Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
“ Y ou’re the prettiest elf I’ve ever seen,” a little boy said to her shyly as she handed him his treat bag following his visit with Santa. This was said in a whisper so that his mother, standing nearby, didn’t overhear.
Natalie grinned at him as she crouched to eye level. “I bet you say that to all of Santa’s elves,” she whispered back.
He considered her words for a moment, puckering his Cupid’s-bow lips. Then, “Maybe,” he relented. “Does that mean I’ll get an extra gift on Christmas morning?”
Natalie laughed. “No, but it means you get an extra cookie right now.” She led him over to the cookie table, giving Humphrey a wide berth on the way, and helped him choose a sugar cookie shaped like an ornament and decorated with red frosting and silver sprinkles. He took an enormous bite and grinned at her, his lips already stained red, and it was with no small measure of regret that she led him by the hand back to his mother.
Natalie had always wanted a little boy of her own. A girl, too, because wouldn’t that have been perfect? Wouldn’t that have been wonderful, if Devin hadn’t gone and ruined things. If he hadn’t destroyed, in one fell swoop, the carefully laid plans that she’d been building for so many years.
“Mommy, why is that elf so sad?”
Walter, hearing this, turned and raised his bushy eyebrows at her from beneath his Santa hat, and Natalie hurried to arrange her features into something less forlorn. Don’t scare the children, Natalie , she scolded herself. Don’t scar them with the harsh realities of life .
She plastered on a bright smile. “I’m not sad,” she said to the girl who had spoken, adding a wiggle of her prosthetic ears for good measure. She rubbed her stomach. “I just ate too many Christmas cookies,” she added with a wink. The girl laughed, and her mother grinned appreciatively, and Natalie was Peppermint the elf again, performing her holiday duties with good cheer.
No one—and certainly not this young girl—needed to know that she’d spent the entirety of last night weeping into her pillow. No one needed to know that, even now, she was dying a little on the inside.
But children could sense these things, Natalie knew, because the next child in line, a boy who couldn’t have been more than four, with chubby, angelic cheeks and ocean-blue eyes, shook his head when she offered him a treat bag. “You keep it,” he announced with an adorable lisp. “Candy always makes me happy, and there’s lots of it in there.”
She could have kissed that sweet face, but she settled for a hug instead, reveling in the warmth and comfort of those little arms around her. When she pulled away, she passed the treat bag over the boy’s head to his mother, who accepted it with a grateful smile, both women knowing he would probably regret his generosity the moment he stepped outside.
After that, Natalie did her best to perk up, though she didn’t fail to notice the concerned looks Walter and Carol Miller were slipping her way at every available opportunity. Finally, mercifully, the last child plopped herself onto Santa’s lap and began rattling off her list of Christmas wishes, ranging from a new pack of crayons to a unicorn she could ride to the moon. Walter listened with a twinkle in his eye and a faint smile on his lips, then deftly avoided promising her a unicorn before sending her on her way.
Natalie closed the door behind her, then turned to grab her coat, pretending not to notice Carol waving energetically from the cookie table, trying to get her attention. While she appreciated the concern, what Natalie needed most right now was to be alone, where she could unpack her thoughts… or pretend to, anyway, because in reality, Natalie was a master of avoidance. Self-preservation, she supposed, and really, could anyone blame her?
Peeling off her elf ears, Natalie headed toward the door, and was moments away from grabbing the handle when it was pushed open from the other side, letting in a frigid gust of winter air and one very cold-looking Gabe. “Hey,” he said, his entire face lighting up when he saw her. Those butterflies in her stomach took flight again, but she did her best to push them back down, because they meant nothing. He meant nothing.
“I was hoping to catch you before you left.” He gestured toward Humphrey, who was staring at them in stoic silence while slowly munching on a carrot. “Have the two of you made up yet?”
Natalie scowled at the reindeer. “We have not. I’m fairly certain he’s proud of what he did.” There had been a certain… pizzazz… to his kick, but fortunately, Natalie’s ribs were healing nicely, and the hoof-shaped bruise on her side was fading to a mottled yellow-green. She gave him another scowl, just for good measure, as Gabe chuckled.
“I hear he’s quite cuddly, actually.”
“Yeah?” Natalie cocked an eyebrow at him. “Then why don’t you step into his pen and see if he wants a hug.”
“Hard pass.” Gabe was looking at her now with that intensity that had become familiar, but no less disconcerting. “As much as I’d love a little one-on-one time with Santa’s best reindeer, I actually came here to see you.”
“Oh?” What were those butterflies doing in there, dancing the tango? Natalie pressed a subtle hand against her stomach and feigned nonchalance, even though that almost-kiss from last night was burning a hole in her mind. “What can I do for you?”
His smile was slow and soft, yet somehow red-hot, and Natalie crossed her arms over her chest to ward off the flame of desire that had suddenly ignited inside her. What was wrong with her? Okay, yes, he was a beautiful man, and apparently everyone in Chestnut Cove worshipped him, and he had been nothing but kind to her, a near-stranger, since the moment he found her abandoned on the side of the road, and…
Do you need any more reasons ? a voice in the very back of her mind asked slyly. Kiss him, you fool. KISS. HIM.
“Are you okay?” Gabe was studying her face intently, his lips curved down in a frown. “You look a little… constipated.” He grinned at her. “I can prescribe you something for that, you know.”
“Gee, thanks.” Natalie was torn between outright horror and the sudden, bizarre urge to laugh. She couldn’t make up her mind, so what burst from her lips was a sort of strangled snort-laugh, a sound she imagined might come from a hog in the throes of labor. Gabe raised his eyebrows in amusement, but to his credit, he remained silent, watching her with a mildly curious expression.
Then, after another beat of silence, “Having a bad day?”
Natalie shook her head. “You have no idea.” Having successfully rid herself of the elf ears, she slipped on her coat and buttoned it up to her neck in a vain attempt to conceal her costume. She’d quickly learned that a simple stroll down the sidewalk had children practically throwing themselves at her in ecstasy while rattling off their list of wishes they wanted her to pass along to Santa. Unfortunately, she’d once again forgotten a change of shoes, and as she and Gabe headed into the blustery air, she jingled with each step.
“Mind if I walk you back to The Mistletoe House?” Gabe asked. “I’m heading that way anyway—tonight is Holly’s late night at the café, so I need to swing by and pick up Sophie.” He grinned at her. “We’re having a gingerbread house contest at my place. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like. Although I have to warn you, things can get a little competitive.”
She hesitated. That all sounded wonderful—on the surface, at least. In reality, it would be a nightmare, conjuring up all sorts of memories for Natalie that were best left buried deep in the ground.
Gabe must have sensed her discomfort, because the smile immediately slipped from his lips, replaced with a look of chagrin. “Hey,” he said, shaking his head, “no pressure, okay? I’m sure you’re exhausted, and have had your fill of little kids for the day, and I probably shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s not that,” Natalie started to say, but then stopped herself. She and Gabe might have struck up a friendship over the past few days, but they still knew very little about each other, and frankly, Natalie needed to keep it that way. For her own sake, as well as his, because soon, she was leaving, and whatever spark of attraction they had would be nothing but a memory.
“Actually, yes,” she said, glancing sideways at him as they walked. Night was beginning to fall, the sky a gorgeous mauve highlighted with streaks of turquoise and gold, colors that could never be replicated on paper. “It’s been a long day, and I’m just going to grab a bite to eat and call it a night. But thank you for the invite, and for thinking of me.” She grinned at him, trying to lighten the mood. “Turns out playing Peppermint the elf is the hardest job I’ve ever had.”
“I had a feeling it might be,” Gabe said, “especially for a self-proclaimed hater of Christmas.”
“I don’t hate Christmas,” Natalie said. “I just have an… issue with it, I guess you could say.” She shrugged. “Not everyone loves all that festive stuff, you know. ”
Gabe chuckled. “I have literally never heard anyone say that before.” Now it was his turn to shrug. “But to each their own, I suppose. At any rate, I knew you were probably ready for a day off, so I arranged for you to have one tomorrow.”
“What?” Natalie stopped walking and stared at him. All around them, the trees in the town square twinkled softly with hundreds of strands of lights, casting a golden glow over his features. “Who’s going to play Peppermint for the day?”
“Faith Holiday.” Snow was beginning to fall around them, dusting the sidewalks in soft white. Gabe reached out a hand and lightly brushed away a snowflake that had landed on her nose, and under any other circumstances—in any other place, with any other man, in any other life—Natalie would have fallen in love with him on the spot.
“How did you manage to convince her to do that?” Natalie had a hard time squeezing the words past the lump in her throat. Gabe withdrew his hand, though his eyes continued lingering on her face.
“Let’s just say I owe her a favor or two around the inn.” Gabe’s dark eyes crinkled in the corners as his lips tipped up in a smile. “But before you go thinking I’ve done this out of the goodness of my heart, I should warn you… I’m not that selfless.”
“No?” Natalie asked, her voice gently teasing. “That’s not what I heard at the tree-lighting ceremony last night. When I first met you, I had no idea I was in the company of a god among men.”
Gabe inclined his head. “I try.” Then, grinning, he added, “Don’t you want to hear my ulterior motive?”
Natalie laughed. “Do I want to?” The snowflakes were collecting on his dark hair, glittering under the waning sunlight, and Natalie had to repress the urge to brush them away. She didn’t want Gabe falling for her. Just like she couldn’t let herself fall for him, because Chestnut Cove was not, and would never be, a place she could call home.
Gabe exhaled softly, as though steeling himself for something. Then, his eyes never leaving her face, he said, “I was hoping to take you out on a date. Not just a date, but a full-day extravaganza.”
“An extravaganza?” Natalie’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. “That sounds exciting. Or maybe terrifying. Honestly, I’m not sure how to feel.” She was flirting with him, despite her best efforts, because something about this man was electrifying. And that was terrifying. And exciting. And she was leaving , she reminded herself. She was leaving, and good riddance to this town of eternal Christmas, because even though she’d been playing the part since she arrived, her heart couldn’t take much more of this.
“So… what do you think?” Gabe asked, cocking his head. “Are you game?”
“Oh, I’m game,” Natalie found herself saying—all rational thought seemed to have left the building. “I’m absolutely game.”