The Geek Who Saved Christmas

by Annabeth Albert

“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 tha...

We held hands on the trek to the mattress store, but he dropped mine in his excitement as we entered the store. “Look! Big year-end clearance.” He pointed to a sign. “Find me a bargain suitable for my ancient back,” I ordered as he launched himself onto the nearest bed, spreading out like a snow angel. “Will do. And not this one. Too firm.” “No such thing.” I offered him a hand up and settled in to enjoy watching Gideon have the thrill of the hunt. Naturally, Gideon got the life story of the clerk who arrived to help us, passing out holiday dinner tips in between testing other mattresses and trying to wrangle deals. We made our way from the cheap box spring models to higher beds with fluffy tops and price tags discreetly hidden. Even I got into the spirit of trying, and lying next to Gideon on a plush mattress with the helpful salesperson hovering nearby was definitely one of the more surreal experiences of my life. “Your sides each adjust individually. A ton of spouses love that feature.” The clerk showed off matching controllers. He was young and earnest, and like the rest of the world, entirely too eager to marry Gideon and me off. “Ah…” Sitting up, I made a strangled sound. Spouses? We were barely…huh? I couldn’t finish that thought. We weren’t a couple, but this sure as hell felt like something other than hooking up. “He’s not that picky,” Gideon covered smoothly for me before turning to me and lowering his voice. “Get what you want. This one is super comfortable, but...

“Now dessert.” I grabbed the brown bag I’d brought in with me off the counter. “I was wondering what was in the bag.” He shut the dishwasher and dried his hands. “A big slice of checkerboard cake to share.” I held up the cake and then removed the other two items, watching closely for his reaction. “Condoms?” he asked as a big grin spread across his face. “And lube. I came prepared to break in your bed.” We’d had a lot of fun thus far with hands and mouths, but the new bed seemed as good an occasion as any to mix things up. Since we were both coming off dry spells, I hadn’t wanted to leave him having supplies up to chance. The cake was simply a happy bonus. “I see.” Paul’s gaze was so hot it was a wonder my vision didn’t steam up. “Tell me the dessert can wait.” “The cake can definitely wait. But I’m bringing it with us.” I grabbed two forks from his silverware drawer. “I have a feeling I’m not going to want to move after.”

“I’m planning to make sure of it.” He winked at me before we both headed up the stairs. Stopping in his open doorway, I let out a delighted gasp at how the room was transformed. “Ooh, it’s so big.” “Flattery gets you everywhere, but I haven’t even undressed yet.” Paul bent to kiss the back of my neck. Plucking the cake out of my hands, he set it on the nightstand along with the supplies. “Hush. Let me properly admire your bed.” I walked around it slowly, petting the fuzzy blanket and moose sheets before I added my glasses to the collection on the nightstand. They had a tendency to go missing with Paul around, and I didn’t want to have to hunt them later. “You even put the new bedding on.” “Figured I might as well.” That he blushed over having prepared the bed was the cutest thing ever and made my chest as soft and warm as the new blanket. “I like it,” I pronounced as he peeled back the covers. “I like you.” Standing next to me, he kissed me tenderly and so carefully that I had to work to avoid swooning like a Victorian virgin. My chest felt more light and fizzy than a bottle of New Year’s Eve bubbly. This wasn’t my first time, but Paul had a way of making everything seem brand-new again.

“Clothes off,” he ordered as he released me, already peeling off his own shirt. “Thought I was the bossy one.” I laughed as I added my own garments to the growing pile on his chair. “You are.” As soon as both of us were naked, he tumbled me onto the bed. “Tell me what you like best.” “You.” I liked him. I liked him asking. I liked the way he listened even more. I liked his new bed and the soft flannel sheets. But I utterly loved Paul Frost flat on his back, loved how willingly he let me reverse our positions until I was straddling his waist and holding his face so I could kiss him again. “This. I like this.” “Me too.” He made a show of lying there all obediently while we kissed, bare chests rubbing together, my cock dragging against those amazing abs of his. But as always, I was impatient to get to the good stuff, and I was the first to reach for the lube. Paul laughed, but he didn’t try to take it from me. “Do I get to play, or am I supposed to lie here and look pretty and let you do all the wor...

“Fuck.” He ran his hands up my thighs. “You’re killing me, Gideon.” “I suppose you could play for a second.” I handed him the lube. “Yes, your highness.” Chuckling, he explored my rim with slick fingers that felt way better than my own. I never had much patience for a ton of prep, but his fingers were long and blunt, and one had me gasping while two lit me up, pressure so good. “More.” I rocked down to meet his fingers “Fuck. You feel amazing.” “You too,” I panted, what little patience I had evaporating with each thrust of his fingers, deep but not deep enough. “Going to feel even better on your dick.” I grabbed the box of condoms, loving how he groaned and strained toward me. “Fuck yes.” As soon as he withdrew his fingers, I opened a condom and rolled it on his cock. Even with this, he didn’t try to take over, letting me lube him up and position us both to my liking. I wanted thi...

“It’s your show.” Paul folded his hands behind his head, the picture of serene control. So much power in his chiseled body, and he was handing it all over to me. “Do whatever you want.” His supplication encouraged me to try again, holding his shaft in one hand while I lowered down. Teasing myself with the tip, like he was a toy, had us both moaning. “Sadist.” His chuckle was tight, but his hips stayed riveted to the bed even as he complained. “Probably gonna end me for real. Enjoy the cake and take care of Jim for me.” “Ha.” Laughing worked even better than teasing for getting my body to relax. I slid farther down, seeking the right angle where the burn turned sweet and hot. Lower. Enough to remove my hand. I canted my hips, still searching, then a sharp explosion of pleasure had all our laughter turning to moans. “There. Okay. That’s better.” “Fuck yeah, it is.” Paul’s gaze was hot and needy as I found a rhythm that had us both panting. “More.” Taking him at his word, I found the angle and pace that pleased me best, but his moans matched mine. The way he watched my every move...

“This?” Smile twisting mischievously, he traced my cock with a single featherlight finger. “Do it right.” I stilled my motions until he started stroking me the way I wanted, long, slow pulls that countered the pressure and fullness in my ass. “Bossy.” He said it like an endearment as I started riding him again, faster now, keeping his cockhead pressing on my prostate, the stretch having gone from too much to exactly perfect. “You love it.” “Fuck. I do.” His gaze locked with mine, my cheeky tease transforming to something tender, almost fragile. My breath caught at the sheer amount of wonder in his tone. “I really do.” “Good.” I had to close my eyes, only so much emotion I could take, especially coupled with pleasure this intense. His grip tightened on my cock as I rocked more urgently against him. The firmness of his body under mine and the solidness of every last inch of him...

I was supposed to be the one making the demands, but I was way too far gone to point that out. I sped up, him moving with me now, pushing up against me, deeper, harder. “Going to…” “Do it. Please.” His broken “please” did it, that hint of begging and desperation, the way he was coming apart under me, and that even more than his hand on my cock, tipped me over. The orgasm rocketed through me as I painted his abs and chest with my come. Seeing him so messy and marked was enough to tease one last spurt out. “Yes. You too. Now.” My voice was more needy than bossy, climax leaving me breathless and desperate for him to go too. And he must have been waiting for that signal because his body bucked, fucking hard into me. I’d thought I was done, but watching him come apart was enough to ...

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” I collapsed onto his chest in a messy heap. “You can be in charge whenever you’d like. Damn.” He grinned boyishly at me before rolling slightly to fetch a small towel from the nightstand. “You really mean that?” I asked as he cleaned us both up. Old worries about being too much, scaring people away, fluttered around like moths in my otherwise well-pleasured brain. “Hey, when I let you lead, good things happen.” He kissed my forehead, and the anxious moths fled. “You bossy is a win for me.” “Me too.” I sighed happily and settled more comfortably against his shoulder, the spot that was rapidly feeling like mine and mine alone. “And that totally earned us some cake.” “We’ll get crumbs in the new bed,” he warned. “Grouch.” I kissed his bristly neck. “I’ll do the shee...

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...

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.” “Oh, you’d be surprised what I miss,” I said dryly. Apparently, I’d missed him deciding he wanted to keep me around. And true, he hadn’t ever said he wanted to end things after Christmas. I’d just assumed because he hadn’t said otherwise either. But looking back, I could see any number of clues that perhaps he hadn’t had one foot out the door after all. “Maybe if I spoke up more, you wouldn’t need to play detective.” Doing an excellent mind-reading job yet again, Paul gave a sheepish smile. “So you’re saying you’ll need my help for all the occasions between ...

I made an undignified noise. “Or two?” “That’s not me putting out an end date.” He made a dismissive gesture before scratching between the cat’s ears. “Just doubting you can last forty-eight hours, let alone twelve or more months without decorating, shopping, organizing, or scheming.” “I am good at schemes.” My tone was all pleased before a new thought paraded through my addled brain. “Maybe too good.” “What?” He wrinkled up his face as if I were the one being confusing when he was the one who’d tossed me on a roller coaster without a seat belt with all these revelations. “I really did want to save your Christmas.” My mouth twisted as I tried to find the right words. Paul wasn’t the only one who had a hard time speaking up. “But I also kinda wanted in your pants. I think I might have tricked you into keeping me around.” Paul blinked, then blinked again. “Well. Can you keep on tricking me?” “Pardon?” “First, I’m not sure you noticed, but outside of letting you boss me around, I’m a tough guy.” He offered another crooke...

“Well, ideally, I’ll get better at doing the inviting.” He reached for my hand. The tremble in his fingers made my chest clench. Paul nervous and tentative was new. And that it was because of me, well that was enough to make my own hand shake against his. “But yes. Keep showing up. I want you to.” “Is that what this morning is about?” I asked. His presence was finally starting to make some sense. “You showing up? Inviting yourself shopping?” “It seemed important to you. I can show up for you too. Maybe I’m not as good at knowing when and how to help as you, but I want to try.” “You do help. You knew I didn’t want to be alone on Christmas. And maybe you felt sorry for me—” “It’s not pity.” He squeezed my hand. “Trust me, I hate pity more than anyone. I wanted you there. For me. Because you being there makes everything better. I told you. I need you.” Oh. He had said that, hadn’t he? Lori was right, I truly was dense. Or maybe, more to the point, I was so bogged down by old fears that I hadn’t let myself hope for what I wanted most. “I need you too,” I admitted softly. The words, they hurt, jagged little things, but once they were out, I could exhale....

My laugh sounded a lot like Elaine’s had the day before, closer to a hysterical giggle than a normal chuckle. But it was either laugh or give in to the rising urge to weep. “You don’t have to suddenly embrace shopping and seasonal decor.” “I would. For you.” He held my gaze, eyes as serious as I’d seen them. And not grumpy serious either. Solemn. Like he wasn’t kidding about wanting me around. Another giddy laugh escaped my chest even as he continued, “Making you happy, that’s important. So if bargain hunting makes you happy, let’s go.” “Hmm.” I made a noncommittal noise. Laughter wasn’t the only escape valve for dealing with emotional overload. I glanced in the direction of my stairs before peering again at the frozen world outside. “Gideon,” Paul groaned. “Stop looking like you’re trying to decide between hauling me back to bed upstairs with you and the shopping trip.” Busted. My laugh this time was free and easy. “Can I have both?” “You can.” Giving me a lusty grin,...

His bedding matched some of his ties and his Christmas pajamas and had smart piping along the edges. “I love it.”

His bedding matched some of his ties and his Christmas pajamas (omit “and”) had smart piping along the edges. “I love it.”

“Think there are still bargains to be had?” Naked, Paul stretched in my bed, a gorgeous display that almost tempted me right back to bed before he added, “Guess I better see to poor Jim before we go.” “Poor Jim.” I made a sympathetic noise as I toweled off. We’d dozed together for a while, then I’d snuck out of bed while he snoozed to take a fast shower. “And yes, we’ll find some deals. I don’t mind picked-over shelves either. I’ll take the nap with you any day.” “Me too.” Sitting up, he offered me a soft smile. “That was really nice. Thank you.” I started to bristle at the gratitude for something that had been a mutual pleasure, but then I reconsidered, chewing the inside of my cheek as I reasoned this out. “When you say thank you, do you mean it like job well done or more like that was awesome?” Paul frowned as if I were as dense as Lori thought. “Is that what you assumed all Christmas? That your job was finished and I didn’t need you anymore? Like thank you as shorthand for goodbye?” “Maybe,” I hedged as I pulled on clothes. “No, I’m not through with you.” Leaving the bed, he hugged me from behind, hindering my ability to get dressed, but that was okay. The warm feeling in my chest was worth it, particularly when he put his lips near my ear. “Not by a long shot.” “Oh.”

“I say thank you a lot to everyone.” His tone shifted to something more solemn. “Not just you. You only get so many chances in life to say it.” Oh. Of course, Paul more than anyone else would know the value of not waiting to tell people how much you appreciated them. And this was his way of saying I mattered to him. I understood now, and I sank into his embrace, head falling against his shoulder. “Feels like I should be the one thanking you,” I admitted as he squeezed me closer, his husky laugh in my ear saying he thought I meant orgasms. “And not just for the sex. But everything else. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” He kissed my ear before releasing me. “That reminds me. I have something for you.” Scooping his jeans off the chaise, he dug around in the pocket before coming up with two cuff links. “For your collection.” He gestured at the clear case on top of my dresser where I kept my grandfather’s cuff links along with some others I’d found over the years. But somehow, I knew these were more than a flea market find, and I accepted them with a hushed reverence. They were a simple set but heavy, chunky silver steel with a crosshatch pattern. “Where are they from?” I asked as I gazed down at my palm.

“My attic.” He too was staring at the pair. “I found them when I was looking for the earrings for Elaine. I don’t know exactly who they belonged to as I only saw Dad in a shirt with buttons a handful of times, but Mom kept them with her jewelry.” “I can’t accept these.” An almost physically painful level of regret laced my words. “Brandon will want them for the wedding.” Paul shook his head. “I asked. He doesn’t. Too fiddly for him. I told him I wanted you to have them. I trust you to keep them safe for me.” I sucked in a breath. Once, a million years ago, I’d proposed to Lori because that was what all our friends were doing. Get a ring. Have a nice dinner. Pop the question. But in this moment, these humble pieces of steel felt far more signif...

Forever. I didn’t add the word, but I felt it deep in my bones. I wasn’t letting the gift that was Paul’s heart go. I carefully put the set in my box right next to the ones my grandfather had worn on his wedding day. “I wish I had something as significant to give you.” My mouth twisted. “The dishes you found, those were pretty special,” Paul said as he finished dressing. “But you gave me something even more important.” “Oh?” “You gave me back the season. I didn’t even realize how low I’d sunk until you pulled me back out of the pit. Not dreading the holiday, that’s something.” “Pun intended?” I laughed. “Pun definitely intended.” He captured me in a fast, joyful kiss, and I...

“Pick your date. I’ll have the human Jim to mind things. I’m not going to miss your big day.” “So we’re thinking last weekend in July.” Elaine leaned forward, all excitement and glowing eyes. “That should beat whatever school schedules we’re dealing with and Gideon’s start of the term rush too.” “Me?” Gideon made a startled noise. “You are coming, right?” Brandon frowned around the last of his cracker. “I doubt Paul gets on a plane without you.” “Oh, and say you’ll come to graduation if you don’t have a work thing yourself that weekend,” Elaine added, reaching across to pat Gideon’s hand. “You might have to rescue us all from Brandon’s cooking.” “Hey now! I’m taking lessons.” “Yes, and we all have lots of faith in you.” Elaine gave him a kiss on the cheek. “But I still want Gideon to come.” Next to me, Gideon stayed tense. “Uh…” Did he not want to come? We hadn’t exactly discussed it, but…oh. We hadn’t talked. That was it. “Maybe I didn’t ask yet? Gideon, will you come to the wedding with me? And graduation too if you can swing it.”

He nodded slowly. “I suppose I can help you with the tux.” “I don’t want you to come for help.” I needed Gideon to get it through his head that I wanted him, not his impressive organizational skills. “I want you to come because Brandon’s right, I don’t want to go without you. You belong there. With me.” “Aww.” Elaine’s expression went all soft before she prodded the still-silent Gideon. “If you don’t say yes…” Gideon startled like he was just waking up. “Yes.” He blinked, then smiled. “Yes, I’ll come.” “Good.” Brandon took a sip of his wine, a warm and fruity number Gideon had pulled from the back of his pantry. “Grumpy Paul was going to be no fun.” “I don’t know.” Putting an arm around me, Gideon gave a knowing look. “I kind of like him grumpy.” “You say that now.” The tips of my ears were hot. I liked this version of Gideon a lot, more affectionate and playful since our big talk. “And you say you like me how I am,” he countered with a kiss on my temple. “I don’t want you changing either.”

He was wrong there. I had changed. And I liked it, liked me more now, liked the easiness in my step and the hopefulness in my heart. “I’m sure I can still manage enough crankiness to keep you happy.” “You guys are one more long look away from me telling you to get a room,” Brandon complained with a fake indignant expression. I shrugged. “It’s my house.” “So it is.” Brandon mimicked my shrug and tone both. “You do a good impression of Paul.” Gideon laughed and shook his head. “I should.” Brandon chuckled as well, then turned surprisingly serious. “I had enough practice. I’m always saying everything important, I learned from my big brother.” “Hey, who’s getting sappy now?” I had to glance away at Jim in her dog bed before he could see how much the compliment moved me. “But it’s true.” Brandon’s chair squeaked as he scooted closer to the table. “You taught me everything I needed to know.” Warmth started at my toes, snaked up my back and neck, and made my scalp itch. “I ...

“But it wasn’t easy.” He held my gaze when I would have looked away again. And the denial was right there on the tip of my tongue, but I remembered my kitchen chat with Elaine and all my talks with Gideon. “No. It wasn’t.” Maybe shielding him from that fact hadn’t been as much of a kindness as I’d always thought. Maybe he deserved to know some of the truth. “And it wasn’t easy when I moved away, was it?” He frowned like he was puzzling something out for the first time. “It was f—” I started to lie, then Gideon tapped me with his foot under the table. Oh. Right. I was trying to be truthful here. “It wasn’t…pleasant. I miss you. But you’ve got a life to be proud of now. And I’m proud of you. And jealous of the sunshine.” I added the last bit to make him laugh, but he stayed strangely somber. “Maybe I like snow…” He glanced over at Elaine, who nodded sharply. “Oh, go ahead and tell him.” “We were waiting until we had definitive news, but Elaine’s a finalist for a professorship at Stanton Anthony.” Brandon beamed, pride lacin...

“But yours…” “Travels the globe.” She rolled her shoulders before refilling her wineglass. “A flight to Philly isn’t going to stop my folks. And Brandon misses you too.” “Yup. And eventually, we want to make you an uncle.” Brandon’s grin reached new levels of wide. “Can’t have you miles and miles away.” “No rush on that.” My voice came out too gruff. Brandon? A dad? Damn. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready for that. But them starting a family here, where I could see…that seemed like almost too much to hope for. “But you’ll need a job too.” “I’m working on it. I’ve got a bunch of applications in. Everywhere in commuting distance from here. Something will turn up for me too.” “He’s being modest.” Elaine bumped his shoulder. “He’s already being wooed by some private-sector jobs nearby, and I’m expecting him to get more than a couple of finalist nods for local professorships after the first of the year.” My jaw dropped open. This might really be happening. “Wow.” “Good wow?” Brandon’s eyes narrowed. And this was where I should be unselfish, tell them to stay on the coast where they were likely to be happier, bu...

“Paul.” Brandon gave me a stern look. “You gave up two decades of your life for me. I can shovel a little snow.” My eyes burned, and all I could do was nod. Under the table, Gideon grabbed my hand, laced our fingers together. “And when it gets to be too cold, Elaine and I will escape to an island.” Brandon laughed like he knew I was struggling to keep my composure. “Maybe drag you along.” “I’d pay to see Paul in swim trunks.” Gideon offered me a gentle smile. “See?” Elaine’s grin hadn’t wavered. “It’ll all work out.” “Yeah.” I exhaled hard and clung to Gideon’s hand like it was the one thing keeping me from drowning. I managed a rough nod for Brandon and Elaine. “Thank you.” “No, thank you.” Brandon continued to hold my gaze, his brown eyes way more solemn than usual. I’d told Gideon that I said thank you because I didn’t want to miss my chance. Maybe Brandon was doing the same thing. I’d do it all over again, fight to keep him, make all the same sacrifices, and more, and I’d do it without any thanks. But still, him saying it mattered. Under the table, Gideon squeezed my hand. Funny how “thank you” came so easily to me while other words were so big and sc...

“Gideon, don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” He was all pretend innocence. “I know perfectly well how many empty bedrooms we have.” “Butterscotch can share,” he wheedled. “He ignores his cat tree these days anyway.” Gideon’s cranky cat had surprised all of us by taking to Jim like he’d been waiting his whole feline life for a best friend. Now he spent most of his days napping with her on her various dog beds, saving up energy to terrorize us at night with a new level of playfulness. He was like a new cat, which was only fitting since I spent a lot of time feeling like a new human myself. “How about we get married before you start handing out bedrooms?” “Oh, all right.” He sighed then turned his face toward mine. He frowned, nose wrinkling, and tilted his head. “Wait. You’re serious.” Angling my body in the direction of our window, I pressed the remote in my pocket. “Deck the Halls” abruptly switched to a song we’d danced to at Brandon’s wedding, one he’d declared his favorite sappy thing ever, even as I’d teased him. But I’d also filed that bit of information away.

“I might have tinkered with your playlist. And your schematic.” I hit the other remote in my pocket, this one for the lights I’d strung earlier on the porch roof directly below us. A golden heart glowed as my heart started to thump. “You planned this?” Gideon’s voice was full of wonder. “I did,” I said gruffly. Our rooftop position made kneeling a bit dicey, so I settled for grabbing his hand. “Gideon, will you marry me?” “Oh.” A glow slowly spread across his face as his lips parted. “But I was going to ask you.” “So you were.” Somehow, I managed to keep my voice from wavering even as I wanted to pump my fist. “My method involved ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’” He pretended to pout, but he remained lit up brighter than the lights beneath us. “I had to preempt the flash mob.” “A few neighbors does not a flash mob make.” He waved his free hand. I held tighter to his other one, both to keep him from flying off the roof and to cover the tremor that raced through me. “Gideon…” “I’ll have to cancel the reservation for the geese.”

“Gideon.” My voice came out thin and crackly. “You still haven’t answered me.” “You mean my yes wasn’t clear?” He blinked like I was missing something obvious. “Maybe I need to hear it,” I admitted. Gideon wasn’t the only one with fears. Sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, him snuggled against me, and I couldn’t believe how lucky I’d gotten. I kept expecting him to realize he could do far better, but apparently, he’d chosen me, and now I wanted to hold him to it. I wasn’t letting him go. “Yes.” He released a giddy giggle that made him sound far younger. “A thousand times yes. We can even elop...

“You deserve a wedding.” After seeing him help with Brandon and Elaine’s big day, I’d been convinced he needed an occasion of his own. “After all, we’re almost done putting the house to rights. You need another big project to fuss over.” “Maybe a small one?” He smiled slyly and his eyes flashed like his brain was already firing off ideas. “The renovated community center could clean up nicely.” “It could.” Thanks to Gideon’s tireless fundraising, the community center had more than met its goal, and Gideon kept crowing about how the new programming had the neighborhood more connected than ever before. I knew better though. It was all Gideon who had worked his magic over the neighborhood. And me. Most especially me. “Would Valentine’s be too cliché?” “It would be perfect. Whatever holiday you want.” “You. Luckily, I love you, bad puns and all.” Still beaming, he kissed my cheek. “Thank you.” “No, thank you. I mean it, Gideon. You saved me.” I honestly wasn’t sure I could ever fully tell Gideon how much he meant to me. I tried. But there simply weren’t words for what it felt like having my heart returned to my chest, rediscovering that I hadn’t lost my capacity for joy after all. “Y...