Page 34 of The Grumpiest Elf

His lips part, and I follow his lead, sliding my tongue against his, tilting my head for a better angle. He growls, a low sound that rumbles out of his chest, vibrating against my own.

Then he’s shifting around, taking me with him, lying us down on one of the cushions, his lips never leaving mine. His hand roams up and down my side, slipping under the hem of my sweater, and he chuckles when he encounters the soft cotton of the cami I’m wearing beneath it, his laughter ending our kiss.

With his forehead pressed to mine, he opens his eyes, his face taking up my entire field of vision, and I have no complaints. It’s a beautiful face—high cheekbones, level brows perfect for scowling, a bump in the bridge of his nose that makes him imperfect enough to be relatable and interesting, that square jaw that flexes every time he gets impatient or frustrated, and warm brown eyes that study me with naked lust tempered by genuine affection.

Since when does Dylan actually like me?

The lust isn’t surprising. We’ve both been physically attracted to one another all along. But affection?

Before last night, if you’d asked me how he feels about me, I’d say he thinks I’m annoying but manages to tolerate me, and I do my best to stay out of his way to make it easier on him.

Was last night enough to shift that into actual fondness?

I suppose it was for me. Because Ilikethis version of Dylan, the one who laughs and jokes and kisses me like a man dying of thirst in the desert.

“We should clean up and get out of here,” he says at last, his voice still low and rumbly, but soft like he’s trying not to break the spell of us lying here wrapped around each other, even our legs twined together.

I must make some kind of unhappy face, because he lets out another soft chuckle, his hand cupping the back of my head as he brushes a kiss across my lips. “Not because I don’t want to keep doing this—I definitely do—I just think we should do it somewhere …”

“Warmer?” I supply when he seems to have trouble finding a word. Because despite his closeness, once out of the blankets, my extremities have started to become chilled again, and not that I expect we’d be wanting to remove our clothes already—I don’t think I want to move that fast—I’d definitely prefer somewhere above sixty degrees.

Another soft laugh. “Yes. Warmer. More normal.” Rolling onto his back, he looks at me and scrunches up his face. “Just … better.”

He does a sit up, curling upward, then stands, holding out a hand to bring me to my feet. Once I’m upright, he pulls me close and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, making me aware that my hair must be sticking out everywhere. Mornings aren’t my best time. It takes a bit of water and hair product to tame my hair so it’s not standing on end. But Dylan doesn’t seem to find it ridiculous. “After we put everything away, I’ll take you home. Then maybe we can meet up later? For dinner or …?”

“Dinner sounds good,” I say, lips curling in a smile. “I’m working this afternoon, though.”

Dylan’s eyes widen. “Shit. We really better get you home then. You might want a nap before you have to go in.”

His finger slides along my jaw, tipping my chin up so he can brush one more chaste kiss over my lips, and when he steps away, I can’t help covering my mouth with my fingertips like I’m trying to capture the feeling of his kiss. Our first kiss seems to have unleashed something in Dylan, and now he doesn’t want to stop kissing me. Not that I’m complaining.

I don’t linger, standing there watching him with my hand over my mouth, partly because I don’t want him to think I’m a weirdo mooning over him and partly because he’s already folding up the blankets. I need to help put everything back in order.

It doesn’t take long to get the cushions back on the couches and everything else put away. I text Mom that we’re able to get home now and that I’ll be there soon while Dylan takes a call from his dad checking up on us.

He does one last scan, making sure everything’s put to rights, then he holds out a hand to me. “Ready?”

Somehow his question feels like it’s about more than just heading home. Like taking his hand and walking out is a turning point, and this’ll start a new chapter in my life.

Maybe I’m being overdramatic—it wouldn’t be the first time someone thought so—but I realize Iamready. I’m ready for new things and to see where life takes me. Where this thing with Dylan might go.

Nodding, I grin at him and take his hand, walking into the winter wonderland together.

* * *

I’m loath to get out of the truck when Dylan drops me off outside of Mom’s condo. We spend a stupid amount of time kissing and saying goodbye and him telling me he’ll see me tonight.

Finally, after ten minutes of this, I open the door and slide out, turning to wave at him before I go inside.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home,” Mom says, standing from the couch and wrapping me in a hug as soon as the door closes behind me. “I was so worried.”

I return her hug. “I was fine, Mom. Hudgins House might not be set up for overnight guests, but we managed. I’ll need to replenish your snack drawer, though. And whoever’s lunch meat and cheese was in the fridge. But we had food and shelter and blankets, and even though it was a little chilly, we weren’t trapped outside in the snow.”

She steps back, giving me room to take off my boots and coat, and offers me a relieved smile. “Thank god for that. And don’t worry about the food. I’ll replace everything. Stephanie wouldn’t care anyway, especially since you two were trapped.” We must’ve eaten Stephanie’s meat and cheese.

“Now.” Mom gives me a meaningful look. “How was being trapped with the coworker you dislike the most?” My cheeks heat, and I let out a rueful chuckle that has Mom’s brows raising. “It sounds like there’s a story here. Let’s have some coffee. Did you eat anything for breakfast? How does French toast sound?”

“That sounds great, Mom. How about I take a shower while you make breakfast, and I’ll fill you in when I get out?”

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