Page 55
He found Charles on the daybed, reading a leather-bound copy of Persuasion, his glasses precariously low on his nose.
“Have you seen—” he began, when just then, the storeroom door opened and out came the most delightful decoration of all.
It was Lucy, dressed in an elf outfit that should not have been nearly as sexy as it was because it was the most obnoxious green and red she could find. A true eyesore, and yet she looked fantastic—but then, she looked fantastic in just about everything.
“How do I look?” she asked, twirling for them. Her hair was out of the ponytail and in two braids, curled tendrils framing her face. As she moved, the bells hanging from her outfit jingled, making Grayson laugh.
“You don’t even celebrate!”
“It’s called being festive!” she retorted. She turned to Charles, furrowing her brows. “And speaking of—why aren’t you changed? We’re opening soon!”
“Just a moment, Lucy-Lu,” Charles said. He snapped his fingers and immediately changed into a Santa outfit, which fit him too perfectly. He patted his stomach. “Ho, ho, ho!”
“Uncanny,” Grayson said with a shudder.
Lucy turned her eyes to him. “And you? Where is your holiday spirit?”
“Right here.” He pointed to the candy-cane-printed tie he wore with a white button-up shirt beneath his maroon sweater.
“Grayson!” she snapped.
He always got a little thrill when she said his name.
“What?”
“This won’t do!” She skipped over, grabbing his shoulders to shake him. She was on her tiptoes, and he inhaled the sweet scent of vanilla on her skin, wanting to take a bite out of her.
“It’s perfectly festive,” Grayson replied, focusing on the conversation at hand and not the bolt of desire that had shot through him at the salacious thought.
“Noooooo.”
“I tried to get him into a costume this morning, but he wouldn’t budge,” Charles said, shaking his head with dismay.
Lucy pouted, releasing his shoulders. “Don’t be BORING,” she cried. But then, an idea seemed to strike her. Slowly, her lips turned up into a wicked smile, and he immediately felt fear spike through him. He took a cautious step away.
“Lucy …” he warned.
“Thankfully I have just the thing.”
“Lucinda, don’t—”
But it was too late. She closed her eyes, concentrating, then snapped her fingers. A green mass appeared in her hands.
“Fuck no,” he said.
“Fuck yes!” she exclaimed, holding the Grinch costume up. “Come on, it’ll fit you so well!”
He gave her an unamused look, backing up farther. “No.”
“Yessssss.” She ran toward him, and he had no choice but to run in the opposite direction.
“No!” he cried.
“YES!”
She chased him until he was backed into a corner, with nowhere else to run. He faced her, stopping. She gave him a look of pure glee before scrunching her eyes closed.
He braced himself as she waved her hands. A moment later, he was covered in green fur.
