So much for stamina. But he’d worked so hard today. All week. Ever since he’d arrived, really. He’d earned some rest.
I snuck into the bathroom across the hall and washed up and brushed my teeth. Most of Noel’s mess went down my throat, but I brought a damp cloth back to the room and swiped between his legs. He barely stirred.
I tossed the cloth onto the bedside table and pulled the comforter over him, then climbed in and curled around his body.
I would tell him when we woke. First thing. Before anything else could get in the way.
I breathed in his scent and wrapped my arms around him. Tomorrow, for better or worse, Noel Grisold would know…
I loved him.
I woke to high-pitched singing. What the fuck?
I grumbled under my breath and flopped onto my back, trying to will the noise away.
The trilling notes grew to a crescendo, making me wince and burrow under the pillows. But it just wouldn’t quit.
I reached for the bedside table, fumbling around, catching the edge of a phone and sending it hurtling under the bed.
Damn it.
It continued to play a high-pitched chipmunk version of “Jingle Bell Rock,” and I wanted to kill the damn thing.
The sleep fog cleared enough for me to realize it was Noel’s phone. I rolled over to tell him, but his side of the bed was empty.
He must have gone back to his room and forgotten the phone. We were still sneaking around so his parents wouldn’t ask questions we couldn’t answer.
The awful Christmas ring stopped. But then the phone started buzzing and rattling against the frame of the bed.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Time to get up. Big things to do today.”
Like tell Noel you love him.
My heart lurched. Damn. That was top of the agenda, wasn’t it?
Buzz rattle buzz.
But first, I had to get his phone out from under the bed. His very annoying, insistent phone.
It occurred to me it could be important, such an early morning call.Like a job offer in Chicago, my traitorous mind whispered. Or Kevin telling him his party was such a success that half the town wanted to make reservations, and Noel would be so thrilled he’d never want to leave.
Wishful thinking? Yes. Absolutely. Wishful thinking was the name of the game today, or else I’d never get the guts to tell Noel all the things that needed to be said.
Things like,I love you.
Things like,I know it’s unfair to ask, but I can’t let you leave without trying to get you to stay. For me. Because I’m a selfish asshole, but I want to be your selfish asshole.
Things like,Please, Noel. I’ll work every day to deserve you.
But before all that, I had to deal with this phone. I threw back the blankets and got down on my knees beside the bed. The door behind me opened just as I picked it up, a text message flashing on the screen.
Griff:
Got a lead on a B&B chain looking for Christmas tree farms to purchase. I thought of our conversation last week.
A name and number followed, along with one last message.
You’ll need to act fast. These guys are aggressive buyers, and if you don’t, they’ll move on to another farm for sale.
