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“She’ll say yes.” If nothing else, I could say that. Elaine seemed head-over-heels for my brother, beaming in every selfie they took and delighting in their shared research. She did little things, like remind Brandon to eat, and they’d been living together for a couple of years now, so I figured a yes was a pretty safe bet.
“Hope you’re right. I picked out the ring online at an exclusive place in downtown Philly that specializes in rare alloys. It won’t be ready until the twenty-third, but that should work out. I hope. And see, that’s why this plan is so good. You always calm me down.”
“I try.” And I did, but I had to find a way to tell him that my place was hardly Christmas ready. No tree. And he wanted to see a lit-up neighborhood. Fuck. They were both going to notice my lack of lights. I better fess up right now though. “My house—”
“Brandon! We’re about to watch a movie in the theater room.” Elaine’s voice sounded off in the distance.
“Oops. Gotta go.” Brandon’s voice took on the same sort of lovesick tone he got whenever Elaine was nearby. “I’ll text you the flight details when I have them.”
“Okay.” I was still more than a little dazed by this turn of events. “But I should warn you, the place…”
“Paul. You’re such a perfectionist.” Brandon laughed, then laughed again, higher-pitched like Elaine had tickled him or something. Their easy intimacy made my jaw tighten.
“It’s not that—”
“Whatever renovation you’re in the middle of, it’ll be fine. And you’re the neatest guy I know. Don’t worry about the mess.”
Oh, this was a mess all right, just not the kind he was assuming. “Mess isn’t the—”
“Brandon, come on.” Elaine interrupted again.
“We’ll talk soon,” Brandon hurriedly assured me. “It’ll all be fine. You’re going to love Elaine.”
I didn’t doubt that. Whether she loved visiting Philadelphia, now that was the real question. And she better damn well say yes. Brandon deserved a yes. Hell, I’d all but guaranteed him one. But how was he supposed to pull off the perfect Christmas proposal here?
Chapter Five
Emergency! Our air compressor bought the farm. Anyone have one we can borrow for all these Christmas inflatables? ~Jeff Reed posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app
Paul
Returning to my kitchen table, I sat for a long time, trying to make sense of the conversation with Brandon. I couldn’t tell him not to come. But fuck it all, I was unprepared for this, and if there was one thing I hated even more than pity, it was being unprepared.
I needed a damn drink, but there was nothing stronger than beer in the house. And naturally, the universe chose that moment to make my doorbell sound. Jim at my heels, I padded to the front door. And somehow, I knew exactly who it was even before I looked through the curved window on the top of the door.
Gideon.
Fuck. I did not want to talk to anyone, him especially, but I couldn’t exactly pretend to not be home. And I had lectured him about being up on that roof alone. What if he needed help? I couldn’t turn him away only to have him risking his neck again.
“Yes?” I opened the door to find him standing there holding a plastic container. The air had a decided bite to it, but he had only a fleece pullover on.
“Hi.” His smile was winning as ever, but I couldn’t find the energy to return it. Best I could do was a nod. “I wanted to say thank you again for the rescue.”
“No problem.”
“And I know you said no to sharing my pie, but Cheryl brought a giant one over with her famous butter crust.” He held the container out. “No way can I do it justice. So I brought you a piece. You can freeze it if you’d rather.”
“Okay.” I accepted the container, suddenly tired all the way down to my toenails. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I was being rude. Ruder than usual, at least. Fuck. “Sorry. Thanks. Appreciate it.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Gideon narrowed his eyes right as Jim pressed up against my leg. Taking a step back, Gideon continued to study me. “You’re pale.”
“Me? Sure. I’m great.” Earlier, I’d managed a hearty tone for Brandon, but here it came out all strained. Jim thrust her shaggy head past the doorframe, making Gideon look further alarmed. I made a shooing motion. “Jim, go lie down.”
“You don’t look great.” Naturally, Gideon didn’t seem inclined to drop his questioning and head back to his warm house. As seemed his custom, almost every light was on over there, unlike the dark living room behind me. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but if you need anything—”
“I don’t.”
He smiled sadly, like he’d expected my quick refusal. “Well, I’m here. If you need a favor or someone to listen…”
