Page 26 of Grinchland
His eyes practically bugged from his head. “Nope. No way. I am not wearing one of those tacky sweaters.” He brushed down his sweatshirt. “I have an image to uphold. Besides, I like my clothes.”
I gave him another once-over and shrugged. “Eh. They’re boring.”
“I’m okay with boring.”
I grinned at him. “For now. Give me a few days and you’ll be singing a different tune.”
He eyed me and then glanced around the kitchen. “Does your holiday tradition include eating an obscene amount of popcorn?” He nodded toward the overflowing bowl in front of him.
“This is for the second portion of the night.”
“There are…portions?”
I nodded. “Yep.” And then, without thinking, I reached forward and grabbed his hand so I could guide him to the living room, where the night was going to start.
At first, touching him felt natural. But when I started moving and he didn’t, I paused and glanced back to see him standing there, stiff as a board, staring at our hands. That’s when I realized what I’d done. I instantly dropped his hand and took a step back.
“Sorry,” I muttered. There were two emotions going through me right now. I was trying not to be embarrassed that I might have overstepped. That reaction paired perfectly with feeling offended that he was so disturbed by my touch. There had to be huggers in his life. A large section of the population liked physical contact.
Silas stretched and clenched the hand I had grabbed before he glanced up. “It’s fine,” he said.
That was an obvious lie. He looked like he was trying to exorcise my touch right off his skin. It made me feel so good.
“Won’t happen again,” I said and then decided the best move was to just pretend it hadn’t. I kept a good three feet away and waved for him to follow. “Come with me.”
I led him into the living room. He stayed near the doorway while I walked further in. As soon as I got to the bins of decorations, I took the lid off the first one. When he didn’t approach, I glanced over at him.
“Come on,” I said before I chuckled. “I’m not going to bite.”
He looked like he didn’t believe me, but after a few seconds he approached. “What are we doing?” he asked cautiously.
I pulled out the Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus gnomes and held them up. “We’re decorating.”
His expression was deadpan as he stared at me, and then at the bin. “Was this your plan all along? To have me be your little elf?” He folded his arms across his chest.
I just smiled. “My little elf?” I asked, loving that he was using a Christmas analogy with me. I felt triumphant. It meant I had already begun cracking his icy exterior.
His cheeks reddened as he held up a finger. “What, no,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
I held up the gnome couple and started to slowly turn around the room as I looked for the perfect place to set them. “And yet”—I sighed and tipped my head—“you did.” And then inspiration struck.
The second shelf in the bookcase next to the TV was the perfect place for these two. I gave him a knowing look as I passed by him.
I could see that he was fighting with himself, so I continued decorating while he came to terms with the effect I was having on him. Finally, he seemed to have given up trying to deny what he said and slowly stepped up to the bin. He shuffled some of the items around like he didn’t know what to do.
“Hey, hey,” I said as I took the porcelain teddy bear wearing a Christmas scarf with presents at his feet from his hands. I’d had enough of Silas manhandling him. “Be nice to Cinnamon.”
He watched with equal parts curiosity and horror as I gently set Cinnamon down in the palm of my left hand before bringing him up to eye level.
“Cinnamon?” he asked.
I nodded and glanced over at him. “What? You don’t name your Christmas decorations?” I brushed off the top of Cinnamon’s head and then blew on him a few times.
Silas looked at me like I had two heads. “No.”
“Right, because you don’t have Christmas decorations,” I said. I walked toward the shelf that the gnome couple was on and set down Cinnamon. “That’s kind of a prerequisite.”
Silas folded his arms. “Even if I did have one, I wouldn’t name it.” He shook his head.
