Page 106 of Spying Under the Mistletoe
Adam steps out of my apartment, and his gaze scrapes down Eric, as if he has X-ray vision and is making sure he’s clean.
It’s the same expression Eric is wearing as he checks out Adam—but probably not for the same reason. “Are you the ex-boyfriend who hurt Chloe?”
His tone makes me think of a young buck getting ready to challenge the alpha for buck supremacy.
Next, they’ll be circling each other, antlers loaded and ready.
“No, this is just a friend of mine,” I say in an attempt to stall the battle before it gets started. “Adam, this is Eric, the grandson of one of my neighbors.”
They nod at each other. The tension in Eric’s shoulders subsides. Not so much for Adam. But that’s because he’s on duty. This isn’t a social call for him.
“I offered to help Chloe with her elf hats,” Eric says, assuming, it would seem, that Adam knows what he’s talking about.
“For the Christmas show,” I clarify.
Adam smirks at Eric. “Right. You don’t look like the type who knows much about sewing.”
“I didn’t realize there was a certain look you needed to have to be considered a competent sewer,” Eric replies.
And we’re back to them metaphorically circling each other again.
I roll my eyes and limp into my apartment.
My vision blurs at the sight in front of me. Landon’s and my fake relationship truly is over—which shouldn’t come as a surprise, given I dumped him.
Sometime in the last eight hours, Landon entered my apartment and returned the Christmas decorations I’d left at his town house. But he didn’t just shove them into the big cardboard boxes I store them in. He decorated my apartment like I’d done to his home.
Even the Christmas tree and decorations we bought for his place have been relocated to my living room.
But in the short time since I last saw them, they’ve lost their holiday season sparkle—their reason to be merry.
Behind me, Adam says something to Eric, but I’m not really listening to him, so I don’t catch what he says.
I walk to the tree and inspect the wooden squirrel decoration hanging from a lower branch. The squirrel’s leg has been partially chewed, dedication of Whiskey. It must have happened after I moved out. I can almost imagine Landon attempting to coax it away from the teething puppy, and a slight smile sneaks onto my face.
Followed by the sensation of an invisible hand squishing my heart like it’s a chunk of Play-Doh.
God, I miss those two.
The apartment door clicks shut. I peer over my shoulder to discover that I’m alone. Looks like I’ll be working on the elf hats on my own after all. Not that it’s a bad thing. I’ll be so busy working on them, I won’t have time to miss Whiskey and Landon.
I glance around my apartment. I really need a pet. Something to keep me company.
Maybe a cute goldfish.
Or a pet toad.
I quickly grab some dinner and settle myself in front of my sewing machine. I’m almost finished the hat I’m working on when someone knocks on my apartment door. I get up to open it.
Eric is standing on the other side of the doorway, holding a sewing machine.
He salutes me. “Royal elf-hat maker to the stars. Reporting for duty.”
I laugh, my ribs protesting slightly. “I thought you were joking about helping me.”
“I never joke about anything as serious as this.” He winks at me, and I grin.
“How can I say no to that?” I open the door wider to let him in.
