Page 8 of Decked By The Grumpy Golem
Good. At least, that’s an honest reaction.
"Childish," he says, his voice low and rough.
"Stoneface," I shoot back, the old nickname slipping out before I can stop myself.
The air between us suddenly feels charged, thick with history and heat and all the things we're not saying. His gaze drops to my mouth for just a second, so quick I might have imagined it, before snapping back to my eyes.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, can see the way his chest rises and falls under his jacket. Thespace between us hums with tension, and I have the wild thought that he might actually step closer, that we might finally have the conversation we should have had ten years ago.
"Lucia!" Dad's voice booms across the parking lot, shattering the moment like glass. "The girls are asking if you’re joining us on the sleigh ride?"
I blink, the spell broken, and glance over to see my family clustered around the sleigh area. Isla and Arwen are waving at me, their faces bright with excitement, while Mom holds up their free hands.
"I'm coming!" I call back, then add louder, "Nothing interesting here to see anyway!"
As I hurry away from Gideon and walk past Dad, my father cuts him a glare sharp enough to chip granite. It's the same look he used to give boys who brought me home late in high school, and under different circumstances, it might be funny.
Gideon isn’t interested in me. He made that perfectly clear.
I fall into step beside my family, forcing a smile for the twins as they chatter about elves and cocoa and whether reindeer are really just magical deer or a completely different species. Mom links her arm through mine, her face glowing with happiness at having her whole family together.
But my pulse is still hammering, my palms still tingling with leftover snow and the memory of Gideon's eyes on mine. For ten years, I've told myself that Gideon Flintman couldn't hurt me anymore. That I was over him, over us, over the girl I used to be when I believed in forever.
One word, one look, one moment of standing too close, and I know I've been lying to myself all along.
The sleigh bells jingle as we approach the line, and Isla tugs on my coat. "Aunt Lucia, are you okay? You look funny."
"I'm fine, sweetheart," I lie, ruffling her hair under her hat. "Just excited."
But as we wait for our turn, I can't shake the feeling that Gideon is still watching me. And when I finally give in and glance back toward the barn, he's nowhere to be seen.
Which somehow feels worse than if he'd stayed.
Chapter Four
Gideon
Ineedtogether out of my head.
I blink and try to focus on the repairs at Town Hall, but my head isn’t in the game. Not surprising. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Lucia’s face. Lucia’s mouth. Lucia’s dark, velvet stare.
Like the ghost of Christmas past, fucking with me.
But every time I close my eyes, it’s her face I see. It’s the sting of her words I hear. She still has that same feisty attitude shealways brought to our fights. That attitude that made me want to bend her over my knee and spank her. Not that I would ever dare.
I still see the look of hurt in her dark-brown eyes. The hurt I put there. That hurt that made me hate myself every day for the past ten years.
She hates me. I know it. It’s better this way. Then why doesn’t it feel better?
I almost lost it after she threw the snowball at my head. I know she was baiting me. Lucia always knew how to push my buttons, and I almost lost control. I almost crushed her to my chest, kissed her, and confessed everything to her. Like a fucking moron.
Standing there, face-to-face with her after ten years, felt like stepping into a furnace. My skin burned so hot I'm surprised the snow around us didn't start steaming. Every rational thought scattered the moment those dark-brown eyes locked on mine, and all I could think about was how she still looked like a Goddess, how her cheeks flushed pink in the cold just like they used to when we were kids building snow forts in her backyard. How the dimples in her cheeks made my guts twist and my mouth go dry.
Ten years gone and still, she can make me feel nineteen again. Stupid and raw and desperate for something I could never have.
Fuck me. I need to finish this job. Then maybe stay inside my home until the holidays are over and Lucia goes back to her glamorous life in the Big Apple.
I shake my head and focus on the work. The mortar repair inside the town hall is finally finished, the crack sealed and smoothed until you'd never know some amateur tried to butcher it last spring. I packup my tools and do my best not to think of a particular human woman anymore.
