Wrap with love, p.1
Wrap with Love, page 1
contents
Introduction
Christmas Chemistry
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Insta Holiday
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
King’s Castle
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Oh Snowy Night
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Epilogue
Also by Ella Goode
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introduction
I'm kicking off the holidays with a bundle of sweet snowy festive reads! Four previously released classics from my backlist are now all in one click for a limited time!
CHRISTMAS CHEMISTRY
It’s time for the ho-ho-holidays and while this is one of my favorite times of the year, I’m feeling a little off. My mom has gone on a well-deserved cruise and I’m alone, starting a new position to be the assistant of famed researcher Dr. Nathan Amherst.
The department secretary says he’s terrible and they have to hire new assistants all the time which is why I’m starting at the end of the term. She’s all but begging me to overlook his bad habits and nasty temper.
I could’ve endured those things, but I wasn’t prepared to for him to be the science version of John Wick. He’s so gorgeous and so smart and I’m so attracted to him that I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off of him.
I need this job but it’s already in jeopardy—and so am I.
INSTA HOLIDAY
Tyson Carter has known Rory Carlson is the one for him since, well, forever. All through high school with every score, he hoped to impress her into his bed. Nothing worked. Rory has remained stubbornly resistant to his Carter charms but Tyson didn’t win all those championships through luck. He can be just as strong-willed as she.
Rory Carlson has two younger brothers, a household full of debt, and a derelict mother. She doesn’t have time for rich kid Tyson Carter who, despite all his sports achievements, has decided to be an influencer. It doesn’t matter to her that he has hundreds of thousands of followers. Does that put food on the table? Tyson is gorgeous, handsome and smart, but she needs someone she can rely on.
In this insta world, she wants something permanent. During this holiday season, can Tyson convince her that forever after is possible with him?
KING'S CASTLE
King built his fortress to keep people out, not in. After his abusive old man kicked the bucket, King took the family fortune and built a haven for women and children who needed protection. He has one rule and that is the women decide when they get to leave. When Hayden shows up, all his self-discipline goes out the window. He’s ready to risk it all to keep her…even against her will.
Hayden came to find her sister—not a man—but one look at King has all her female parts kicking into high gear. He’s autocratic and demanding and everything she shouldn’t like but she can’t help being attracted to the soft heart he keeps hidden. She should run away but every moment she spends with him has her wishing that her home could be the King’s Castle.
OH SNOWY NIGHT
Oh! Snowy night the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the lumberjack’s big fall
Long lay his heart in eternal slumber
Till she appeared and his soul felt enthralled
A thrill of hope the romance world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious tale
Swipe open your Kindles
And read the latest story
Of the slight surly Conn
And of Faith who brought new hope
christmas chemistry
It’s time for the ho-ho-holidays and while this is one of my favorite times of the year, I’m feeling a little off. My mom has gone on a well-deserved cruise and I’m alone, starting a new position to be the assistant of famed researcher Dr. Nathan Amherst.
The department secretary says he’s terrible and they have to hire new assistants all the time which is why I’m starting at the end of the term. She’s all but begging me to overlook his bad habits and nasty temper.
I could’ve endured those things, but I wasn’t prepared to for him to be the science version of John Wick. He’s so gorgeous and so smart and I’m so attracted to him that I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off of him.
I need this job but it’s already in jeopardy—and so am I!
one
DR. NATHAN AMHERST
“I don’t need an assistant.”
“Too late. She’ll be here in about ten minutes. Don’t be a dick to her, or the university will pull your funding,” Rachel, our department secretary, warns.
With disgust, I toss down my pen and glare at the older woman over the top of my glasses. “I never asked for an assistant, and therefore, no one should be upset when I fire her.”
“You can’t fire her. She’s an employee of the university and was hired by Dean Campbell.”
“Then she can go service Dean Campbell.” I pick up my pen and return to re-reading my paper on rapid growth hydroponics for retail consumers. Most efficient hydroponic farms are thousands of square feet big. This new prototype I’m developing could be installed in kitchen cabinets and grow everything from tomatoes and lettuce to berries and oranges. Imagine never having to go to the grocery store again—the utter dream. I hate shopping and try and get delivery whenever I can. Usually it just takes a small bribe.
“See, that’s just the type of attitude that is going to result in a lawsuit. This is a bio technology graduate student, not a sex worker. You can’t treat her like one.”
“Meaning I shouldn’t treat her like a bio tech student or a sex worker? Your pronoun references two possible objects.” There’s not enough in the paper about the labor and transportation costs. I need to run a few more numbers and scenarios. Abandoning the printout, I switch over to the computer and pull up the database. It’ll take hours to crunch some numbers, hours that would be better spent on researching. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Dr. Amherst. Did you hear what I said?”
“That I can’t fire the assistant? Yeah.” I wave my hand toward the door, wanting Rachel to get out and leave me alone so I can work.
“No. I said that the south elevator—you know what? Never mind.” The door bangs behind her when she leaves.
I shake my head. People are always mad around here, and I have no fucking clue why. If everyone did their work and left all the other people alone, we would all be happier. I should put that in the suggestion box we have in the breakroom. No socializing during work hours. In fact, the breakroom itself should be abolished. I nod emphatically to myself. Brilliant idea. I switch to a document program, type up my suggestion, and send it off to the printer. On the device is a paper copy of the latest headhunter inquiry. Dr. Amherst, I get so many inquiries as to whether you’d be interested in moving to the private sector. Not only are the benefits and pay better, but the R&D budgets would make a grown scientist weep. Give me—I crumple it and grab my breakroom breakthrough. I’ll drop it off on my way home tonight, thereby avoiding people in the breakroom, delivering my recommendation, and leaving work all in one efficient economy of movement. With that problem solved, I reapply myself to my work. I’m deep into grams per growth and total dissolved solids, or TDS as we call them, when the phone rings. I let it go to voicemail, but it rings again. And again. By the fourth loop, I realize that the person is not going to give up. It’s probably Rachel calling to remind me of some faculty function that I will be blowing off.
“Yeah?” I bark into the phone.
“Your assistant is here. I’m sending her in. Remember! No lawsuits.” Rachel hangs up, and five seconds later, there’s a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I sigh. A quick survey of my office has me pushing my hand through my dark hair. It’s a disaster in here, and the second desk near the door is covered with papers. I walk over and start to clear things away—and by clear, I mean shifting the piles of paper on the desk to the floor. She can sort through things. After all, isn’t that why they are giving me an assistant?
The door creaks open. “Dr. Amherst.”
I don’t bother looking up but instead gesture her toward the desk. “Yes. This is the right place. This is your desk.” I knock a fist on the top of the wood. “Did Rachel give you a computer? Just set up here. Sorry about the mess. I guess that will be the first task for you. Once you’re done, I have some modeling you can do. You do know how to do that?” I raise my head and lock eyes with a goddess. An orchestra starts playing in my head. Sunlight in the dank office appears to surround her. If Rachel were to arrive and tell me that this person dropped from the sky and there are a pair of wings in the south lawn, I’d nod in acceptance. That would be a perfectly reasonable explanation.
“I’m really excited to be here, Dr. Amherst. I’ve read all your work.” She holds out a small, delicate hand. Her middle finger, slightly longer than the rest, houses a small ring with a pearl mounted in silver or platinum. My eyes shift left, and there’s a weird sense of relief that floods me when I clock that her ring finger is empty.
I nod my own greeting and move out of the way, knocking over a big pile of research. “Fuck,” I curse. I bend down. She bends down at the same time. Our heads strike each other.
She lets out a yelp of surprise or maybe it’s shock. Shit. I grab her head between my hands and steady her before she can topple backward onto her ass and knock down more papers. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She rubs the back of her head. A small smile spreads across her face. “I told my mom this morning I was going to make an impression on you. I should’ve specified that I wanted it to be a good impression. I’m really not this clumsy.”
“You’ve succeeded.” I cup the back of her head and feel for a knot.
“In what way?”
There’s no sign of injury, but I’m reluctant to let her go, reluctant to stand. What I want is to draw her into my lap, kiss her senseless, and then make love on the floor amidst all my research. Somehow, though, I think that falls under things I shouldn’t do because it might end up in a lawsuit. Rachel tried to warn me.
With a sigh, I force myself to let go and stand up. “You’ve made an impression all right.” I force myself to flee to the window. As I gaze across the short distance between her desk and mine, I realize how fucked I am. Maybe I should just write her a check now and get it over with because by the end of this term, she’s going to own everything I have in my bank account as well as my heart.
two
KAYLA
Dr. Amherst is definitely living up to some of the rumors I’ve heard about him. I wouldn’t classify the one claiming he is antisocial as a rumor anymore. It’s definitely true. Or at least that’s how it seems, anyway. He’s not rude as some of them have said.
Anytime I ask him a question, he doesn't get irritated, but he also doesn’t make an effort to add to the conversation. He makes sure to answer quickly for me, though. It’s me doing most of the talking. His answers are straight to the point. He hasn't even asked me my name yet. I’m not sure if I should bring that up or not.
I actually worried over this before I got here today. I’m a talker. I can’t help myself. I even talk to myself as I work. People often get annoyed by it. I knew it would be something I’d have to get under control if I were going to be working directly in his office. I don’t think Amherst would appreciate me rambling on all day. I don’t want to annoy him or have him fire me.
Rachel told me if he did fire me to ignore him and keep working. That made me even more nervous. I repeated the words in my head as I made my way to his office this morning. Over and over again. You will not be a chatterbox. It clearly hasn't worked.
I move a giant stack of now organized papers over so that I can start cleaning up something else. This place was a mess. I’ve gotten some of it looking presentable. I was more than happy to clean it up a bit. I am already learning a ton. Some of the papers have little handwritten notes on them from Amherst. I guess in a way he talks to himself too. Instead of saying the words out loud, he simply jots down his thoughts. Maybe we’re not so different after all.
Anytime I see his handwriting I stop to read the note he put on the page. I can’t help myself. I would probably have more done by now if I wasn't stopping to read so much. Not that it takes me long. I have always been able to read quickly and still maintain the information.
“Do you always do that?” I look up from the paper in my hand to Amherst. His dark hair is now a mess from his own fingers. The man looks nothing like one would think a scientist would. He’s built with broad shoulders, and he has at least a foot on me. His jaw looks like it could’ve been chiseled out of granite. My mom said he looked a little like a younger, annoyed John Wick. The picture they had online of him only showed his face, as if someone had forced him to take it. I’m guessing it was probably Rachel.
“Do what?” I ask, looking around. Did I do something wrong?
“Talk out loud when you work.” He looks at me like he’s studying me. I’ve noticed that he glances over at me a lot. I’m guessing it’s to make sure I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” I quickly apologize. I’m sure the doctor is trying to work, and I’m making it harder with my mouth. “It’s a habit. I’ll do better.”
“No, it’s fine. I rather enjoy the sound over the quiet.”
“Do you always do that?” My eyes travel from his handsome face to his hair. It’s sticking up in a few directions right now. I think it’s kind of adorable. His dark eyebrows furrow together, not knowing what I’m talking about. “You run your fingers through your hair a lot.”
“No.” His answer is to the point. We stare at each other for a long moment because to me it feels as if his response should have contained more words. I thought maybe I'd get something along the lines of I didn't realize I did that or Yes when I’m thinking something over. But all I got was a simple no.
My stomach lets out a loud growl. It’s being noisy too. I flush with embarrassment. I was too nervous to eat breakfast this morning.
“I haven’t fed you.” Fed me?
“I think you meant that you haven’t let me go to lunch?”
“No. You can’t eat here. The breakroom food here is not good. I’ll order something to be delivered to us. We can eat in the office while we continue to work.”
“You don’t have to do all that. I saw that there was a vending machine in the breakroom. It’s not a big deal really.”
