Page 9 of Checked Out by the Grinch
“I know,” my voice stays low and steady, “but I want to help.”
“I don’t need help, though.” She leaves the cash on the table and tucks her hands onto her lap. “I’m sure some YouTuber somewhere can show me how to fix the water heater, and I’ll find money somewhere. I always do.”
“Look,” I plant my boot flat against the floor like I’m bracing for kickback, “I’m pretty sure I have a solid reputation of being the most stubborn man of all time, so I get not wanting to take help, but I also know that sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let someone in.”
She glances toward me and laughs. “What cereal box did you read that from?”
“Please.” I let out a chuckle and shake my head. “That came from the back of a bag of concrete. Right next to how to suppress your emotions.”
She’s full on smiling now, and I swear the tension in her shoulders releases, just a little.
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say, gaze stuck on hers. “Nothing but banana bread. I promise.”
For a long moment she stays still, and I watch the gears turn behind her eyes as though she’s trying to decide what to say next.
“What if…” She leans forward and then back again as though she’s regretting the words before she’s spoken them.
“What?” I ask, brows lifting.
She shakes her head, then glances out the window and back toward me again. “Nothing. It was stupid.”
I lean in, forearms planted firmly on the table as a grin stretches onto my face. “Now I gotta know.”
She hesitates then exhales through her nose. “What if you did more than fix my water heater?”
I blink, unsure I heard her right.
She doesn’t meet my eyes. “I mean… I’m sure I’m not your normal cup of tea and all, I just, it’s been so long, and it’s not even really about sex. I just… I miss touch.” She sighs. “God, this is just sounding more and more pathetic. Why am I saying this?” Her cheeks turn a shade of red that matches the flashing lights outside.
Well damn. This has never happened before.
“I’m sorry.” She covers her face and refuses to look toward me. “My friend was trying to convince me to be reckless and I… I told you I was a mess tonight.” Digging through her bag for change, she slides up from the table. “I’m literally losing my mind. I’m so sorry. You’re here, trying to be kind for Christmas, and I’m throwing myself at you like some cheap whore.”She tosses a dollar in change down on the counter and rushes out of the diner and into the blustering cold.
She’s halfway across the parking lot, coat flapping in the wind, her shoulders hunched like she’s trying to disappear into herself.
I don’t think. I just head out the door.
“Hey,” I call out, trying to cut through the wind that’s whipping through the snow.
She doesn’t pause, so I keep following, striding through the snow behind her. It doesn’t take long before I’m close enough to land my hand on her shoulder. “You can’t leave like this.”
Her frame turns slowly, eyes glassy, breath fogging between us. “I’m an idiot.”
I lift a hand, slow and careful, and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You did great. You know what you need and you’re incredibly straight forward about it.” I can’t stop a grin from lifting my cheeks.
Her eyes roll and she turns away again. “Oh my God! This is so embarrassing!”
I step around her, boots crunching through the snow until I block her path enough that she pauses. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
The words hang there, and I hate how badly I want her to stay in this moment with me. Snow swirls around us, blurring the edges of the diner and the hardware store across the street.
Her brows lift, just slightly. “Yet, I’m the only one offering sex in a diner booth.”
I grin again, wider this time, thankful for the humor she uses to diffuse all these emotions. “That was going to be the next thing out of my mouth, I swear.”
She snorts, half amused, half mortified as she buries her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
I shrug and pull her in closer. “I’m glad you said it out loud.”
