The Geek Who Saved Christmas

“Gideon.” With a mighty roar, Paul grabbed me right before I reached the edge, hauling me back up and onto the roof. We landed in a heap together on the flat space by the dormer. “Fuck. Fuck. Are you okay?”

“Never better.” I smiled at him. I was probably in shock, but his arms were still around me, and I wasn’t sprawled out on his front lawn, so life was pretty damn good if you asked me.

“Liar. We’re getting you inside.” He hustled me in through the window, pulling at my askew coat. “Let me see how bad you got scraped. Fuck. Your knee is bleeding. I told you those shoes weren’t up to the job. You could have broken your fool neck.”

His face was ghostly pale, eyes stricken as he removed my coat and examined my various injuries, tone growing ever more alarmed. Maybe I wasn’t the only one in shock.

“But I didn’t,” I assured him, pushing at his shoulder. “Paul. I’m okay. I didn’t fall. You saved me.”

“Almost didn’t.” He’d removed his gloves, and his fingers were warm against my scraped-up side. “I’m going to need to patch you up.”

It had been thirty-five odd years since anyone had shown this level of concern over my welfare, and that it was him, my grumpiest of neighbors, had my eyes stinging.

“Thank you.” I tilted his face up so he’d stop searching me for new wounds. But that brought his face level with mine, his bristly chin in my hands, hazel eyes cloudy with pain like he was the hurt one, mouth parting like he was going to deliver more scolding.

And I did the only thing that made sense and slid my mouth over his.

Chapter Eleven

Needed: Snowblower battery pack. The snow is finally sticking, and the rechargeable battery for our snowblower won’t charge. Anyone have a spare? Don’t want to be without a blower in the morning! ~Ricky Adams posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app

Paul

Gideon kissed me. Or maybe I kissed Gideon. I was a little fuzzy on the order of events, what with Gideon almost breaking a leg. Or worse. I didn't want to think about worse. What I wanted, apparently, was to kiss Gideon. My heart felt ready to pound out of my chest, the way his scent and warmth revved my engine. I was an eight-cylinder diesel cutting through a frozen January morning. And I hadn’t realized how chilled to the bone I was before I had Gideon in my arms. He was as messy as I'd seen him, clothing all twisted, skin scraped and bruised, hair a rumpled wreck.

And he had never been hotter. Alive. Vital. In one piece. But he kissed like a dying, desperate man.

I couldn’t get enough.

My grip tightened on his torso. He was smaller than me, but solid. Compact energy, a spark plug, and lord did he light me up. He purred, arching into my touch while cradling my face as though I were the one at risk of bolting. His fingers dug into my jaw, holding me there.

Bossy man. Even his kisses were brash, taking charge with his soft lips and demanding tongue. His brand of bossiness was so damn appealing, at least to me, and I relaxed into his touch, let his soft mouth show me what he wanted, needed from me.

And he did, his bossy demands meaning less guesswork for me. More going along for the ride as Gideon kissed and kissed me until I was trembling like I was the one who had nearly fallen to my doom. I clung to him, bodies pressed so closely together that I could feel each inhale and gasp as if they were my own. And still, I needed more.

He backed me up against the wall, and I ate up every bit of contact. He sucked on my tongue, and I almost came in my pants. The surge of pleasure was so strong that my hips shot forward, rubbing against him. I swept a hand up his side, trying to gather him even nearer.

“Ah.” He made a pained noise that worked like a bucket of ice water dumped over us both. Damn it. He was injured. How had I forgotten that? I broke away from the kiss, dropping my hands from his scraped side.

“Sorry. Sorry.” I straightened his clothes like that could make up for this lapse in judgment.

“I’m fine.” Gideon batted my hands away. “Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” I lied, shaky voice giving me away and making Gideon laugh.

“Yes, you are.” He patted my cheek. “And we still have reindeer to secure, cookies to eat, and lights to admire. You having a meltdown isn’t going to help.”

My ears buzzed with how fast his brain could switch directions. “You’re thinking about the reindeer? Now?”

My own mind was still locked on that kiss, the taste of him still fresh on my tongue, lips extra sensitive, and I sure as hell hadn’t been thinking of a to-do list during. I supposed I should be glad he was being mature and not dwelling on the kiss, but his composure irritated the fuck out of me.

“We can’t leave them half-done.”

I was more than half-done myself. “So I’m supposed to pretend I didn’t just maul you?”

“I kissed you.” Gideon’s tone was all patient and reasonable and utterly maddening. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t actively demand.”

“This is true.” Hell, even the reminder about his bossy ways had me most of the way hard again.