Page 17 of Merry Mayhem
“What do you have planned for this Christmas Eve?” I'm reluctant to leave this bed. I'd be happy to stay here forever, exactly like this. I run my fingers through her hair, enjoying the smooth glide of her silky strands.
She hums, the sound vibrating into my chest. “Breakfast. Then Gavin and I would finish decorating. Start making food for tomorrow. Make sure I have extra boxed stuffing. Can't forget that.”
My heart warms, and she snuggles a little closer, pressing a kiss to my hand. “Then put the presents under the tree, make some cookies, and go to bed early.”
“Early?” I ask, envisioning everything else easily. “I'd have thought you'd be the type to wait up, watching for Santa.”
“Not this year,” she says, twining her fingers with mine. “I already got more than I could have expected.”
“This sounds like an excellent plan.”
She nods, then stills. “Except that Gavin isn't here. He's still at his friend's house.”
“Well, you and I can have breakfast, finish the decorating, and get any groceries you need. Then, when Gavin comes home, there's plenty of time for cookies before bed.”
“You'd help me with that?” she asks, her voice giving a little shake. Enough to let me know she wasn't sure what I'd actually say.
“Gretchen, sweetheart, I'll do whatever you want.”
20
GRETCHEN
Cooke istrue to his word. He treats me to waffles and French toast for breakfast, then drives me to pick out lights to hang on the outside of the house. Once we're back, he puts them up while I string together some of the snowflakes we made. It's a quick, easy garland and I stretch rows of them across the ceiling, dipping them down in intervals so they're at different heights. When I'm done, I stand back and smile, assessing my handiwork. It's simple, but festive. And it makes me smile, knowing that we made these together.
The three of us.
Cooke walks in and gives a whistle. “This looks great.”
That simple statement warms me. He was honest with me about Christmas in his past, but his open admiration makes me hope that in even a little way, I've helped him see that the holidays can be different for him. Starting now.
“There's some more snowflakes left. Gavin said something about giving them to people he scooped snow for, right?”
“Yeah. He did.” Cooke steps up behind me and wraps his arm around my waist. His cold nose nuzzles my neck, and Ijump with a laugh. “It can be a thank you to his customers. A nice way for them to remember him.”
“Why is he doing this, shoveling snow?” I twist in the circle of his arm and press a kiss to his chin. “Did he ever tell you?”
He shrugs. “He told me he was earning money to buy a gift for someone. A girl.”
“A girl? My little brother is buying a Christmas gift for a girl?”
Cooke laughs at my surprise. “Apparently. That's all he told me. I'm sure you'll find out everything soon enough. He loves you, Gretchen. He looks up to you. He's not going to keep this a secret for very long.”
“You know that for sure?” I'm second guessing if I spend enough time with Gavin, if there's some reason he wouldn't want to share details of his life with me.
“I do.” Cooke lifts my chin with a finger, bringing my gaze to his. “Have a little faith. Trust me. He'll tell you.”
He kisses me then, long and slow, and when we break apart, my worry has slipped away.
“How about we wrap some presents? Have them waiting under the tree for Gavin when he gets home.”
We do exactly that. Side by side, at the kitchen table, working together. There are little side glances, lingering touches here and there, but mostly, we're both smiling. It looks good on Cooke. And it feels good for me.
21
COOKE
Gavin comes barrelingin the door, a wide grin on his face that morphs into wonder as he stumbles to a halt.
