Page 20 of Daddy's Christmas Elf
Yet maybe he did owe the little dog for his untimely appearance. What if he’d had made the move he’d come so close to, and Grey had rejected him? Eli’s stomach clenched and his skin crawled with the cringing, imagined embarrassment of such a miscalculation. Even if Grey didn’t ask him to leave, he’d have had no option but to go.
Eli put his hand out for another slice of pizza, the motion automatic, but the platter was empty except for a few crumbs and a smear of grease. He’d no idea how many slices he’d eaten. Opposite him, Grey smiled down at Trevor who, unnoticed by Eli, had returned, and now lay on his back exposing his belly for Grey’s tickles.
The fringe of Grey’s dark blond hair fell forward. His profile was strong and chiselled, and more than handsome enough to grace the pages of a men’s style magazine. He looked relaxed and at ease, more so than Eli had seen before. If anything had happened, would that have still been the case? As he watched Grey play with Trevor, Eli didn’t know if he was brave enough to put it to the test.
CHAPTERTEN
Alone in the kitchen, Grey leaned against the glass doors leading out to his snow-filled garden as he waited for the kettle to boil. Fat flakes tumbled from the sky, adding yet more inches to the already banked-up snow.
He was looking without seeing, because all that filled his head was Eli leaning into him, his soft mouth slightly open, the tip of his pink tongue stroking his damp lower lip. And his eyes… Grey’s stomach clenched hard. One green, one smokey grey, they’d been blazing at him. Not that there had been much iris to be seen, as midnight dark pupils had devoured all their colour. Just as he’d wanted to devour Eli. It had taken all his strength, all his willpower, not to knock Eli’s hand away and pull him up from the table and drag him upstairs to his bed.
Grey sucked in a long, slow breath as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the glass. Want, need, and desire had consumed him, and he’d taken Eli’s wrist not to steady the younger man’s hand, but to steady himself.
Pouring water into the waiting mugs, Grey tried to concentrate on making the tea, but he was powerless to stop his thoughts returning to Eli, who was waiting for him in the living room.
“Don’t even think about it,” Grey muttered to himself as he gave one of the bags a vicious stab, sloshing tea over the side.
Eli was here, in his house, under his protection. Grey might not have lost him his job with the events company, but Eli had lost it due to one of Grey’s employees. Or ex-employee. He owed Eli some form of recompense, but what he didn’t owe him was some kind of proprietary advance. It would make him no better than that slimeball Murray.
But… Grey’s hand slowed and then stopped. The way Eli had looked at him, eyes glazed, pupils blown, and that long slow sweep of his tongue… Eli had swallowed hard, and not just once, and his breath had picked up, almost to a pant. Grey swore he’d heard Eli’s heart rate quicken. In those few seconds he’d known, with every jangling nerve in his body on high alert, that Eli had wanted him as much as he’d wanted Eli.
Yet… Grey stared down at the mugs. If he made a move, would Eli feel he had no choice but to respond because he had no other option? And what would Grey see in those breathtaking, heart stopping eyes? Regret, reproach? Powerlessness? Grey’s stomach tightened, knotting his insides and making him wince. No, he wouldn’t put Eli in that situation, but he wouldn’t put himself in it, either.
Rummaging in a cupboard for a box of mince pies his PA insisted he have — the rest of the contents from a huge hamper sent from a client had been divided up amongst the admin staff — Grey loaded up a tray and took everything through to the living room.
On his knees in front of the crackling fire, Eli was playing with Trevor who’d reverted back to the playful puppy he’d once been. Eli looked up and smiled, his eyes widening as a grin spread across his face.
“Mince pies. What a good idea. You can’t have Christmas without mince pies. Or decorations for that matter.” Eli glanced around the living room as he got up and sat on the squashy sofa next to Grey. “But at least you have a tree. If you can call it that.” Eli wrinkled his nose, and looking over at the collection of twigs propped up in the corner, Grey had to agree.
Grey had blinked at the two delivery men who’d appeared at his door in the previous week. He had an annual order with the company who’d supplied it, the same one who supplied the office tree, and Grey had forgotten all about it. With its brutal minimalism, it hadn’t been his choice, but his suggestion of something more traditional had been derided as little more than unimaginative and boringly suburban. It was cold and ugly, and as he glowered at it, Grey had no idea why he’d accepted the delivery and put it up; as soon as Christmas was over, it would be going to the recycling centre.
“I’ve got a food delivery coming tomorrow morning, which will contain more than a few concessions to the festive period.” Grey hoped talk of Christmas treats would pull Eli’s disdainful attention away from the tree. He was right.
Eli’s face lit up in a huge grin. “Turkey? Christmas pudding? Brandy butter? And sprouts? Please tell me you’ve got sprouts?” Eli laughed as he took one of the little pies Grey offered him. “Ohhh, these are good. So buttery and sweet.”
Grey’s gaze dropped to Eli’s lips, where a few golden crumbs clung before they were swept away by the tip of a pink tongue. Forcing his gaze away, Grey picked up his tea and took a gulp, wincing at the lava hot liquid. He cleared his throat.
“Not turkey, because I wasn’t expecting company. And definitely no sprouts.” He shuddered. “But yes to the rest of it. Stollen, too. I’ve even got a bottle of advocaat on order so I could make eggnog.”
“Wecan make eggnog. Ilurveeggnog. In fact I make the best snowballs on the planet. Hope you’ve got those syrupy little cherries, too?”
Grey laughed at the bright hope shining on Eli’s face. Eli was almost bouncing with excitement. Deep in his chest, Grey’s heart squeezed and clenched. Wasn’t this how Christmas should be? Brimming with eagerness and anticipation? So different from last year’s, when everything had come tumbling down around him.
“Yes, got those coming too,” Grey answered, as he cleared his rough, dry throat.
“Excellent. This is turning out to be a real Christmas after all. So much better than what I had planned.” Eli’s joyous smile slipped from his lips as a frown wrinkled his brow. Grey fought to urge to smooth it away. “I was going to experiment with a pile of pizza and tuck into Benny’s stash of artisanal vodka he thinks I don’t know about.”
Eli shrugged as his lips curved downwards, and Grey felt a surge of anger for the so-called friend and his arsehole boyfriend; Eli needed a distraction, and quickly.
“So tell me about your love affair with pizza. Pear, nuts, and honey aren’t the usual suspects.”
Eli concentrated on his tea, averting his gaze. Grey narrowed his eyes. Was Eli looking… shifty?
“It’s my mission to try out as many topping combos as possible. Same for jacket potatoes. It’s what I call market research.”
Eli glanced across at him, settling for a moment before flitting away like a nervous butterfly. Intrigued, Grey couldn’t help asking.
“Why?”
