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“Nope,” she said cheerily, easing herself inside. She’d been showing off before when she hopped back on the examination table. Even the soft padding of Franklin’s seats sent a jolt through her tender backside as she plopped her butt down. “Definitely still hurts.”
“But you’re smiling.”
Was she?
“Oh? Huh. Didn’t even realize.”
Once Gloria knew that Franklin was as single as she was, she stopped pretending her teasing was anything other than what it had been all along: her disastrous attempts at flirting with a man who obviously thought she was a nuisance.
Nothing she had tried work. Franklin was utterly oblivious to her crush on him, he still visibly recoiled from anything that had to do with the holiday, and now she ended up with a wrap on her wrist while the sprain healed.
The wrap was Franklin’s request. He had gone and picked it up for her from Jefferson’s the same day as her fall and she’d been stuck wearing it for days all because he asked her to.
How could she say no? It was such a sweet gesture, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t kind of, sort of enjoy having his undivided attention.
It all started after he drove her home from Dr. De Angelis’s office. Franklin helped her inside of her cabin, set her up on her couch, then left. She thought he’d gone home for the night.
Nope.
He headed straight back into town, stopped at Jefferson’s, and came back with a fluffy pillow and an Ace bandage for her wrist. He insisted on wrapping up her swollen wrist, though he did draw the line at placing the fluffy pillow directly beneath her bruised backside for her. Instead, he went and got ice out of her freezer while Gloria settled herself on her couch.
When he was done, Gloria tried to shoo him away. The poor guy was drowning in his guilt and while she secretly enjoyed the way he fussed over her, it just wasn’t the same as if he wasn’t doting on her out of some sense of duty.
And that’s when she learned something about Franklin that should’ve been obvious ages ago.
The man was stubborn.
She tried to tell him to go home. He refused. He wasn’t rude about it, or too domineering. He just said that he was going to help her until she was feeling a hundred percent again and, because he was Franklin Carter, he stood there watching her with a closed-off expression until she shrugged and told him he could stay.
It was the best decision she made in a long, long time.
10
Franklin didn’t mean to do it. It hadn’t been part of his plan. But maybe he’d been looking for an excuse all along because, as soon as Gloria opened her door to him, it was way, way too easy for him to slide right in.
At first, he tried to convince himself that he was only taking care of his injured neighbor because, well, it was his fault she’d gotten hurt. He bought her a pillow to rest on, and a wrap for her sprained wrist, and he brought her ice to help with the swelling.
But then he didn’t leave.
At least, not right away.
The afternoon that Gloria fell and he brought her to see Lucas De Angelis, Franklin brought her home and convinced himself that she needed him to help her cook dinner otherwise she’d have trouble eating. Then he convinced himself that, if he was feeding her, he might as well eat with her, and that’s when she suggested they watch a movie while they eat.
Franklin didn’t have a television. There’d never been a need. But if Gloria wanted to watch one of her films, he was willing to do it if it made her happy. Even when she put on an action movie she thought he’d like—something called Die Hard—and he discovered it was set during Christmas Eve, he stayed because he wanted to be there in case she needed him.
And, he admitted after he finally went home that night, because it finally gave him an excuse to talk to Gloria without the wedge of her insistence that he celebrate the holiday coming between them.
It snowed the next morning. Normally, the six inches that fell would’ve been chow for
his truck. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving Gloria on her own, though, and he buzzed Bailey to stay in as soon as he saw the fresh powder. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he trudged across the way and offered to assist his neighbor
Might not have been the smartest offer. With her left hand still wrapped up tight, Gloria wanted to work on an eggnog ice cream “creation” that highlighted both rum and nutmeg. Franklin vetoed the rum—he was hesitant to mix booze with Gloria—but agreed to help her with her eggnog-and-nutmeg flavored desert.
It was delicious, just like all of Gloria’s creations, and he was so impressed that he begrudgingly let himself get roped into a marathon Christmas cookie baking session. He contemplated making his escape once, thought of the wrap on Gloria’s wrist and the light in her big blue eyes, and put another batch in the oven.
By the third day, he wasn’t even surprised when Gloria suggested they build a gingerbread house together. She wasn’t wearing her wrap anymore, but that was okay. Franklin had allowed himself to stop pretending that he was only visiting his neighbor because of her fall some time while John McClane was busy saving Nakatomi Plaza.
He couldn’t say exactly why he couldn’t stay away, though blaming his shout and her scare didn’t seem right after how nice the last couple of days were.
