Page 11 of Daddy's Christmas Elf
“Trevor. You called your cute little dogTrevor? What did he do to warrant such a heinous punishment?”
Grey shrugged. “It seemed to suit him.” It hadn’t been his choice, but Eli didn’t need to know that. “It’s too late to change it now, because it’s what he answers to. And anyway, it could have been worse. He could have been called Kestrel.”
Eli huffed. “Touché. I have no idea why I told you my middle name. I never tell anybody.” Eli’s brows scrunched together as though the admission was a revelation not only to Grey but to himself, too.
A young man with a laughable middle name bequeathed him by hippy parents, a man who Grey reckoned must be a good twenty years younger, if not more, than his own forty-three, and who’d come into his life dressed as an elf…What’s your story, Eli?With a longing that grabbed at him, Grey wanted to know more about the boy who sat in his kitchen. Instead, he let Eli get on with the soup as he pretended to make himself busy, wiping down surfaces his cleaner had left pristine and sparkling.
“That was great, thank you.”
Grey looked across as Eli bent down from the waist, his hand outstretched towards Trevor. The little dog was nervy, and looked between Grey and Eli, indecision in his big brown eyes. Grey opened his mouth, about to tell Eli attempting to coax Trevor over to him was a lost cause, but his eyes widened as the dog made his careful way across the kitchen and sniffed Eli’s proffered hand.
“What are you when you’re not being an elf? A dog whisperer?”
“I grew up with dogs, and various other animals. As for being an elf, that particular career path is now closed to me. But I’m not sorry about what I did to that creep, although it does mean I’ve lost out on a good booking for New Year’s Eve with Jolly Eventful. You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you Trevor?” Eli cooed, as he gently stroked Trevor’s smooth fur. “Disco Divas.”
“Excuse me?”
Eli tilted his head and grinned as he looked up at Grey.
Impish.The word fizzed in Grey’s head. Or maybe elfish. Or maybe not.
“Disco Divas, the theme of the party I’m now not working. Along with all the other waiting staff, I was going to be dressed up in gold hot pants, with a wig to represent a well known diva. Cher, Diana Ross, and such like. Oh, and this was the piece of brilliance Jolly Eventful particularly prided itself on.” Eli sat upright as Trevor wandered back to his cushion in the corner of the kitchen. “We’d all be on roller skates as we whizzed around with trays of drinks.”
Grey wrinkled his nose. “That sounds horrible.” Except for the gold hot pants.
“Yep, but the decidedlyunjollyMs. Sheena Jolly was paying over the odds for specialist skills — a.k.a. balancing a tray of lurid cocktails whilst swishing around on skates. Everybody had to audition for the privilege. It was like one of those cyclist proficiency tests, where you wobble and weave around traffic cones. I passed because I’m a red hot roller skater. The whole thing was a fiasco, but by the end of it as long as you remained upright you got the job. Most couldn’t. One girl broke her ankle. That old bag Sheena didn’t think about that when she binned me off tonight. I’ll take great delight in telling her where to stick her diva wig and roller skates when she calls, begging me to come back. Or I would, but my phone’s been nicked. Except I wouldn’t tell her any of that, because I need the money seeing that dreams don’t come free.” Eli yawned. “Sorry. It’s just that it’s been a long and eventful day.” He snorted. “Yeah, eventful and anything but jolly.”
“Yes, yes of course.” Grey threw aside the cloth he’d stopped pretending to use. “Go up if you want. As you say, you’ve had a day of it.”
Eli pushed his chair back. “I will. Goodnight. And goodnight to you too, Trevor.” He smiled over at the dog, curled up in the corner. “And thank you.” Eli looked back at Grey. “If you hadn’t have come back, I’d have been stuck. Or arrested, given my luck today.”
“Sleep well.”
“I fully intend to.” With a quick smile, Eli was gone.
Grey pulled a bottle of scotch from the back of one of the cupboards. Pouring himself a drink, he nursed the tumbler between his hands. As he cradled his drink, Grey wondered what those dreams of Eli’s were, and whether or not he’d get the chance to find out.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“Oh, shit.”
Holding aside the heavy curtain, Eli stared out over the huge garden, blanketed by a thick layer of snow.
As soon as his head had hit the soft pillow, he’d fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep, the best he’d had in ages, but with morning had come a cruel reminder that his position hadn’t changed from last night. Letting Grey persuade him to come back with him had only delayed what he had to do, which was to get back into the house. It also meant putting that bloody horrible elf suit back on. Perhaps Grey would let him keep the clothes he’d leant him, just for now?
Eli let the curtain fall back as a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
Grey stood in the doorway, and Eli’s stomach did a somersault. Christ, Grey had looked good last night, all expensive sharp suit, shiny shoes, and perfectly knotted tie. Corporate and buttoned up, not a hair out of place, the guy had been pure suit porn — but Eli liked the version of Grey who now stood before him just as much.
Dark jeans, which sat on him just right, and a torso hugging T-shirt in the same dark blue shade as his eyes. With the hand that wasn’t glued to the door knob, Grey pushed his fallen forward dark blond hair from his brow, making it stick up. Yes, Eli liked this version of Grey; it was a definite case ofThisorThat,and Eli was stumped over which to pick.
“I hope you slept well?”
“I did. Thank you.”
“Good.”
