he sat there, watching helplessly as she reached up and adjusted her bra, wondering where he'd gone wrong.
It was in that moment that he would forever be grateful that he was an ass man, otherwise-
“Don't. Even. Fucking. Think. Of, it,” He bit out, stressing every syllable to make sure that she heard him.
She stopped unbuttoning her pants, opened her mouth to argue, but something in his expression must have clued the psychotic woman into the fact that he was seconds away from throttling her with his bare hands, because she released a long-suffering sigh that would put every man in his family to shame, and fixed her pants.
“I don't see the problem,” she said, gesturing to the shirt that she’d had absolutely no business ordering.
“That's because you're-where the hell are you going?” He demanded when she suddenly turned around and left without another word, leaving him just as he was about to fire her ass and bringing his rage to the homicidal stage
He sat there for another minute, refusing to chase after her. He'd planned on firing her in his office, had actually fantasized about it, and he was damn well going to do it in his fucking office. He opened his mouth to demand that she get her ass back in there so that he could live out his fantasy when the next words out of her mouth had him releasing a vicious curse and racing for the door.
He was going to kill her, he decided as he stormed out of his office and across the taproom to find the little pain in the ass showing everyone the uniform that she’d ordered behind his back.
“Oh my god! I love it!” Abigail, his bar manager, gushed approvingly, further pissing him off because there was nothing wrong with the fucking uniforms that he'd designed five years ago.
“It's about damn time,” Jeff said with a smile that quickly disappeared when he spotted Lucifer coming towards them.
“I think this will go a lot better with the new…,” Rebecca started to explain only to let her words trail off with a resigned sigh when he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. “Didn't we talk about the manhandling?” She asked as she settled in over his shoulder, getting comfortable as he walked back to his office.
“We need to have a little chat,” he said softly, deciding that there really was no need to yell and ruin this momentous occasion.
“Another one?” She asked, not sounding particularly worried as he carried her back to his office, pausing only long enough to kick the door shut behind him before he deposited his unwanted waitress in the rickety old chair he saved for just such an occasion and returned to his desk, satisfied that everything was as it should be.
He sat down, cleared his throat and opened his mouth to recite the speech that he'd been working on since the moment he’d realized his mistake when he'd hired her, but he closed his mouth and instead took a long, satisfying breath, deciding to savor the moment.