Page 43 of Merry Mayhem
Josh:I’m here. Front porch.
I wait a few seconds, but get no answer.
I try the door. It’s unlocked, which I don’t love, but Rebel is small and she seems to know most of the town, so she knows better than I do if that’s safe.
I still don’t love it.
I push the door open and poke my head in. There’s a small foyer with a pile of shoes on one side and several hooks on the wall full of jackets and sweaters. There’s a staircase straight ahead, and light is spilling from a room ahead and to the right.
“Thea?” I call softly.
No answer. I step inside, shutting andlockingthe door behind me. I kick my boots off, adding them to the heap, and shrug out of my thick outer flannel, hanging it over the blue puffy jacket on the third hook.
I set my bag at the bottom of the staircase and take a deep breath. The house smells like cinnamon and caramel. Exactly like the caramel rolls my grandmother makes.
As if I didn’t already have multiple reasons to want Thea Chabert.
I step into the living room. The TV is mounted on the wall facing me, and the movie playing isn’t familiar but is clearly a Christmas movie. The actors are walking along a path with drifts of snow on either side, bundled up in coats, gloves, and hats. They’re laughing as they pass park benches where people sit, sipping from paper cups, and there’s a snowman in the distance. That looks a lot more like a Nebraska winter, than Louisiana.
The living room windows are to my right and are partially blocked by the Christmas tree, which glows with multi-colored lights, like the ones on the porch. The back of the sofa is directly in front of me, but I don’t see Thea and Ruth.
Until I step around the end of the couch.
They’re stretched out on the cushions under a big red fleece blanket with white snowflakes, facing the television, fast asleep.
My heart does a weird flip in my chest. That’s such a sweet, peaceful sight and a thought flits through my mind.Wish I could see this all the time.
Followed immediately byfuck, she’s beautiful.
Thea’s face is devoid of makeup now, and she’s pulled her hair back with a hairband.
I’m not sure what to do here. But I have to wake her up, don’t I? All the lights are on, and I don’t know which bedroom I’m supposed to use upstairs.
I lean over the back of the couch and brush a hand over her forehead. “Thea?” I say softly.
I drag the back of my fingers down the side of her face. Her skin is so soft. I want to run my thumb over her lips, but I resist. When I touch her lips, I want her awake.
“Thea?” I say again.
Her eyes flutter open, and she looks up at me.
“Hey, it’s Josh.”
Her eyes widen for a moment, then she blinks rapidly and looks around. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“No worries. I just got here.”
She looks down at Ruth and then shifts, sliding her arm out from underneath her sleeping daughter. “What time is it?”
“Just after eleven,” I say. “I’m sorry it’s so late.”
“It’s fine.” She pushes herself up, the blanket falling away from her shoulders.
She’s wearing a soft-looking cotton T-shirt. And no bra.
It’s not my fault for noticing. The evidence is right there. Two perky breasts, pressing against the front of thin, pale-yellow cotton.
She’s clearly not aware of the eye-full I’m getting, and I straighten as she sits up on the couch, shifting around Ruth in a maneuver that says she’s done this many times before.
