Page 58 of The Grumpiest Elf

It’s a bad idea, though, for lots of reasons. Number one, we work here. That on its own should be enough, though I’m not sure it would be if not for number two—I don’t have a condom on me.

I never thought I’d be wishing I could have sex at work, after all, so why would I? And even though I knew we’d be spending the evening together, since our options for privacy are so limited, I also knew there’d be no way we’d get to have naked time. Not tonight, anyway.

Tuesday is only a few days away, I remind myself for the five hundredth time.

Last night only seemed to whet my appetite for her, though. Now that I’ve been inside Lydia, experienced the combination of sweet and sexy that she pulls off better than anyone I’ve ever met—largely because it’s not an act, it’s just her—I only want her more. Anywhere and any way I can get her.

God, when she stopped me from buttoning my jeans, I was nearly lost. Iwaslost, if only for a few moments. It’s a good thing she dresses in such a way that it’s impossible to get to her skin, or else I’d be balls deep inside her right now and we’d have to be much more concerned about the possibility of an intractable toddler on the horizon.

Sighing, I lean against the wall and let my head drop back against it. We either need to go somewhere we can get naked, or we need to go somewhere that’ll kill this boner that won’t quit.

When she emerges from the locker room, her purple hat pulled low, her short dark hair peeking out from beneath it, the sight of her takes my breath away. I can’t believe she’s mine.For now, a voice in the back of my head reminds me.

I don’t want to think about the fact that I’m leaving, about the reality that long-distance relationships don’t work that well, even if the distance is only a few hours. The fact that she’s uncertain how long she’s planning on staying here doesn’t help.

Maybe she could move back to Seattle and get a job there if she doesn’t want to go back to school, a more hopeful voice suggests.

That does seem like a possibility, doesn’t it? Yeah, her mom’s here, but Lydia’s an adult, so it’s not like she needs to live here. If she hadn’t had such a bad time of it last semester, she’d be away from home anyway, right? And there are more job opportunities in Seattle than there are in a town of two thousand regular residents, especially during the off season.

I tuck that thought away as I put on my own coat, wrapping her in my arms for a kiss like we weren’t just making out in the locker room five minutes ago. I’ll talk to her about it later, maybe closer to when it’s time for me to go back to Seattle. For now, we have time. There’s no need to bring up problems that can wait for later.

* * *

I spend each evening with Lydia after we’re done working, sometimes after spending all or part of the day working together, and it’s blissful torture. I can’t touch her like I want to because there’s nowhere we can go to do it, and for three days all I can do is chantTuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday,to myself.

It’s not ideal, but it’s definitely better than nothing. I’m halfway tempted to ask my family to let me have the house for a while, but I know that won’t work out in my favor. Even if my parents would do it, there’s no way both my siblings and Olivia would clear out just so I can have the house to myself and Lydia for an hour. And with the ChristmasFest schedule, Mom, Dad, and Nora have every right to want to relax at home afterward too.

Sarah sidles up to me at the counter at Santa’s Workshop on Monday evening. She has to wait several minutes, because we’re totally slammed, but there’s enough of a break between me finishing with one family and the next parents approaching that she can bump me with her hip. “Hey,” she says quietly, her eyes darting toward Lydia. “How are things?”

Chuckling at her attempt at being stealthy, I whisper back, “Good. How are things with you?”

She waves an airy hand. “Oh, you know. Busy.” Her eyes dart toward Lydia again. “Are you inviting Lydia to the family dinner on Thursday?”

“Oh, uh … no?” I glance that direction too. “I mean, no one said anything to me about a family dinner, so I haven’t asked her since I didn’t know about it.”

Sarah’s eyebrows jump. “Oh. Mom must’ve forgotten, but since Ty and Olivia are here, Shane, and Sophie and I are coming over for dinner on Thursday. I assumed you’d be there, of course, and that you might bring Lydia too.” She bites her lip, glancing side to side and lowering her voice so much that I have to lean in to hear her. “Look, this is super awkward.” Her cheeks flame. “And I know we don’t get involved in each other’s … intimate business.”

“Sarah!” I hiss, trying not to laugh, both at her word choice and at the completely inappropriate time to talk about this.

“I’m just saying,” she continues, ignoring me, “Mom and Dad’s house is full of people all the time, and Lydia’s living with her mom, right?” At my nod, she nods decisively. “Right. My old house is empty. Here’s a key.” She sets a key attached to an Arcadian Falls souvenir keychain in front of me on the counter. “Clean up after yourself. There’s no furniture. But it’s private.”

And then she’s gone.

* * *

Despite the key to Sarah’s old house burning a hole in my pocket—the house next door to the one she now lives in with Shane that they’ve been renting out—I don’t use it Monday night. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that it would almost seem like a letdown after all the anticipation of waiting for Tuesday or if it’s because I know Lydia would be disappointed if I canceled our Monday plans, but I don’t mention it.

Instead, we pile into my car and I drive us to Inglewood where we catch a late showing ofWhite Christmasat the movie theater there. They’re showing a rotating schedule of classic Christmas movies all month, and when Lydia told me that she grew up watchingWhite Christmaswith her grandparents as a kid, I knew we had to go.

After buying us popcorn and sodas, Lydia settles into the seat next to mine, a wide grin on her face, and while I might not care about this movie at all for its own sake, I’m smiling just as widely because she’s happy.

It’s a fun movie with catchy tunes and some funny jokes. When Bing Crosby’s character refers to Danny Kaye as a weirdsmobile, I lean over to Lydia and whisper, “I’m going to start calling my siblings weirdsmobiles.”

She laughs and nods. “Sounds like a plan,” she whispers back.

After the movie, I take her home and we do our usual thing of making out in my truck until the windows are getting foggy and the people who live there are probably wondering why I’m parked out there for so long. That or they’ve figured out I’m dating Lydia and know exactly why we’re out here for so long.

With a glance at the clock, she gives me a rueful smile. “I should go inside,” she whispers, her lips swollen from our kisses.

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