The Geek Who Saved Christmas

I wasn’t sure that being busy was enough of an excuse for not paying attention to the things Brandon found important, but he nodded. “Yeah. I remember now. Your business literally started at the kitchen table.”

“It did.” My jaw tensed. Damn it. What had I missed those years I was working every waking minute? And what about now? Had I failed to pay close enough attention again? What had I missed with Gideon? And more importantly, how could I make it right again?

“Hey. Don’t sweat it.” Brandon clapped me on the shoulder. “You showed up when it counted. That’s what really matters.”

Showed up. That was it. A sharp bolt of clarity raced through me, and I knew exactly what I had to do.

Chapter Thirty-Two

I’m so glad Boxing Day is a Saturday this year. Don’t forget to support our local small businesses if you’re out and about! ~Molly Reed posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app

Gideon

The knocking at my door woke me up. After my second ill-advised eggnog the night before, I had turned off my alarm, but apparently, the universe didn’t want me sleeping in. Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I swiped my doorbell app, expecting to see a package delivery, but instead, there was Paul, holding two coffee cups and looking decidedly uncomfortable,

Grabbing my robe and slippers, I hurried to the door while shoving my glasses on my face.

“Paul?” I opened the door wide, which was a mistake because outside even the air was crusty, the sort of cold where it hurt to take a full breath. “Get in here.”

“Gladly.” Paul was at least bundled up for the weather with a coat, gloves, hat, and boots. But even with all that, he still shivered as I ushered him in.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I shut the door. “It’s not even seven yet.”

“Aren’t you getting ready?” He frowned, gaze sweeping over my plaid robe and fuzzy slippers and undoubtedly bleary eyes. “I brought the coffee.”

“Ready?” I felt like we were in a play I no longer knew the lines to. Heck, I wasn’t sure I knew which act we were in with everything seeming far off-script. I did, however, accept one of the paper cups. “You got coffee out? You always drink yours at home.”

A rosy flush spread across his already pink-from-the-cold cheeks. “Yeah, well, you don’t like my brew, and it’s so cold, I figured you’d need it for the drive.”

“Drive?” I blinked again. What was I missing here? Maybe I’d had more to drink than I’d thought if I couldn’t follow Paul’s usually straightforward train of thought at all. “Maybe you should come sit down so I can let the caffeine start working on my brain.”

After removing his boots and coat, he followed me to my kitchen table, where I took several bracing sips of the coffee. And still couldn’t quite figure out what Paul was up to. “Did we have plans?”

“Well…not exactly. But the after-Christmas sales…you said you always go?” His face sagged. “I wanted to catch you before you went. I figured you’d already be up with a list of where to go and in which order.”

“I wasn’t in the mood this year,” I admitted before I took another drink of my coffee, which was vaguely minty. Apparently, Paul had paid attention to the times I’d ordered peppermint mochas around him. “I turned off my alarm. Too much eggnog last night.”

“Yeah? You should have come back over.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, but his eyes remained uncertain. “I have sleep cures that don’t involve hangovers.”

“You shoveled my walk.” I looked out the kitchen window at the frozen side yard and my bone-dry path to the garage. “Salted it too.”

“I did.” Voice matter-of-fact, he stretched his arms. “Didn’t want you slipping if you headed out early before I could come over.”

“You came to go shopping with me?” I tilted my head, considering this very un-Paul-like development.

“I thought I might.” A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Get a head start on next year. You can tell me what all I might need.”

“Because you want my help with next Christmas?”

“No.” Paul licked his lips as he darted his gaze everywhere but at me. “I mean, yes. Damn it. This is why I’m not good with words. I want you for next Christmas. The help is a bonus.”

“Oh.” My nervous system jolted as if the barista had snuck an extra quad shot in my coffee. Paul wanted me. And to go shopping. But me. He wanted me. I dug my fingers into my thigh. Yup. Definitely awake. But there had to be a catch. “And between now and then?”

Paul nodded solemnly. “There’s a lot of holidays I’ve been ignoring. I want you for all those too. Figured I might start by letting you talk me into the right kind of glasses for champagne for New Year’s. And last year you did some sort of heart wreath on the door for February. The easter bunny cutouts, those might startle Jim, but you can probably twist my arm into some spring flowers for my place.”

“You noticed my changing decorations?” My eyebrows shot up so high that the stretch was just short of painful.

“I notice a lot.” He shrugged, all his shoulder muscles rippling. “Maybe not as much as you and your eye for detail.”