Page 18 of A Candy Cane Christmas
Phew. That was lucky. Though the green would match her hair beautifully, I doubted her dad would be happy about the mishap.
We continued to work alongside each other in comfortable silence. Her small body vibrated with joy whenever she picked a new color and started slathering it on.
The painting didn’t look professional by any measure, but it was fun. Running the back of my hand over my forehead, I wrinkled my nose at the cold, slimy feeling of paint it left behind. The scent was off. Usually, the unmistakable smell of acrylic paint would hit my nose right about now, but the finger paint was different.
I didn’t really like it, but I also didn’t hate it as much as I’d expected.
“Oh, wow, you’ve covered a lot of ground,” Theo said, whistling through his teeth.
Hazel and I turned to him in unison, but while she grinned at him, I just froze because the shirts that were a loose fit for me? Yeah, not loose at all for him. Instead, the worn-thin fabric stretched deliciously over his chest and biceps. Fuck, it looked a little like the shirt might rip at the seams if he inhaled too deeply.
Not that I’d mind.
Yeah, Isowouldn’t mind.
“Daddy, we were careful; we didn’t make a mess on the floor,” Hazel said, crossing her arms and making a mess out of her shirt. Oops.
“You’re right, Hazel. How can I help you?”
Hazel immediately launched into a lengthy description of her vision—one that involved so much glitter I doubted I’d even have enough here—then ordered her dad to start with the tree topper since I was apparently doing a good job with the green and didn’t need help.
When the doorbell rang about ninety minutes later, we were still working on the canvas, all three of us covered in nearly as much paint as the painting in front of us.
“Fuck. That’s gotta be the pizza,” I said, wiping a few curls out of my forehead. “I completely lost track of time. Uhm… do you want to go wash up in the bathroom real quick?”
Theo lifted his head from where he’d been painstakingly applying yellow and white paint to imitate a string of lights. His eyes widened as he took me in, but it was when he spotted Hazel that they got big as saucers.
I got it. The ponytail had been a good idea, but by now, it’d basically gotten a dip dye. I didn’t even want to start on the way her face was bright red—and not from shame or embarrassment. Nope. She’d mixed her very own shade of red right on the skin of her cheeks.
“I doubt it’ll be quick,” I heard him whisper.
The doorbell rang again, and I hurried over to buzz the delivery guy in, my stomach fluttering with nerves. I’d definitely underestimated the amount of paint that would end up on Hazel.
Hell, I probably should’ve known better. I always got paint all over me. Then again, that was me, and I tended not to be a good measurement for others.
Wiping my hands on my shirt, I opened the door to take the pizza from the delivery guy and returned to the living room.
It was still empty, so I placed the cardboard boxes on my coffee table and headed to the kitchen to get cleaned up and grab a couple of plates.
Ten minutes later—well, eleven minutes and about fifty seconds, but who obsessed over the time—a very wet Theo and a rosy-faced Hazel emerged from the bathroom.
“We owe you a new bar of soap,” Hazel declared. Her dad buried his face in his hands in what seemed like a mix of defeat and shame.
“That’s okay,” I told them, trying to catch Theo’s eye to make sure he got the message. “You know, Miss Hazel, painting is my job, so I get dirty really often, which means I have to wash up a lot. So I always have a stock of soap.”
Tilting her head, Hazel skipped to where I was sitting on the couch, watching me with a scrutinizing gaze. “But Daddy said your job is helping Santa. That the elf clothes are your work clothes.”
Shit.
“Uhm, yeah, that’s right,” I started, begging Theo with a look to help me out here, but the absolute jackass was busy trying not to laugh. “But… ahh… You see, Santa really doesn’t need my help year-round. Mhm, yeah. So, I only help him in December, but have a different job during the rest of the year.”
Hazel nodded, her forehead still wrinkled, eyes full of doubt. “I guess that makes sense,” she finally conceded.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and started loading up my plate with pizza. My stomach was rumbling so loudly it was a miracle Theo didn’t hear.
Fuck, I’d forgotten to eat again, hadn’t I? I’d grabbed a coffee on my way to the art supply store, but unfortunately, they were out of blueberry muffins, so I wanted to get one on my way back and… yeah, I’d totally forgotten.
“Hungry?” Theo commented, a bemused smile on his lips.
