Chapter 11
Leif
“Well, I guess this is ‘goodbye’?” Addy says, eyes large and soulful as she waits for my answer.
The lilt of her voice at the end made it sound like a question.
But it isn’t. Because she’s right. Matt, the town’s favorite plow driver, is here under orders from Koru to bring her home.
I don’t know how he knew she was here, but it doesn’t matter.
I kept her safe. The road is clear. The Solstice is over. When I don’t say anything, she squeezes my hand, mumbles something about returning my boots later, and swims through the snow to get to the plow truck.
She waves from the cab of the truck as it rumbles away. When I turn around, hating how painful it is to watch her leave, I realize I’m blocked. I still have a tree to deal with.
Once I wrestle it inside, I see the hedgehogs have set up home again.
At least this time they aren’t on my bed.
Relenting, I tell them they can stay as long as they don’t make a mess.
I set them up with a cozy basket under the tree that now sits in the front window beside the fireplace.
It’s nice. Addy was right; it does add something cheery to have a fresh evergreen inside.
As a way to take my mind off things—and by things I mean Addy—I prep more food then sit by the fire to enjoy my tree and read.
I’m halfway through a treasure hunt adventure, and though our librarian, Betty, didn’t say this was a romance, the ship has been overtaken by a chaotic woman and the grumpy orc captain is falling in love with her.
A weird buzzing sound pulls me out of my stewing about the book.
I don’t want to quit because it’s good, though I’m angry that there’s now kissing.
I don’t want to read about kissing. I want to kiss Addy.
And that thought is one thousand percent distracting.
I don’t want to read how some other orc falls head over heart in love with a woman who brings him to his knees.
Been there. Done that. And now she’s gone.
I mean, she’s on the island. I’m a professional in search and rescue; I could search for her, find her, tell her she’s mine and I’m never letting her go. The fringes of a plan come together, but the incessant buzzing keeps distracting me.
Book down, I begin a careful inspection of the room, trying to place the noise.
Damnit.
Inside the teens’ Santa sack of toys is a hedgehog.
And this adorable, formerly innocent, hedgehog has somehow turned on a vibrating dildo.
Oh look, it spins too! Pulling both it and the critter out of the bag, I ponder once again what I’m supposed to do with this sack of adult toys.
Turning off the vibrator, I refuse to think of using the vibrator against Addy’s clit.
Of teasing her with it. Of her riding the dildo while her mouth is on my cock.
Nope. Those thoughts are not allowed to live rent-free in my brain.
Maybe Santa should deliver one to every adult in town. That would be the start of a good time.
The hedgehog grunts at me, and I set it back in the basket with the others. As for the toys, I tie the bag up to keep any more curious hedgehogs out of it.
The clock chimes. Time to finish making the feast.
Funny, a few hours ago, I was excited to cook this traditional feast and share it with Addy. Now, it’s just the same chore it always was. There’s still time if I hurry.
Roasted meat. Mashed potatoes with extra butter.
Shepherd’s pie. Glazed roasted carrots. Sauteed Brussel sprouts with candied bacon.
Cranberries cooked into a sauce. Pumpkin pie made with one of Tarik’s pumpkins.
Southern pecan pie that makes my teeth hurt.
By the time the snow is shades of pink from the sunset, I’ve cooked all my family’s traditional favorites for the Solstice.
Driveway shoveled, truck cleared off, I’m ready to load up and deliver these foods.
The first basket of food is loaded into the running truck, trying to warm it up, when another rumble grows louder.
My heart does not skip a beat in hopes that some curvy goddess is back.
In fact, I refuse to even look at what I’m sure is just another run of the snowplow.
I poke a towel around the edges of the giant roasting pan, ensuring that the pan won’t move as I drive.
“Hey you! Where are you going?” Her voice is fresh spring green leaves on a tree after winter. I hate that all of me turns on in response to those six words—ready to spring into action, scoop her up, do whatever it takes to keep her with me.
I do not leap into action. Rather, I hit my head on the frame of the truck as I stand to stare at her, half hanging out the window of Koru’s truck as it pulls into my driveway behind me.
“Hey, I’m heading out to deliver food.”
“Our food?” She asks with an indignant glance. The truck stops, and she’s out before he can kill the engine and running as best she can toward me. She’s wearing boots that actually fit her feet.
I stand there, arms hanging dumbly at my sides, unable to process or guess what she’s going to do.
When she throws her arms around me, I continue to stand there like the dumbest orc in the world.
One, she’s wrapped her arms around mine, so I can’t hug her back.
Two, Koru is giving me a shit-eating grin from the cab of his truck. And three, I’m stunned that she’s here.
“Aren’t you going to hug me?” She looks up at me, not with bright happy eyes, but with a look of satisfaction. Satisfaction that my brain has short-circuited.
“Why are you here?” I manage to get out.
“I’m here for you! I brought a change of clothes and a toothbrush.”
“A toothbrush?” This seems to stump me in terms of logical explanations.
Letting go, she turns and shouts at Koru.
“Go get Poppy! He’s made a Solstice feast!
” Turning back to me, she says, “It smells delicious. Get it inside before it turns into a roast popsicle.” Without blinking, barely breathing, I do as she says.
She follows behind me, something big and heavy in her arms.
“What are you doing?” I ask after I’ve put the roasting pan in the oven on low to keep it warm. She’s sitting cross-legged in front of the tree with a big box and three hedgehogs helping her.
“Decorating,” is her one-word answer. I need a drink.
A few minutes later, I bring her a chai; I’m drinking chamomile, because I need to calm the fuck down.
She’s unpacked a box full of handmade ornaments.
Glitter, popsicle sticks, and pipe cleaners abound.
The sight of all the kid-made ornaments takes my breath away.
“This is your childhood,” I say, barely a whisper.
Addy looks up at me, her eyes glistening with tears. “Yeah. Poppy decorated more stylishly. These are mine, and I want to share them with you, if that’s okay.”
“I’ll be right back,” I say as I set my tea on the table beside the sofa.
By the time I’ve dug out our family’s box of decorations—a box I haven’t opened in years—and brought it back out, Addy is hanging ornaments while singing to herself. Her voice is beautiful, low and full. I can imagine her singing to orclings at night before bed.
“Here, now we combine,” I say as I set the bin next to hers. Addy looks from the box to me, her face glowing with a smile.
She teaches me her Christmas song, and I teach her a Solstice song as we decorate.
I don’t have any twinkly lights, but in the bottom of my box are candles, so we carefully place them on the branches and light them.
Stepping back, my arm holding her close to me, it’s the most beautiful hodge-podged tree I’ve ever seen. And it’s all ours.
“I really didn’t think you were coming back. I thought I was going to have to search you out,” I admit.
“I know. That’s why I had Koru drop me off first.”
“You knew?” I ask, skeptical.
“I knew you’d do something foolish, and I wanted to catch you first. Only I get to be the fool today.”
Pulling her in tight to me, loving all the softness and heat of her against me, we kiss.
A quick hello kiss. Followed by a long—I can’t believe you’re really here—kiss.
She tastes of her chai, spicy and fragrant.
When I run my fingers through her hair, I catch the scent of gingerbread and I’m instantly transported to last night. Needing more of last night.
“The hedgehogs now live under the tree. So, the bed is available,” I whisper as I whisk her up into my arms. She laughs, and I swear my heart feels whole for the first time.
Two steps toward the bedroom and there’s loud thumping on the porch outside. Followed by loud pounding on the door.
“I guess our Solstice dinner guests are here,” Addy says, smiling mischievously at me. “You’ll have to wait until later.” And with that, she pecks my cheek and slides out of my arms to open the door to more people than have ever been in my house at once before.