Page 37 of The Grumpiest Elf

I’m fighting back my laughter as I give her a shocked and offended look. “Hypocrite much?”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry for calling you a dirty whore. Which also would imply that your partner is as well, and I don’t believe that.”

“Double standard,” I cough into my fist.

With another dismissive wave of her hand, she brings the conversation back around where she wanted it. “What were you and Lydia doing this morning that had you asking her to dinner?”

I contemplate the best way to answer that question. “How do you know I didn’t text her and ask her out?” It’s deflection, so I can buy time for my inner conflict to resolve itself. The desire to goad her is strong, but I don’t want to lie to my sister—especially when she’ll figure out the truth eventually—even if it’d serve her right.

“Isthat what happened?” she asks.

“No,” I grumble. “We worked the event last night with Mom and Dad.”

Another gasp, another backhanded arm smack. “Youarea dirty whore!”

“Jesus, Sarah.” I rub the arm she keeps hitting, though it doesn’t hurt at all, especially through my winter coat. “Will you quit hitting me? I’m starting to feel like an abuse victim.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Please. We both know I’m not hurting you.”

“Anyway,” I continue. “By the time Lydia and I got packed up and ready to go—you know how those kinds of events sometimes run hours longer than planned”—she nods in sympathy—“we were the last ones to leave. Between Lydia’s mom leaving and us, a tree came down and blocked the road. We had to stay the night at Hudgins House.”

“Wait, what?” Sarah grabs my arm, turning me to face her, all hint of amusement gone. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Ask Dad. I’m surprised you haven’t heard already.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Sarah. We’re both fine. Like I said, we stayed the night inside. Lydia’s mom left her with the keys to lock up when we left, so we were able to get back in. It wasn’t comfortably heated, but it was better than spending the night in the truck. We survived just fine.”

Her eyes dancing, Sarah gives a suggestive, “Mmhmm. I’m sure you did.”

Rolling my eyes, I smack her arm. “Don’t be gross,” I tell her as she rubs the place I made contact.

“Does Lydia know you’d hit a girl?” she asks, all faux pouty.

“Please. You’re my sister. You don’t count.”

That makes her laugh. “I’m sure Shane’ll love to know that I don’t count as a girl. He might disagree with you.”

Exasperated, I sigh and roll my eyes. “Yes, great, we know. You guys are madly in love and do it five times a day.”

“Oh my god,” she mutters. “Ow. And anyway, who’d have time for that?”

“Sarah.” Crossing my arms, I glare at her. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t discuss our sex lives.”

“Okay, fine. You win.” She points a finger in my face. “Quit bringing it up, though.”

“You brought it up first!” I protest.

The bell on the desk dings, and she gives me a glare, still pointing at me as she starts to walk away. “This isn’t over,” she warns.

But yeah, it definitely is. “Bye, Sarah!” I call as I head for the door.

“Dylan, wait!” But she’s busy with a customer, so I just wave at her scowl as I walk out, leaving her to it.

While arguing with my sister wasn’t what I’d planned on when I went in the Christmas Emporium, I do feel a certain lightness afterward, and when I check the time on my phone, I see I only have a few more minutes to wait for everything to close.

When I get back to Santa’s Workshop, Nora’s already placed the sign alerting newcomers that they’re closing while Dad finishes up with the lucky few who made it before she put that up.

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