Page 51 of The Thief Who Saved Christmas

“You don’t have anywhere to stay?”

He glances around. “I was hoping…”

Shit.

He doesn’t have anywhere to go or anyone to help him. Again, I feel a wrenching sensation in my chest. That’s how I felt last Christmas, and the kindness of a complete stranger changed my life. Sure, it took a while, but Grandma Edith planted the damn seeds, and this fall they sprouted.

Maybe it’s time for me to pay it forward. Especially since this guy is Anabelle’s friend.

I say, “Anabelle told me the inn’s full tonight.”

“Oh, sure.” He adjusts his glasses even though they seemed in no danger of falling. “I can find another place to stay.”

“I’m going to be here for a while. Kind of a…life sabbatical. You can bunk in my room until one of the others opens up. There are two double beds, but we’ll need to talk to Anabelle about what to do with your stuff. There’s a basement that seems to have space, and the water pipes just got fixed.”

“But you don’t even know me,” he objects, his eyes rounding. “And I don’t know you.”

“I’ve got some pepper spray you can keep under your pillow if it’ll make you feel better.”

“You’re not worried I—”

“Look,” I say, waving my mug to make the point. “Not to be a dick, but I’m not concerned you’ll try to kill me in the night. I may not be very smart, but I’m strong, and I have a hair-trigger startle reflex. You’re not going to successfully sneak up on me.”

He gulps from his drink and sets it down again. “No. I just… You know I’m gay, right? You’re not worried I’m going to try to come on to you?”

I snort. “You know I’m straight, and I know you’re gay. If you think I’m attractive, it would be a compliment, but I doubt you’d come on to someone you know isn’t interested. Just like I don’t go around hitting on hot married chicks.”

He laughs. “So you think you’re hot?”

“I know what I look like, and I wouldn’t hold it against you if you’ve noticed. Plenty of other people do.” Usually women who want a fling with the dumb musclehead for a few weeks.

He laughs again, smiling readily now, and I know I’ve set him at ease.

“Most straight guys don’t think that way.” He takes another sip of the drink before sitting back.

“Lucky for us, I’m not most guys. Let’s go talk to our girl.”

I’ve got no business calling her that, or thinking about her like that. She’s a woman I’ve known a week. But I don’t rush to correct myself.

Joseph throws back the rest of his drink as if he’s steeling himself for something.

“What’s wrong, Joseph?” I ask.

“If we’re going to be friends, you can call me Joe.” He looks into the bottom of his empty cup, as if hoping it will magically refill, before giving me his attention again. “Anabelle thinks I’m a woman.”

I really must be an idiot, because I’m only now realizing I’m sitting with her friend “Jo.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ANABELLE

Friday, December 5, 20 days until Christmas

Inns in peril: 1, but at least the water pipes won’t break

Santas sold: 5

Santas made: 2

---