Page 24 of Mad About Yule

“I guess I’m glad you didn’t do that. Still, I’d feel better if you took the rest of the day off.” The Wonderland can’t really afford to lose another day, but it’s the least I can do for him. We’re both lucky I didn’t knock him unconscious. The look in his eyes is still so strange, I’m not convinced he doesn’t need some kind of scan to make sure I haven’t seriously jogged his brain.

“You might feel better, but I wouldn’t.”

This man’s ego never quits. Dead-set on being the bossandinvincible. A really stupid part of me likes his determination, even if the rest of me wants to twist his arm until he admits he needssomething. He just got hit in the head. He can take five minutes.

“You should lie down for a while at least.”

He lifts an eyebrow at the warehouse floor. “Are you trying to give me tetanus, too?”

“I meant you should go home.”

“Boss, I’m fine. Never better.” He sets the water bottle on the workbench and summons me with a crooked finger. “We’re going to have a little safety lesson.”

I follow him to the stack of lumber, dreading the coming lecture even though I’ve proved I need one. It’s like losing to him in high school debates all over again. At least we don’t have a crowd of teenagers jeering at us while we verbally spar, but this isn’t a huge improvement.

“This is how I want you to pick up boards.” He stands one on its end so it leans against his shoulder. “I’m not knocking into anything. Safe, right?”

I nod as he lays it back down. Now is probably the wrong time to tell him that before this project, I’d never touched a piece of unfinished wood in my life. “Got it.”

He walks over to the tools he’d set out on the workbench. A drill, screwdriver, sander, and a few I don’t recognize lay in a neat row on the plywood. The buzzsaw has a yellow sticky note on it that just saysNo.

“Where did you get a sticky note?”

“I come prepared. Now, if you don’t know how to work any of these, don’t touch them.”

I’m not loving the tone of this safety lesson. “I’m not a child, Griffin.”

“Which one of us just hit someone in the head with a board?”

Despite his authoritarian attitude, he doesn’t sound angry, just mildly irritated, like he’s more annoyed by my screw-up than his injury.

“That was ten minutes ago.” I try a small smile, teasing him just a little.

He shoots me a scathing look, but there’s no real bite to it. “Joking about it already, are we? I’m starting to doubt your story about how Silas hurt his back.”

“That was almost entirely his fault.”

“Sounds like a confession to me.”

“Well, he refused to admit I’m the boss.” I grin at him until he looks away, fighting laughter. “I really am sorry. I feel bad to have you just go back to work. Isn’t there something I can do to make it up to you?”

His eyes do this weird thing, both narrowing and growing darker all at once. Maybe this is the pupil action I was looking for earlier. After a second, he shakes his head.

“It was an accident. Don’t worry about it. Just don’t repeat it, either. I don’t need another round with the Homecoming Queen special.”

“Are you going to kick me out of the warehouse?” He’d totally be within his rights to put up aKeep Outsign.

He watches me for a long minute like he just might take me up on my offer. “Would you be likely to stay out if I did?”

“Not super likely.” Not even the embarrassment of cracking Griffin in the head could keep me from wanting to have a hand in my project. Plus, I’m going to have to paint the houses eventually.

I can probably do less damage with a paintbrush than a two-by-four, though.

“Then I guess I won’t bother.”

We go back to work, and I act as his assistant, fetching tools and supplies with perfect care for our safety. I’m not sure I’ve ever paid so much attention to my surroundings in my life. He doesn’t talk much, but I can’t work in this kind of silence.

I tell him about my plans for the festival whenever he doesn’t have the drill running. His responses aren’t as enthusiastic as I might like, but he doesn’t criticize, and I take that as a win.

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