“No problem.”
“But we really will have the best selection if we get there early.” He held out both coffees. “Left has cream, right is black. I can drink either.”
How on earth Gideon managed to make being flexible about his coffee preferences sound so sensual, I had no clue. Maybe my body wanted to remind me how I often spent the early hours on a Sunday, using the lack of an urgent wakeup for a little solo time. Not today, and now my sex drive was all haywire. And I had a full day of Gideon to get through.
“Black coffee is fine.” I grabbed the closest cup. “And you’re sure this is worth the trek to South Philly? We’ve got the various big-box options and downtown Evergreen and other stuff closer.”
“Trust me. You’ve never seen anything like this holiday outlet.” He stamped his feet, whether from the nippy air or excitement, I wasn’t entirely sure. “We’ll be able to cross a ton off your list. They even have sheets and seasonal linens!”
“Awesome.” I tried to sound suitably enthusiastic. After all, Gideon had made the ridiculously detailed list. He could have sent me on my own to the store, let me pick up the items needed. But apparently, he thought I needed company. “Thanks for coming along.”
“Oh, it’s no problem.” He followed my lead and got into the truck. I’d had it warming even before he’d emerged from his house with the coffee. “And it’s not that I don’t trust your selections, but—”
“You don’t trust my taste. It’s okay.” I took a sip of the coffee, which was extra-strong and bracing. Probably a French press or something similarly fussy. I got by fine with my ten-dollar old relic, but I couldn’t deny Gideon made good brew.
“No, it’s not okay.” Gideon sagged back against the seat dramatically. “I’m a terrible control freak. This is supposed to be your project. But when I get into something, I tend to micromanage every little detail.”
“Manage away.” I was dangerously close to telling him his bossiness was cute. I took another sip of coffee. “I’m good with letting you lead.”
“Really?” He brightened considerably.
“I have to have that same level of concentration on the job. I appreciate the attention to detail.” Gideon’s obsessive planning put my own organizational efforts to shame, but there was only so much praise I could dole out. I pointed the truck out of the neighborhood, which, despite the early hour, had more than one household out working on exterior decorations. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve done Christmas, and I’m way out of my element here. You’re the holiday expert, Mr. Holiday.”
“I am.” He preened, and my decision to get underway was a good one because the temptation to touch him was particularly strong.
“Letting you be the one with the opinions, it’s relaxing,” I admitted. Felt like I’d made enough tough calls and big decisions for two lifetimes. And I’d keep right on doing it. But if Gideon wanted to save me worrying about bedding patterns and garland length, more power to him.
“Well, in that case, I am full of opinions with a side of perfectionism. Leave it to me.” He did the closest thing to chair dancing I’d seen in years. His excitement made me want to give him more things to be decisive and bossy about. Whoa, easy there. Before I could get ahead of myself, I took the on-ramp to head toward Gideon’s preferred destination, a holiday outlet near the airport where people were already lined up and waiting when we arrived.
“See?” Gideon gestured at the crowd. “Early pays. With any luck, they’ll still have flocking.”
“Excuse me?” My brain was apparently still stuck on sex.
“Fake snow, Paul. You must need a good flocking.” He grinned wickedly, and yes, yes I did. “For your mantel. It’ll show off the stockings perfectly, and we’ll get one for Elaine.”
“If you say. You’re the boss.” I followed him out of the truck, our coffees long since finished and the morning possibly even colder than when we’d left.
“Don’t worry, I’ll remember the budget,” he promised as we stamped across the lot. “I have estimates by each item already, and the spreadsheet app on my phone will alert me if I start to go over.”
Nothing about Gideon should have surprised me at this point, but I still blinked. “You have an app for that?”
“I’ve got an app for everything,” he said, full of cocky swagger as we joined the line. “Including my lights. I can put one on your phone or add your setup to mine?”
“Whichever you prefer.” This not-deciding thing was awesome.
“Mine it is.” He grinned as he pulled out his phone, thumbing it open to a color-coded spreadsheet. “Told you. Control freak.”
“Don’t apologize.” I glanced at the list on his phone, where items were grouped by type. “Add candy canes to the list. Brandon was always nuts for them. I’d let him have a whole box to hang around the place, but they never lasted.”
“Three boxes. Check.” He added the request, then marched in place, shivering. I had the strangest urge to pull him against me, warm him up. The line was full of happy couples and excited families, more than one duo in matching coats and a number holding hands. If I grabbed Gideon’s hand, at least I could keep his fingers from freezing. But, of course, I didn’t.
“You want to get back in the truck?” I asked instead. “I can turn the heater on.”
“Thanks, but no. I don’t want to lose our spot in line.” He was all bluster and pink cheeks.
“Suit yourself, but I’m getting you something hot if they have a drink stand in there.”
“They do.” He sounded all pleased. It was just a drink. I’d do it for any freezing buddy.