Page 67 of The Grumpiest Elf

When I fold her legs back toward her torso, changing our angle, she gasps, and I know that was the right move. I keep her there, plowing into her with long, steady strokes as her fingers fly over her clit, her breath finding the cadence of her pleasure, and when she tips over the edge again, I follow her, her pussy milking my cock, her orgasm triggering my own.

After the last of the electric shocks peter out, I collapse next to her, pulling her close and kissing her shoulder, letting out a contented sigh, the words,I love you, pounding in my head in time with my heart.

So I wrap myself around her, hoping her heart understands the beat of my own, even if neither of us can voice it. Yet.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX

Lydia

Everything sucks.

Dylan’s been gone for over a week, and while we talk and text every day, it’s not the same at all.

The magical realm of Arcadian Falls has lost all of its charm for me. The Christmas lights are off, the ChristmasFest space sits empty, only the Christmas Emporium is still open, harkening back those halcyon days of Christmas cheer where everything felt like a Hallmark movie come to life.

It took me most of the first week to even start looking for another job, and that was mostly motivated by guilt when Mom would ask about my day each evening and seemed disappointed after the fifth day in a row where I regaled her with thrilling tales of sleeping until noon and camping out on the couch watching movies and eating cereal. So on day six, I set an alarm and got up before she left, ate real food, and left the condo, wandering downtown to see if there were any Help Wanted signs posted anywhere.

I’ve done that every day since, varying my route slightly in hopes that I’ll have missed a business that’s not on one of the main roads, because the main roads are populated mostly with restaurants and tourist shops, and this is not the season for that.

On Tuesday, I wander into the Christmas Emporium, more for the shot of nostalgia—can it be termed nostalgia when the thing you’re remembering was only a few weeks ago?—than because I expect to find a job there.

Sarah sits behind the counter, brightening at the sight of me. “Hey, there! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

I give her a wan smile. “Yeah. I’ve been …” I wave a hand vaguely, as though that’s some kind of excuse.

She chuckles softly, propping her elbow on the counter and her chin on her hand. “How are you holding up?”

I shrug, wandering past the displays at the front of the shop. There’s a section of 2023 ornaments on sale for half off. “I’ll survive,” I say in a voice that sounds like I mean the opposite. “Keeping busy?”

Another soft chuckle from Sarah. “It’s, as you might expect, a slow time of year for the shop. But yes, actually, I’m still busy. I catch up on all the things I couldn’t do during the crazy busy season once January hits. There are actually people who prefer shopping for Christmas decor this time of year, taking advantage of the discounts.”

I nod. “Makes sense,” I murmur, looking at a display of vintage style glass ornaments.

“Plus I can analyze our sales data, see what sold better this year, what performed worse, compare things to the previous years and how things did across the year as a whole, and make plans for the next year.”

Brows raised hopefully, I glance up at her. “Need any help with that by any chance? That sounds like a lot of work.”

She gives me a rueful smile. “Sorry. I already let my seasonal staff go. I keep them on a little longer than the elves, because people still buy Christmas things the week between Christmas and New Year’s, but it’s late enough in January I don’t need much help. Mom and Dad are mostly retired, but they cover a shift here and there when I can’t make it in, and I have someone who works weekends for me who’s been here for years. If you’re still around in the fall, though, I’ll keep you in mind.”

I bob my head, swallowing down my disappointment. I knew it was a long shot, after all. “Thanks,” I croak, and she makes a soft sound of sympathy.

“Hard time finding a new job?”

I shrug, touching one of the wooden ornaments on an end cap. “I just started looking a few days ago …”

She fills in the gaps from the way I trail off. “But after finding the elf job pretty much immediately, that feels discouraging I bet.” At my nod, she screws up her face, but then shakes her head. Picking up a pen and a pad of sticky notes, she sets them on the counter. “I can’t think of anyone off hand who’s hiring, but I can ask around.” She flashes me a grin. “Write down your number for me. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” I murmur. “I really appreciate it.” I scribble my number on the pad and pass it back to her.

She studies me for a moment. “Want to grab a coffee or something later? I close at five this time of year. You could meet me here then and we could walk to the coffee shop together.”

I open my mouth to say no, but then at the last second change my mind and nod. “Yeah. That would be nice.” I could use a friend in Arcadian Falls. Why not Sarah?

* * *

It takes longer to find a job than I was hoping—not until the second week of February. I see Dylan twice in that time when he comes home Friday night and leaves Sunday around noon. The visits are fast and furious and not nearly enough to leave either of us satisfied. Our conversations afterward always center on how short those weekends are and how we wish they were longer.

The whole time, I keep waiting for Dylan to bring up me moving to Seattle again since the chances of me finding a job there are much higher. I know he’s right, too, because I’ve looked. Granted, none of them are fabulous, but if I’m splitting rent and utilities with two other people, it might be doable. It wouldn’t leave a lot of room for saving, though. And that’s a big part of the reason I don’t tell Dylan about my job searches there. That and I feel like the only reason I’m even considering it is because I know it would make him happy.

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