Page 32 of Flirting with the Scrooge

The rest of the remodel I need to finish.

Math equations.

Once I’m feeling… better, I swing my legs off the bed and stand. I strip out of the clothes from yesterday and put on the clean ones Tatum brought me. I hobble to where my crutches are leaning against a chair in the near corner of the room. With them situated under my arms, I limp out of the bedroom and down the hallway into the kitchen. Tatum’s standing at the sink washing dishes. She glances up when she hears the pads of the crutches squeak against the linoleum.

“You changed. I mean, your clothes.” She points a sudsy hand at me.

“Yeah. Thanks for getting them for me. I appreciate it.” My gaze falls to the floor as a wave of awkward crashes through the room. “Would you like help with anything? I need something to do. I’m getting restless.”

She chuckles. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.”

Shifting my weight to the crutches, I inch closer to her, careful to not put too much pressure on my foot. “I don’t have the patience to sit around all day. I’d rather be doing something. Anything.”

“Um.” Her lips press together. “You can help me rinse off these dishes.”

“Done.” Slowly, I move to stand next to her and lean the crutches on the counter next to me. The hum of the refrigerator and swishing of water as she washes the dishes is the only sound in the kitchen. She runs the sponge over a plate in circles. If she keeps going, she might rub a hole through the ceramic.

“I think it’s clean.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She passes it to me.

After rinsing the plate, I run a towel over the front and back before stacking it on the counter. “You seem a little preoccupied. Something on your mind?”

“Well… I’m just curious… did you?” She presses her lips together as if she’s afraid to say more.

A beat passes as I digest what she’s asking. Then it hits me, but I want her to say it. “Did I? What?”

“You know…” She gestures to my crotch.

“Did I… put on pants?”

“No.” Her laugh fills the air. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Say what?” I feign innocence, but a smile pulls at my lips.

“I hate you,” She whispers. Her gaze drops to the floor before meeting mine. “Did you… touch yourself?”

I drop my hands to my sides and frown. “Really? That’s what you give me? Did I touch myself?”

“Yeah.” She shrugs as a giggle escapes her.

I flash her a half smile and shake my head. “I didn’t. Your sheets are safe.”

Her gaze drops to the sink as she concentrates on washing the mug in her hand. “I wasn’t worried about that. I don’t know why I even asked. It’s none of my business.”

“Well, it is your bed, so it’s a fair question.”

“Before I make this conversation any more awkward, let’s move on. Since you don’t want to rest, what do you want to do?” She finishes washing the last mug and passes it to me.

“Maybe go for a hike. Shovel snow. Chop some wood.”

She side-eyes me, but the edges of her lips pull into a smile.

I huff out a laugh. “I don’t know.”

“We could watch a movie. But it has to be a Christmas movie. That’s my December ritual.” She dries her hands on a towel and rests her butt against the counter.

“Fine.Die Hard.” I dry my hands with the towel she just used.

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