Page 188 of Mountain Grump
She tries so hard not to smile, but I see her lips curling as she turns back to the bag.
The next item takes just as long to unwrap, but Tilda literally gasps when it’s revealed.
“Ethan.” She holds the clear bag up to the light, and the glass beads sparkle. They’re all different shades of purple, some so light they look white. “They’re so pretty.”
“There’s a spool of fishing line stuff in there too.”
Tilda reaches into the gift bag and finds it. “This is so perfect. I’m going to make Deerdra a necklace.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Then I try to think if I’ve heard her say that name before. “Who’s Dear… Who?”
Tilda smiles up at me. “Deerdra.” Then she points across the living room.
I jerk my head over, expecting to see a fucking ghost standing behind me. But there’s nothing.
Tilda lets out a laugh. “What is wrong with you?”
“Me? Who are you pointing at?”
She snorts as she aggressively points to the opposite corner of the living room.
And then I see it.
The deer head, with bows—made of familiar purple ribbon—tied around the base of each point on its antlers.
“Deerdra,” Tilda says again, like it makes perfect sense.
It is a clever name. I’ll give her that much. But I have to state the obvious. “You do know that the antlers mean it’s a male deer, right?”
She lifts a brow. “You do know it’s dead and doesn’t care what I call it, right?”
I dip my chin. “Touché.”
She’s definitely amusedatme, rather thanwithme, but I’ll take that over her tears any day.
“Finish opening your present.”
Tilda reaches into the bag and pulls out the last piece of tissue paper, revealing the final item.
A bakery box.
I reach around her and help by holding the bag in place as she pulls the flimsy paper box out.
She looks up at me.
I lift a brow at her.
She huffs, then sets the box on the counter and opens it.
I lean over her shoulder. “They got a little smushed.”
She swipes her finger through the frosting stuck to the top flap of the box and puts it into her mouth.
When she pulls her finger free and swipes it through the second spot of frosting, bringing it back to her mouth to lick it off again, I grip her wrist and lift her hand up over her shoulder.
I close my lips around her fingertip. And I suck the vanilla sweetness off her skin.
I hum my approval as I release her wrist, then I move to the cupboard and take out two plates.
