Page 37 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

Gabe strides closer and towers over us like a large rectangular hunk of gorgeousness that tastes of rich coffee and smells of Christmas and who I would very much like to kiss again. Even though it is possibly the worst idea I’ve ever had in my life. It’s actually definitely the worst idea I’ve ever had in my life.

“Blue, did you say?” Gabe says.

Grayson bolts upright, his face shooting up to look at Gabe, suddenly full of hope. “Yes. Did you find it?”

“The bad news is, I did not,” Gabe says.

“Oh.” Grayson slumps back down.

“But the good news is, these are blue.”He pulls a glove from each of his jacket pockets. “And they’re a bit small for me.”

I’d imagine all gloves are too small for him. Unless there’s a special custom glovemaker somewhere who specializes in shovel-sized mitts.

I’m not sure which opens wider, Grayson’s eyes or his mouth. He makes a long, slow, gasping sound. “They’re Apollos gloves.”

And there go my ovaries again.

They are indeed Apollos gloves. Royal blue with the blasting rocket ship on the back, identical to the one on the T-shirt Gabe lent me to sleep in.

“They’ll still be a bit big for you,” Gabe says, offering them to the boy. “But they might get you by for a bit. Till you can find the one you lost.”

Grayson takes them and studies them like he’s never seen such precious objects before. “Really? I can keep them?”

“Absolutely.” Gabe nods. “They’re from the team shop. I can get another pair when I go back to New York.”

Reason number one—or one hundred and one, depending on how you look at it—that kissing Gabe Woods was a bad idea, in a couple of weeks he’ll likely be fit enough to go back to New York City and I’m definitely going to New Orleans.

Or maybe that’s what was at the back of my mind when I grabbed him. A kind of what-the-hell-I’ll-never-see-you-again type thing.

Either way, giving Grayson his gloves is a nice thing for him to do. How can someone be so exasperating but so damn nice all at the same time? So damn nice it makes me want to crawl inside his jacket.

“Will your mom be okay with you taking them?” Gabe asks.

Grayson gets to his feet, face beaming. “My dad definitely will. He loves hockey. Probably more of a Maple Leafs fan than the Apollos. He’s from Canada originally.” Grayson takes a couple of steps toward the aisle like he can’t wait to get out of here to go show his father. “But I know he’ll think it’s cool. Everyone will think it’s cool.” He moves farther away, still staring at the gloves in his hands. “And Kristopher definitely doesn’t have a pair. So that makes them even cooler.”

He picks up the pace heading up the aisle, so excited that he’s forgotten his manners.

“Grayson,” I call after him. “Do you think you should tha?—”

“Thank you, Mr. Woods.” He’s pretty much jogging away. “Thank you.”

And he’s gone. The doors swing shut behind him.

And that leaves just me, Gabe, the canyon and the elephant.

CHAPTER 13

NATALIE

Gabe folds down the seat next to me and sits in it.

Because he’s not the size of the mere mortals the seats were designed for, it’s inevitable that his upper arm rests against mine. The power of it seeps out of his puffer jacket and through my thick sweatshirt.

And we sit here, next to each other, staring straight ahead at the painting projects we still haven’t started.

Just his presence next to me accelerates my heart rate and makes me aware again of the dampness in my underwear.

“That was a nice thing you did.” I keep my eyes fixed on the mayor’s house.

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