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“Oh, you’d be surprised what I miss,” I said dryly. Apparently, I’d missed him deciding he wanted to keep me around. And true, he hadn’t ever said he wanted to end things after Christmas. I’d just assumed because he hadn’t said otherwise either. But looking back, I could see any number of clues that perhaps he hadn’t had one foot out the door after all.
“Maybe if I spoke up more, you wouldn’t need to play detective.” Doing an excellent mind-reading job yet again, Paul gave a sheepish smile.
“So you’re saying you’ll need my help for all the occasions between now and next Christmas?” I needed him to spell things out for me because I still wasn’t entirely sure what he was after. “Is this because you’re worried about the wedding?”
“Nope. Elaine’s as bossy as you.” He chuckled as Butterscotch landed on the table between us. He gave the cat an idle pat. “She’ll tell me what to wear, and I can probably muddle through which fork to use when. But I need you, Gideon. Just you. Even if you wear sweats and hang out on my ugly couch and take a year or two off from decorating.”
I made an undignified noise. “Or two?”
“That’s not me putting out an end date.” He made a dismissive gesture before scratching between the cat’s ears. “Just doubting you can last forty-eight hours, let alone twelve or more months without decorating, shopping, organizing, or scheming.”
“I am good at schemes.” My tone was all pleased before a new thought paraded through my addled brain. “Maybe too good.”
“What?” He wrinkled up his face as if I were the one being confusing when he was the one who’d tossed me on a roller coaster without a seat belt with all these revelations.
“I really did want to save your Christmas.” My mouth twisted as I tried to find the right words. Paul wasn’t the only one who had a hard time speaking up. “But I also kinda wanted in your pants. I think I might have tricked you into keeping me around.”
Paul blinked, then blinked again. “Well. Can you keep on tricking me?”
“Pardon?”
“First, I’m not sure you noticed, but outside of letting you boss me around, I’m a tough guy.” He offered another crooked smile. “Not a pushover. No one’s weaseling their way into my life if I don’t want it. If you trapped me, I wanted to be caught.”
“Oh.” I considered this, recalibrating how I’d framed the events of the last month. “So, you want me to keep inviting myself along?”
“Well, ideally, I’ll get better at doing the inviting.” He reached for my hand. The tremble in his fingers made my chest clench. Paul nervous and tentative was new. And that it was because of me, well that was enough to make my own hand shake against his. “But yes. Keep showing up. I want you to.”
“Is that what this morning is about?” I asked. His presence was finally starting to make some sense. “You showing up? Inviting yourself shopping?”
“It seemed important to you. I can show up for you too. Maybe I’m not as good at knowing when and how to help as you, but I want to try.”
“You do help. You knew I didn’t want to be alone on Christmas. And maybe you felt sorry for me—”
“It’s not pity.” He squeezed my hand. “Trust me, I hate pity more than anyone. I wanted you there. For me. Because you being there makes everything better. I told you. I need you.”
Oh. He had said that, hadn’t he? Lori was right, I truly was dense. Or maybe, more to the point, I was so bogged down by old fears that I hadn’t let myself hope for what I wanted most.
“I need you too,” I admitted softly. The words, they hurt, jagged little things, but once they were out, I could exhale. Perhaps trying to ignore that need for weeks hadn’t been my wisest choice. “Maybe you’re the one who saved my Christmas.”
“Can’t it be both?” He rubbed his thumb against my palm. “We rescued each other. And now we don’t have to be alone for any of the other nine zillion holidays you celebrate.”
My laugh sounded a lot like Elaine’s had the day before, closer to a hysterical giggle than a normal chuckle. But it was either laugh or give in to the rising urge to weep. “You don’t have to suddenly embrace shopping and seasonal decor.”
“I would. For you.” He held my gaze, eyes as serious as I’d seen them. And not grumpy serious either. Solemn. Like he wasn’t kidding about wanting me around. Another giddy laugh escaped my chest even as he continued, “Making you happy, that’s important. So if bargain hunting makes you happy, let’s go.”
“Hmm.” I made a noncommittal noise. Laughter wasn’t the only escape valve for dealing with emotional overload. I glanced in the direction of my stairs before peering again at the frozen world outside.
“Gideon,” Paul groaned. “Stop looking like you’re trying to decide between hauling me back to bed upstairs with you and the shopping trip.”
Busted. My laugh this time was free and easy. “Can I have both?”
“You can.” Giving me a lusty grin, he jerked his head toward the stairs. “Maybe bed first?”
“You’re on.” Abandoning my coffee, I hustled away from the table, him close behind me. Outside, the temperatures were reaching record lows, but in here, things were about to get mighty toasty.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Our lights are a hopeless tangle. Does anyone have good light storage tips? I’d ask our local Holiday expert, but he’s not answering his messages! ~ Penny Jordan posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app
