10. Elsie

CHAPTER 10

Elsie

“ E ls,” Grant groans as he looks up from his work bench. “You’re all germ-infested, go the fuck home.” Today we’re working on setting up dividers and temporary shelves for the vendors and I may—okay, I am most definitely sick. It’s fine, though, I’ve taken more vitamin C than what's probably advised, and as long as I stay up on my cold medicine, I shouldn’t have a problem.

“Gra—ACHOO!” I sneeze into my tissue before blowing my nose. “It’s a little head cold. I’m staying away from you so calm down.” I roll my eyes while going back to hanging lights.

“Sweet girl, if you think I’m afraid of getting sick, I’ll come over there and lick your palm.” I shouldn’t find that hot, I really shouldn’t. “I want you to go home and lay the fuck down. You shouldn’t be working if you’re sick.”

“Well I can’t, okay,” I huff in annoyance. “Someone alerted Betty Rhodes that I’m living in the coffee shop and I was given a warning this morning. Plus there is talk she’s going to come here and see how things are going. Apparently some of the vendors have sent her complaints about not being treated well.” Sitting on the folding chair, I sigh while blowing my nose again. I notice Grant walking toward me. He’s limping pretty bad today and I wonder if he hurt himself in the rage room two days ago. I will admit, getting all of those emotions out felt amazing. But now I’m left with questions. Like what’s going to happen between Grant and me? I mean I told him I have feelings for him, but he never responded if he felt the same. And then we didn’t see each other yesterday.

“So,” he grunts as he shifts his weight off his prosthetic. “Come stay at my house.” My eyes threaten to bulge out of my head.

“W—What?” I squeak. “Grant, it was one thing spending the night after the accident but now, I mean, I appreciate it but I have to find an actual place to live.” Which with my current bank account balance is going to be under the Northbrook Bridge.

“I have the room, it doesn’t have to be weird.” He shrugs while crossing his arms over his chest.

“Except it would be weird because I would be living with you.”

“You mean because of your insatiable lust for me?” He grins as my face goes bright red.

“I—I… You’re not being very nice! I’m sick!” I huff as he chuckles.

“Oh, I’ve be so fucking nice. I just offered your pretty ass a free place to stay—no strings attached. You’re the one swatting down my offer, not very Christmas spirit of you,” he teases and I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, well, bah-humbug.” I watch his grin fall and his gaze turns stern.

“Els, what’s going on?”

“I already told you. This market has sucked the holiday joy out of my life. I don’t even care anymore. I already knew I wasn’t going to have a tree and a home to decorate so I wanted to pour it into this and the vendors have ruined it. This feels so… cheap. There’s no joy. And now I’m sick on top of it.”

“Sweetheart, of course there’s no joy. This is the place where the joyless go to capitalize on the holiday. But just wait until the people show up—not the vendors. They’ll have all that magical twinkle shit in their eyes and you’ll perk up.” I force a smile that I don’t feel while taking out another tissue and wiping my nose.

“Yeah, you’re probably ri—what are you doing?” I ask as Grant grabs my arm and hoists me to my feet.

“Follow me,” he says as we head out of the building. I shiver and pull my coat tighter to my body while Grant steps into the snow covered grassy area. I furrow my brows and am about to ask him what he’s doing when he turns to face me and falls backward into the snow.

“Oh my God!” I gasp while running to him. “Are you—AH!” I squeal when he reaches for my wrist and yanks me into the snow with him. “Grant! I’m sick! What on—”

“Hush it,” he mutters as he moves his arms and legs. Is he—oh my god he’s making a snow angel. I watch in bewilderment as he continues to move his arms and legs. After a moment, he stops and a serious look washes over his face.

“What is it?” I ask, while glancing at him.

“How do I get up without leaving a hand or footprint?” I giggle at his question as I start making my own snow angel.

“You don’t. There’s no such thing as a perfect snow angel, there’s always a mark when you get up.”

“Except for you, right?” He looks at me and I blink in confusion. “ You are the perfect snow angel.”

“I—” I squeak the word as he scoots closer to me.

“I like you,” he whispers against my lips and I feel myself melting into the snow.

“Is this a fever dream?” I murmur, causing him to chuckle lightly.

“No, this is my cheesy attempt at wooing you.”

“Oh, I’m woo’d,” I say quickly. “You are a successful woo-er.”

“Oh am I?” he mumbles, his nose running along my jawline. “Just how successful?” A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the snow and everything to do with the man giving me whiplash with his back and forth hot and cold.

“Gra—ACHOO!” I turn away and sneeze into my elbow, breaking whatever spell he seems to be under. Grant stands up and turns to me.

“Come on, Els, if you don’t want to stay with me I will put you up in the Inn.”

“Grant.” I stand up but hold his hand when he tries to let go.

“I like you, too, you know that.”

“I do,” he whispers, still looking at the snow covered ground. “But I also know you shouldn’t, and not just because of your brother, but because I’ve spent years hating myself so much that—” He grimaces while trying to find the words. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look at myself and not feel guilt.”

I nod softly. “I understand that feeling.” I move closer and wrap my arms around his tapered waist. “I can’t look at myself without feeling guilt either. So here’s my idea.” His eyes find mine and they look pleading. Like he’s begging me to give him the answers. “We don’t look at ourselves.” I state and he blinks.

“What?”

“We stop looking in the mirror. We’ll just look at each other.”

He chuckles softly at my suggestion. “Ah, avoidance and denial—”

“Shut up.” I roll my eyes. “Let’s not act like self-hatred is any healthier.” He smiles at me before his eyes flick to something behind me. His grin widens.

“Told you you were the perfect snow angel.” He gestures with his head and I turn to see my snow angel with no handprints.

“I want to stay at your house,” I say firmly and Grant nods.

“Okay.” He looks nervous but there is a light in his eyes, like hope. “Okay, come on, I’ll take you there so you can rest.”