Chapter 22
22
GRANT
“Are you sick?” Mom asked, putting a hand on my forehead.
“Of course not,” I muttered, waving off her ministrations. “I’m fine. I’m just tired and I figured I’d head home.”
“Before pie?” she asked, as if such a choice put my entire health and mental wellbeing into question.
“I didn’t realize, Mom,” I lied. In fact, while I loved pumpkin pie, it was the taste of Tessa I craved right now. From her lips, to that spot where her neck met her shoulder, down to the very center of her—I wanted to taste it all tonight. The woman in question would not approve of this explanation, though, so the lie seemed judicious. “I’d love some pie.” Across from me, Tessa’s lips were tilted in a tiny smile, as if she was wholly unperturbed by yet another hold-up. I’d wanted to leave an hour ago.
“Okay, one minute, honey,” Mom said.
“I think you should use the knife to get the first slice out. It’s always such a mess,” Juliet said.
“You know what I have?” Mom asked. “One of those pie servers that’s a knife on the side but it’s also a server. Got it at Williams Sonoma.”
“Does it work?” Juliet’s eyes were wide with excitement. “I love Williams Sonoma.”
I let my gaze slip back to Tessa, who was having an even harder time hiding her smile. Then I slipped out my phone.
Grant: You’re gonna pay for that smile
I typed it and sent it quickly, all before our mothers had finished their insipid pie-cutting-turned-Williams-Sonoma conversation. I saw the moment Tessa’s watch vibrated. She looked down and her smile deepened.
Mom dug out the first slice of pie and it fell onto the plate in three pieces. “Dammit,” she muttered.
“I’ll take it, Mom. I don’t care. It’ll all taste amazing, I’m sure.”
Mom smiled at me. “You’re so sweet, Grant,” she said.
Alex coughed, “suck up,” from across the table, and I shot her a look. I hadn’t realized she’d been paying any attention to me, and hoped she hadn’t witnessed my text.
I wolfed down the pie, but the act didn’t make the rest of the table any faster, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to rush out while everyone was still having dessert.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever stay up for midnight mass,” Mom said with a chuckle, a familiar refrain that had been heard nearly every year since I was a boy.
“You can skip it,” I reminded her, standing and collecting plates from Ethan and Nora, who were both done with their slices of pecan pie.
Mom made a tutting noise. “I want to go. Jules and I are going to go together. You know, the music is great.” Mom had been trying to convince us to go to midnight mass using the “music is great” argument since we were old enough to refuse going to church. As far as I was concerned, it would take a Beatles/Elvis/Nirvana zombie-concert to make me even consider sitting through midnight mass.
“I should get going. I haven’t even started wrapping my presents,” I said, leaning on the back of Alex’s chair.
“Okay,” Mom said, standing. “We’re doing one pm tomorrow at our place, okay?”
“Sounds good,” I said, pulling Mom in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas. Enjoy mass.”
I hugged each Dupree and Davis in turn, my fingers splaying over Tessa’s back when I pulled her in, then I headed out the door, waving as I pulled it shut. I yanked my phone out of my pocket and tapped out a quick text.
Grant: Call and I’ll pick you up. It’s freezing out.
A little thumbs up came in reply, and I smiled as I ducked into my car and pulled the door closed behind me.
The tap on my kitchen door startled me, and I jumped, looking up to see Tessa under the dim porch lamp. I turned the lock, ushering her in with one arm. “Did you walk here? Why didn’t you call? It’s freezing.”
Her jaw was clenched tight, and a chill wracked her, making her words come out choppy. “It’s so much colder than I thought.” She let out a tiny laugh. “I should’ve called.”
“Yeah, you should’ve,” I replied, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. Her coat was cold against my skin. “Let’s take this off. I started a fire in the family room. We can get you warmed up.” I helped Tess strip off hat, gloves, coat, and boots, then guided her to the fireplace.
She knelt down in front of it, rubbing her hands together. “This feels divine,” she murmured, still shivering.
“I’ll be right back,” I replied, walking down the hall to the master bedroom and scooping up all of the bedding. I returned with an assortment of pillows, blankets, and the thick duvet. I wrapped the latter around her shoulders.
“Sit with me,” she said, her eyes, usually such a deep green, seeming to glow in the firelight as she blinked up at me. I slid my body next to hers, wrapping an arm around her to rub her opposite shoulder as Tessa threw the blanket over both of us.
“Why didn’t you call me so I could pick you up?” I scolded.
Tess chuckled. “Everybody’s got their Christmas lights on. I thought the walk from my house to yours would be pretty. I didn’t realize it was so cold.”
I tilted my head to the side until my skull bonked hers playfully. “You and the lights.”
“Grinch,” she said affectionately.
“You’re making me less of a grinch. I walked down Crescent the other day and enjoyed the decorations.”
“It’s a slippery slope,” Tessa warned, doing her best to keep the laughter out of her voice. “Next thing you know you’ll be wearing Santa Claus union suits to bed every Christmas Eve.”
“What the hell is a union suit?”
“Y’know, one piece pajamas with a flap for using the bathroom,” she explained.
I snorted. “No union suits.”
“Way to take a stand on the important stuff,” she joked.
“I could enjoy the lights, though. I know we can’t walk around town together, but I wouldn’t mind walking through the park and enjoying the trees with you.”
She hummed softly, a thoughtful noise I couldn’t make heads or tails of. “It’s too damn cold. We’d freeze to death.” She sat up, twisting to look at me. “But I’ve got something just as good.”
I brushed the hair from her cheek tenderly. “Tell me.”
Instead of explaining, she took my hand and shifted us until we sat with our back to the Christmas tree, smoothing the large duvet over our laps. “Lay down like this,” she explained, shimmying under the tree until her head rested on the plush tree skirt. I joined her, wiggling under until I was directly next to her.
We lay, looking straight up through the tree branches as the lights of the tree shifted from white to gold to colors and back again. “What do you think?” Tess asked.
“It’s pretty. I like it.”
“Me too. When did you decide to use the color setting on your lights? I thought you only liked white lights?”
“I bumped it while I was turning it on and was too lazy to fix it,” I admitted.
Tessa laughed, a big, bright sound that made me smile. “You’re supposed to tell me a lie about how I’ve awoken the Christmas spirit in you.”
My eyes widened. “Well, that too, obviously, it’s just…”
“Oh stop it, Grinch.”
“I’m not joking. I mean, I did turn the color lights on by accident, but it’s because of you I sat down and watched them change for a while. It’s because of you I strolled through the trees on Crescent. Being with you makes me like those things more.”
Tess tilted her head until it rested on my shoulder. “Does anyone else on earth know how sweet you actually are?”
“My mom,” I replied without thinking, and Tessa laughed.
“My mom also seems quite enamored of you, but that wasn’t exactly what I meant.”
I was smiling, though I knew she couldn’t see me. It didn’t matter, Tess always made me smile. “I kinda realized that as I spoke,” I admitted. For a few minutes we lay in silence, staring up at the ever-changing lights. “Tess?” I said finally, tentatively.
“Hmm?”
“I got you a present. I don’t know if you’ll like it, though.”
“Grant,” Tess exclaimed, knocking into the lowest branches of the tree as she sat up abruptly. “You weren’t supposed to get me anything! I didn’t know we were doing presents. I don’t have anything for you.”
I sat up far more cautiously, weaving around the tree. “It’s not a big thing, Tess. You’ll probably hate it, and you did get me a gift—you got this tree.” She’d given me far more than that, she’d given me her . Most of her, at least, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Reaching under my tree, I pulled the tiny box out and set it in her palm. It was smaller than her hand, neatly wrapped in brown paper with twine as its only decor, and she unwrapped it with delicate fingers, pulling the twine first, before slipping a finger under each flap of paper and freeing the box from its wrapping.
I watched her avidly. I had no idea if she’d like the gift or if it would be “too much” for her. I’d been told I was “too much” by countless women in the past, women who weren’t half as smart as Tess.
Realistically, though, maybe it would be better if she hated the gift. If she hated it I would know she didn’t understand me at all, and ending this might finally be easy. If she loved it as much as I suspected she would, breaking up would only become more impossible.
Tess gently lifted the lid from the box and parted the tissue paper to reveal the gift.
And for many moments she was frozen.
I didn’t speak either, holding my breath and waiting to see if Tess would offer any greater reaction than silence.
She ran a single finger over the delicate points of the tiny Christmas tree where it lay nestled in the box, then looked up at me. “It’s mine,” she said. The words were a statement rather than a question, and I nodded my head. It was a perfect miniature of the Christmas tree in Tessa’s living room, right down to the sprinkling of painted ornaments. My favorite was the little plastic icicle painted in the spot of honor at the top of the tree.
“Thank God I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts,” Tessa said finally, and though I tried not to frown, my brow dropped quizzically. “This is the most thoughtful gift any human has ever gotten me. Nothing I could’ve given you would’ve compared.”
“My tree was every bit as thoughtful. It was the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” I replied honestly.
Tessa slipped the ornament from its box, rolling it in her palm to look at all the sides. “This is better than the tree I bought you. You even captured the ornaments I hung on the back side. How did you do that? Those are practically hidden.”
“I pay attention to detail,” I replied matter-of-factly.
She chuckled. “That’s a borderline creepy thing to say, Grant.”
“Is it? I don’t mean?—”
She cut me off with a hand on my chest. “I know.” Her thumb ran back and forth softly, barely noticeable through my sweater, but I noticed everything about Tessa.
I cupped her cheek. “I know you do. You seem to be the only person on Earth who understands me.”
“C’mere,” she said in reply, fisting her hand into my shirt and pulling me off balance as she laid down. I let go of her to catch myself, leaving me hovering above her.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, staring down into her green eyes, and I was tempted to say more— you’re perfect, you’re the only woman I could ever want, I love you.
“So are you,” she replied, stroking a hand down my cheek. “I like this scruff.”
“You like my beard?” I asked.
“Sure. I like both.”
It was silly—I’d never thought much about whether I looked better with a beard, I’d simply let one grow every so often, but now I knew I’d be thinking about Tessa every time I looked in the mirror. “Do you want me to keep it?”
“The beard?” Her lips tilted up in a smile I couldn’t resist, and I dropped my lips to hers, swallowing whatever answer she was about to give.
Tessa arched up and my arm looped behind her back, pulling her closer and deepening our kiss. I knew she was meant to be temporary, but I couldn’t imagine settling for another woman after I’d experienced Tess. I sure as hell couldn’t imagine seeing her with another man. “You’re mine, Tess,” I growled against her lips, and she hummed in agreement.
“Completely,” she said, tossing an arm around my neck and pulling me in for another bruising kiss.