Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)(19)

“Sorry, no. By the way, she also asked me to join your family for Thanksgiving.”

He stared at her intently. “Please tell me you said yes.”

“I said yes.”

“You’ll come early?”

“You’re that worried about spending a day with the family?”

“Holidays are brutal.”

She smiled. “Fine. I’ll come early. Go eat your lunch. Then you need to stock shelves.”

He picked up one of the bags. “We’re having a run on gourd nativities?”

“You’d be surprised.”

He started to leave, then turned back to her. His bandaged hand came up and lightly grazed her cheek. She felt the heat of his touch all the way down to her toes. The contact was as unexpected as her visceral reaction.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

She thought about mentioning he could thank her in other ways. Like kissing. Or walking around shirtless. But he just headed for the back room, apparently unaffected by their brief contact.

Just what every woman needed for the holidays, she thought dreamily. A man crush.

* * *

Thanksgiving morning Gabriel sat on his brother’s front steps, sipping coffee and ignoring the cold. His mother had insisted he show up for breakfast. The request had been unexpected and he hadn’t had time to figure out a lie. So he’d been stuck arriving at eight.

It hadn’t snowed for a couple of days, so the roads were clear. A good thing considering Noelle was driving up by herself. As he watched the driveway, waiting to see her arrive, he realized they hadn’t discussed a time. Early could mean a lot of things, especially considering dinner wasn’t until five that afternoon.

He continued to hold on to his mug of rapidly cooling coffee, pleased he could almost stand the pressure of the cup against his wound. He was healing. The searing pain was just a dull ache. The stitches pulled when he moved. Good signs. His work at the store hadn’t set him back at all. Not that he cared if it did—he liked what he did at The Christmas Attic.

He’d taken the job on an impulse. Keeping busy meant less time to think—something he appreciated. In his regular job there was too much thinking. Too much worrying. Once a crisis hit, there was only reacting, then later, second-guessing. Folding throws and making sure the teddy bears were in a straight line would get old in time, but for these few weeks, the job was exactly what he needed. A place to retreat.

When he had his flashbacks—the sound of an explosion somewhere out of sight—he was able to stay calm. He kept breathing and the urgent sense of having to go help, to save, bled away with the sound. He was left back in this time and went on with his day.

Now he turned toward the driveway, but no car appeared. Damn.

He wanted to see her, he realized. Not just for the way she would be a buffer between himself and his parents, but because she would make him laugh. She would poke fun at him and breeze in and out with a graceful sway of her narrow hips. She would be endlessly patient, as she often was at the store. She didn’t care that some old lady took nearly an hour to pick out two ornaments with a combined value of less than ten dollars. She wanted every customer to be happy, whatever it took.

Integrity, he thought, finishing his coffee. She had integrity. And long legs, he mused, thinking how good they would feel wrapped around him as he—

Gabriel slammed the door on that line of thinking. No, he told himself firmly. That wasn’t going to happen. For one thing, Noelle was sweet and soft and not the kind of woman who thought sex was a game. For another, there were no secrets in Fool’s Gold. He’d figured that out the first day. If he slept with her, everyone would know. Then he would be gone and she would be left with the consequences. He liked her so he didn’t want to hurt her.

He heard footsteps on the porch behind him. He was hoping the person joining him was his brother. Or even Felicia. He could handle the company of either. He doubted Carter was up yet, otherwise he would take the kid.

But no, he thought as his father settled next to him. His luck wasn’t that good.

“Here,” his dad said, handing over a travel mug. “If you’re going to be fool enough to sit out here, you need to keep warm. Your other coffee will be cold by now.”

“Thanks.”

“You waiting on a woman?”

He was, but didn’t want to have the conversation. It would mean explaining why and that would take both of them places they didn’t want to go. His father had spent his life in the military but had seen little actual combat. It was a timing thing. While Gabriel hadn’t been under live fire, except when the field hospitals were attacked, he’d been plenty close to what went on. Gideon had lived it, of course.

Regardless, their father would feel he was one of them and want to talk about it. Gabriel had never been able to figure out what to say.

“Just enjoying the morning,” he told his father.

Norm nodded. “Beautiful country.”

“So it seems.”

“I heard you had a job in town.”

Gabriel opened the travel mug and drank the hot coffee. Warmth filled his stomach. “Just for the holidays.”

“Retail?”

From the tone it was obvious his father thought retail was as distasteful as having to clean up the local dog park.