Page 25 of Daddy's Christmas Elf
“You okay?” Concern flared in Grey’s eyes and his voice, as his warm, strong hands held Eli still.
“I’m fine. Must have been more tired than I thought,” Eli mumbled, his words disappearing in a yawn. “It’s not been my usual twenty-four hours.”
“For either of us,” Grey said, so quietly it could have just been for himself. “Let me give you a hand upstairs. Don’t want you falling.”
Falling? But maybe it was already too late to stop him. The thought was evasive, slipping away before Eli’s sleepy head could grasp it, as he let Grey steady him and support his weight as he led him out of the living room and upstairs.
CHAPTERTWELVE
As soon as Eli stumbled into bed, his brain played a cruel trick and woke up.
All he could think about was Grey’s story. A wedding he refused to get out of, no matter how much he didn’t want to go, and an ex-husband to face up to. Eli ground his teeth together at the thought of Grey toughing it out, all because attending was theright thingto do for his friend. It was crazy, but just another piece of evidence of how decent the man was.
Decent, kind, principled… Strong, decisive, in control… Good looking, hot, and sexy as fuck… Grey Gillespie was the perfect package, everything Eli yearned for in a man but never got.
Eli stared up at the ceiling, his head on his folded arms, mentally ticking off his exes. Most had been arseholes in one way or another. There had been a couple of guys who’d treated him with something approaching respect, leading Eli to believe they could be more, but when it came down to it none had wanted to stay around after the first few fucks that always left him feeling emotionally empty even when the physical itch had been well and truly scratched.
Eli swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat, as his fingers massaged the skin over where his heart lay…Too needy, too clingy, too subservient. Words, and others like it, that had been thrown at him in one way or another by the men who’d drifted through his life. He wasn’t those things, because those words made him sound weak and weedy and he wasn’t. How could he be all those things when he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and stand his ground, or at least most of the time? Eli sighed. He was, he supposed, a people pleaser, but that wasn’t such a bad thing — was it?
He rubbed harder at the soreness he imagined in his heart, his fingers moving in ever decreasing circles. No, he wasn’t weak because he fought life every step of the way even though there were times when it dragged the strength from him, leaving him to wonder if he had enough left to carry on the fight.
His fingers slowed, then stilled. What was so wrong in wanting a man of his own he could rely on, a man who’d gladly take some of his weight and support him when he needed another’s strength? A man who’d hold him upright to stop him from falling when life pulled the rug from under his feet? A man who’d wrap his strong and protective arms around him, as he told him he had no need to worry, that he’d be taken care of?
“Grey wouldn’t be like all those others,” he whispered into the darkness.
Grey would treat the man in his life with thought and consideration, with care and respect. He’d protect and cherish. Hadn’t he already done that, by taking him in, by making sure he had everything and more he needed? Eli could get used to a man like Grey… He could get usedtoGrey. The sudden, hard jolt in his chest sent a twitch down the entire length of this body.
No. No use thinking that way…
As soon as Benny was back, he’d be leaving and waving goodbye to Grey forever, as he worked out what he was going to do next. His time here was a blip in the flat line of his life.
Eli shifted again as his thoughts raced. He needed to thank Grey, to show his appreciation for all he had done for him, and was continuing to do. A smile tugged at his lips, but it fell away. There was one, very obvious, way but if he made an advance and Grey rejected him or even worse, thought Eli was trading himself as payment… Eli shivered, as ice settled in his gut, and froze his blood.
Yet, there had to be something he could do to show how much and how deeply he appreciated what Grey was doing for him, something that would make this Christmas good for Grey.
Christmas. There was very little sign of it in the house. A stark tree that looked like a bunch of twigs, and until he’d insisted they put them up, a pile of cards discarded on the side. Grey needed some brightness in his life, some warmth, even if only for a few days. Eli smiled as a plan began to take shape.
At last, his eyes closed as sleep stole over him. Christmas… There was time, time to make it a Christmas neither of them would ever forget.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Eli surveyed the garden as he held Trevor, hugging the small dog to his chest as though he were a furry hot water bottle. The kitchen was warm and filled with the savoury aroma of bacon and eggs, the yeasty smell of sourdough toast, and the underlying sweetness of almond croissants. Breakfast had been wonderful — the only problem was, he’d eaten it with only Trevor for company. The note Eli had found, propped up on the kitchen table over two hours earlier, had been apologetic: Grey was shut away in his home office, dealing with an unexpected work issue that couldn’t be ignored or put off. His firm may have closed for Christmas, but Grey was very much open for business.
“I’ve got a plan, Trev,” Eli whispered. “I’m going to bring a bit of the spirit of Christmas into this house, and Grey’s going to help me.”
Trevor looked up at him, his dark eyes as impenetrable and unreadable as Grey’s could be. Eli smiled down at the dog, who answered with a good tempered bark. Eli turned his attention back to the garden. It’d stopped snowing, but the sky held a promise of more for later. It would give them time — but only if Grey wrapped up his work soon. It was already getting along for 11.30am, and daylight would be fading fast by mid-afternoon.
The door bell’s sharp ring made Eli jump and Trevor barked and wriggled to be set down. The bell rang again a moment later as though whoever was on the other side of the door was quickly growing impatient. With no sign of Grey, Eli went to answer it.
“Mr. Gillespie?” the harried looking man on the step asked, a large collection of carrier bags by his legs.
“No, but—”
“Just taking a photo to show your order’s been delivered. Run out of delivery boxes.” The man gave a brief nod to the bags as he took the photo then turned on his heel and slipped and slid his way to the van. A second later he was gone.
“And a Merry Christmas to you, too.”
In the kitchen, Eli unpacked the bags. Amidst the normal groceries there were plenty of concessions to Christmas. Mince pies, lots of them, and a pudding. Eli’s heart dropped. A Christmas pudding for one. He put it aside and dug some more. Stollen, cream, and brandy butter. Chocolates. Eli smiled; Grey shared his own sweet tooth. Duck breasts — no turkey, not even for one, Eli remembered. Ready prepared pigs in blankets and sage and onion stuffing. Eli dug further, and chuckled. No Brussel sprouts. Advocaat and lemonade, and a jar of syrupy maraschino cherries. There were more than a few hints of Christmas, but Eli was going to make sure a whole lot more were added.
