Page 30 of Santa's Pretty Helper

I glance at Gabe over the rim of my wineglass, shooting him a small, secret smile, my cheeks feeling warm from the fire and the wine and from looking at the man I love. He smiles back at me, and for a moment, our eyes hold across the living room. It’s like the entire world disappears and it’s just the two of us.

Until my father clears his throat and I realize that the other three people in the room are staring at me.

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, blushing furiously.

“Dad was asking about your exams,” said Eric, frowning slightly. He glances at Gabe, then at me, then shakes his head. “How much wine have you had?”

“It’s her first glass,” says Mom. “Anyway, honey, how did your exams go?”

I answer and the tension in the room seems to melt away. Meanwhile, Gabe and I can’t seem to stop sneaking glances at each other. He just looks so sexy in his off-white sweater and dark jeans, the firelight catching the bits of bronze in his hair. I melt a little every time he smiles and those little lines fan out around his eyes.

I need to stop. I’m going to give us away.

I head into the kitchen for a glass of water and a breather, leaning against the counter. Gabe enters the kitchen a moment later, and I’m again reminded of the day of the Christmas tree decorating party. Except this time, he doesn’t stay on the other side of the island. This time, he crosses the kitchen, plants his hands on my hips and kisses me softly.

“Being in the same room with you and not being able to touch you is torture, sweetheart,” he whispers, and I shiver, my nipples beading to hard points.

“I know. I can’t stop looking at you and wishing I could sit next to you, curled up against you.”

He huffs out a breath and then kisses my forehead. His lips are warm and firm and god, do I wish we were alone.

There’s a shuffle of feet behind us and we spring apart just as Eric enters the kitchen, holding a mostly empty serving tray. He eyes us warily, his steps slowing.

“Whatcha doing?” he asks, his words casual and his tone anything but as he shoots daggers at Gabe with his eyes.

“Talking,” I say simply, rolling my eyes. “You don’t need to hover.”

Eric narrows his eyes at me, then at Gabe. “Maybe I do. What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing,” I say a little too quickly, taking another step away from Gabe. “Don’t be a weirdo.”

Eric’s eyebrows inch up his forehead. “Oooooookaaayyy, then,” he says, drawing out the word. He looks at Gabe, who rubs a hand over the back of his neck.

We head back into the living room, but I’m unnerved. Gabe gives my shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he passes, and when I sit back down next to Mom, everything seems to be normal again.

We eat and drink and talk some more, then go for a walk around the neighborhood to look at all of the lights. I walk besideGabe, our hands brushing occasionally, sending electricity dancing up my arm. At one point, I slip on a little patch of ice, and he catches me, and for a brief moment, I get to feel his body against mine.

By the time we return, we’re pink cheeked and chilled through. Eric and Gabe help Mom finish up dinner while Dad and I help ourselves to the mulled wine.

“You know…” Dad says, rocking on his heels, gazing into the fire. “He’s a good man, that Gabe.”

I sip my wine and nod, making a completely noncommittal sound. What can I say?

“He’s a little old for you, but…if you’re happy, then that’s all that really matters.”

I sputter and choke, spices invading my sinuses. “What?” I manage.

“I know you think you’re being subtle, but…” He shrugs. “I could tell. The way you keep looking at each other across the room. The little smiles, the pink cheeks. How closely together you were walking just now. The way you look at him speaks louder than any words. Are you seeing Gabe?”

I inhale a shaky breath and then glance towards the kitchen. My heart is going a mile a minute. “Okay, yes. I’m dating Gabe, and it’s pretty serious, and…Yeah. We…we’re in love.” My voice is a frantic whisper. “But please don’t say anything to Mom and Eric yet, okay? I don’t know how Eric’s going to take it, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to tell him.”

Dad tilts his head, considering. “He may not like it at first, but he’ll come around.”

I wish I had his confidence.

“Still, we’re keeping a low profile because we didn’t want it to seem like we’re making the holiday all about us.”

Dad pats me on the shoulder, a rueful smile on his face. “Well, that’s very selfless, but unnecessary in my opinion. But,you’re a grown woman now, and you get to make these choices for yourself. So I won’t say anything.” He lays a hand over his heart like he’s taking an oath. “Promise.”

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