Chapter 30
Noelle
Ihad a feeling Ralph struggled with units of distance because I wanted my current lover at least twenty miles away from any date I was on. Even if it was a fake date.
Aside from being fake, this was also the most public date I’d ever been on. I’d noticed several people taking photos on their cell phones, and one casually walking by holding a Polaroid camera. Fredrik had taken his usual corner table, a good fifty feet from us, but I could feel his eyes on me.
Why was he making this so difficult?
I sipped my mulled wine, nodding at Ralph’s long-winded story of how he might make a good private detective and why he might consider this as a future career path.
“I know most of them are ex-cops, but maybe there’s room for one slightly unconventional one?
It’s all about marketing, isn’t it? Finding the right angle.
Like, what makes you stand out? If I were psychic, that’d be a piece of cake.
Maybe I could allude to that without saying it.
Like… he’s very astute, often mistaken for being psychic… ”
Was he talking about himself in the third person?
“You’re right. Marketing is probably the hard part. I can’t imagine there’d be that much private detective work available in a small town.”
“I could expand to the neighboring towns,” he mused, taking a sip of his matching drink.
He’d told me it would look better if we ordered the same thing, like we were totally in sync. Which we totally were.
“What are you looking for in a woman?” I asked him, desperate to change the subject. “Other than peach-colored clothing?”
He laughed. “Oh, yeah. My mom’s crazy about the color peach. We have peach curtains and bedspreads and towels. Everything. I figured she’d like a girl who was wearing peach.”
“You want someone who gets along with your mom?”
“Well, I have a sweet deal. I’m not going to move out anytime soon. So I guess they would have to get along.”
“Makes sense.”
“And she should be hot. A total smoke show. Like high heels and a dress. No offense.”
I suppressed my amusement, glancing at my loose-knit sweater. “That’s okay. I didn’t bring the smoke machine.”
“You’re funny, though. That’s good, too.” He reached across the bar to touch my hand.
Despite the general noise level and Christmas music, I could practically feel Fredrik gasp across the room.
Well, he’d agreed to this. He’d just have to deal with it. I pulled my hand away from Ralph’s grasp, trying to look like I wasn’t rejecting him and only adjusting myself on the barstool. I rested my elbow on the bar and smiled. “Do you know how many people are staring at us right now?”
“At least ten,” Ralph replied without missing a beat. “It’s working.”
“How much longer do you want to keep going?”
“Maybe five minutes,” he said.
We kept talking about potential hairstyles for him until he informed me it was time for him to make his exit. I sighed with relief.
And that was when it happened.
Ralph stood, reaching for a hug. As I slid off my stool to meet him, he stumbled over his tail and pitched forward, hands first. Without the foam claws, his bare palms landed squarely on my chest.
“Whoa—” I staggered back, trying to steady him, but he grabbed at my neckline for balance, yanking my sweater down as he flailed. My ass hit the barstool, knocking it over with a clatter. I braced for Ralph to crash to the floor.
He didn’t.
Fredrik had him by the scruff of his costume, holding him upright like he weighed nothing. His voice cracked like a whip. “What the hell are you doing?”
Ralph’s eyes went wide. “Nothing! It was an accident—”
Fredrik’s fist cut him off. One sharp crack to the face, and Ralph folded, sprawling on the floor like a rag doll.
“No!” I screamed, rushing forward. “He’s just clumsy. He didn’t mean—”
Fredrik’s hand clamped around my arm. “You’re coming with me.” He yanked me toward the door, not slowing even as people turned to stare. Camera flashes popped at the edge of my periphery—God, we were being recorded.
The cold outside slapped me awake. I tried to twist myself free. “Stop! I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s okay—”
“He’s fine. That ridiculous costume cushioned his fall. He’ll have a black eye, and I’ll apologize later. But right now, I need you to come with me.”
Even furious, his tone carried a strange calm. He still wouldn’t release me.
“Are you seriously manhandling me right now?” I snapped.
His face went red, and his expression shifted, as if he was suddenly sobering up. He let go of my arm. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like this. You can go, if you want. I’m sorry.”
Fury stormed through me. “For fuck’s sake! You sucker punch my date and drag me outside, and now you’re going soft? Finish what you started!”
“Finish?” He glanced back at the bar door, baffled. “You want me to kill him?”
I nodded toward Main Street. “No! I want you to take me to your car. Tie me up and fuck me like you mean it. Or are you telling me I inspire just enough caveman instinct to punch the guy, but not to steal the woman?”
His eyes blazed. “Is that what you want?”
“Is that what a caveman asks?”
I saw something shift again behind his eyes. I was giving him permission. Daring him. He threw a firm arm around my shoulders, steering me down the sidewalk. People were still watching. Whispering. But I didn’t care. His claim on me felt fierce and solid. I loved it.
We drove in silence. At first, I thought he’d dump me at the bookstore, but he kept going, turning toward his house.
My phone found reception somewhere along the way and pinged with messages.
Felicity: I think your secret’s out.
Kailee: I’ve never seen Uncle Teddy like that! That was so sick.
Lola: You have to explain this video I just saw on the town group chat. By the way, your bra is showing, but don’t worry, no nipple, and the red lace looks amazing.
I pressed the phone to my chest, mortified. “There’s already a video online. Everyone’s seen my underwear.”
“I’m sorry,” Fredrik said hoarsely. “I wasn’t fast enough.”
“It wasn’t your job to stop it.”
“I should have stopped it earlier. I should never have let you go out with him.”
“We’re just friends—”
“No, we’re not. We’re obviously not.” His head bowed. “I can’t do this. I couldn’t even watch you with him.”
He parked in front of his house. The lone yard light painted him in silver and shadow. He looked broken.
“Okay,” I said, heart hammering. “What do you want, then? To be my possessive boyfriend?”
His head jerked up, green eyes searching mine.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
“A little,” I admitted. Embarrassing, yes, but true. No one had ever looked at me like that, like I was worth fighting for. Worth losing control over.
Once we were inside, he started a fire. We sat shoulder to shoulder on the rug, peeling bark for kindling. His voice was low and rough. “Now you know. I’m not a friends-with-benefits guy. I’m the sucker who falls hard and gets his heart broken.”
I stroked his worn jacket sleeve. “I’m falling for you too. I don’t know what it means, but we’ll figure it out. Don’t ask me to promise—”
“Maybe we just see how it goes?” His eyes lifted, suddenly bright with hope. “Because right now, there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”
Heat swelled through me. “Same here. And if it makes any difference… you’re not a sucker. You’re brave and passionate.”
His mouth curved, gaze darkening. “Like a caveman ruled by his limbic brain?”
“Then I’m just as bad because it turns me on.”
Something sparked in his eyes. He pushed me onto my back, his weight solid above me. “What did you want me to do? Tie you up and fuck you like I mean it?” The words sounded strange on his lips, like his body rejected them.
I smiled. “Could you? Pretty please?”
“You… delinquent,” he whispered, his voice tender and eyes liquid with emotion.
He pinned my wrists above my head and lowered down to kiss my neck. My breath hitched, and heat rushed through me.
Maybe we’d both get our hearts broken, but this moment was worth any future pain.
I was mesmerized by his transformation. From all the arguments and agreements to this moment of surrender.
A leap of faith. I wanted this moment more than I cared about what came after.
The future was probably fucked anyway, and it felt good to narrow my vision.
It was just us, lying on a rug by the fire, his weight on top of me, his eyes soft and playful as he took his time.
I was desperate for him. Desperate to feel as close as I could, with nothing between us.
For the rest of the night, we didn’t check our phones.
We didn’t discuss the videos, photos, or what was happening in the town chat or on the internet.
Maybe we both wanted to escape and feel intact, for as long as we still could.
The fallout of that night’s events was already in motion.
I knew it. He knew it. It was as inevitable as the snow coming from the sky.
But we still had time. We could still play house a little while longer.
Early the following morning, when I woke up in his bed, my leg wrapped around him, I remembered something.
“Fredrik. Fredrik.” I nudged his side.
“What?” He pulled me into him, kissing my forehead.
“Can I use your kitchen to make fifteen pounds of pulla?”