Page 97 of The Holiday Grump
“Then I’m just as bad because it turns me on.”
Something sparked in his eyes. He pushed me onto my back, his weight solid above me. “What did you want me to do? Tie you up and fuck you like I mean it?” The words sounded strange on his lips, like his body rejected them.
I smiled. “Could you? Pretty please?”
“You… delinquent,” he whispered, his voice tender and eyes liquid with emotion.
He pinned my wrists above my head and lowered down to kiss my neck. My breath hitched, and heat rushed through me.
Maybe we’d both get our hearts broken, but this moment was worth any future pain. I was mesmerized byhis transformation. From all the arguments and agreements to this moment of surrender. A leap of faith. I wanted this moment more than I cared about what came after. The future was probably fucked anyway, and it felt good to narrow my vision. It was just us, lying on a rug by the fire, his weight on top of me, his eyes soft and playful as he took his time. I was desperate for him. Desperate to feel as close as I could, with nothing between us.
For the rest of the night, we didn’t check our phones. We didn’t discuss the videos, photos, or what was happening in the town chat or on the internet. Maybe we both wanted to escape and feel intact, for as long as we still could. The fallout of that night’s events was already in motion. I knew it. He knew it. It was as inevitable as the snow coming from the sky. But we still had time. We could still play house a little while longer.
Early the following morning, when I woke up in his bed, my leg wrapped around him, I remembered something.
“Fredrik. Fredrik.” I nudged his side.
“What?” He pulled me into him, kissing my forehead.
“Can I use your kitchen to make fifteen pounds of pulla?”
CHAPTER 31
Fredrik
She’d really meant it. Noelle had bought giant sacks of flour and sugar, enough butter to clog a thousand arteries, and turned my kitchen into a commercial bakery. She’d called her sister on the landline to confirm the family recipe and borrowed a commercial-grade mixer from someone I didn’t even know.
“I promise I won’t get in your way! I’ll bake when you’re not around, and we’ll host this thing outside the Christmas store so that it won’t affect the bookstore,” she said, trying in vain to hide her mountain of supplies.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “It’s temporary anyway.”
I wasn’t even sure I cared if it was permanent. I loved the smell of cinnamon and cardamom that drifted through the house. I loved her. Those words had started sneaking into my mind at random moments, filling my chest with a glow.She was everything I hadn’t known I was missing. And the more she threw herself into town events, the more hope built in me.
Maybe she’d stay. I couldn’t be everything to another person, but perhaps she’d find whatever she needed in Hideaway Harbor.
So far, I’d kept my thoughts to myself. Jackson was right. Pushing her to make a choice or handing out ultimatums was not the answer. She was scared and unable to see the life we could have together, the one I now saw glimpses of.
I needed her to relax in my home. She wouldn’t even slide a bottle of lotion into the bedroom drawer I’d cleared for her but kept her things in two canvas bags for what she called our “sleepovers”.
I only had myself to blame. My knee-jerk reaction to her store makeover, plus that stupid friends-with-benefits agreement, must’ve convinced her I couldn’t handle even a nightstand out of place. Or maybe she was already planning her exit, and I was too blind to see it.
The thought terrified me, but I wouldn’t let it ruin what we had. Forcing answers was never going to work. I had to be patient.
We led very different lives that somehow fit together perfectly. While I pushed snow, split logs and sat in my armchair re-reading an old book, she’d crocheted Santa hats for the caroling event, and weird-looking vaginas for the adult toy store. But whenever we were in the same room, we gravitated together. If I lay on the couch, she climbed on top of me. If she stood in the kitchen, I snuck up to hug her from behind. I couldn’t get enough of her.
She never pushed me to join her at any event, but I camealong anyway, to see her delight and excitement. We’d celebrated the day school was out with Kailee, taking her out for hot chocolates at the Sip. I even joined Noelle at the caroling event and the Woolen Sock Run. I had to admit, Hideaway Harbor put on some entertaining functions. The more I showed up, the easier it felt, even with the long looks from the locals.
I knew there were videos online. Rumors were circulating. But so far, nothing had come of it, and we were happy in our bubble, stealing every available moment to be together, keeping each other warm at night.
And now Noelle was ready for Pulla Appreciation Day with fifteen baskets of sweet Finnish cardamom bread—braided loaves and rolls she’d baked all night. My kitchen had never been that hot. When her boss said no to hosting the event at the Christmas store, I offered to host it outside my bookstore instead. Technically, her store had to stay open according to her contract, but since Kailee had already finished school, she could manage it for the day.
“You don’t have to do that,” Noelle told me as I gathered a stack of baskets to load them into the car. “Being able to use your kitchen is enough.”
“Don’t be silly.” I shoved the front door open with my shoulder. “It’ll be faster this way.”
When we reached the bookstore, my sister was already waiting with trestle tables. The morning sun was bright, but darker clouds loomed on the horizon. I hoped they stayed back.
Noelle ran ahead to greet Felicity, helping her unload the van. I carried baskets, but she insisted I could leave oncethe setup was done. She was still worried about forcing me into uncomfortable situations, but she didn’t understand that I was no longer the same man I’d been when we met. I could barely remember what life felt like before she showed up. Ten days with her, and I had no comfort zone to return to. She was my comfort zone.
