Here Comes Santa Paws (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

3. Roman

Chapter 3

Roman

I gritted my teeth as I approached my place. Sensibly, my half of the duplex was only lit by the porchlight, but the other half could be a Clark Griswold original. Bright, garish lights lined the roof, windows, and front door. The ridiculous inflatable swayed slightly in the evening wind. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving, for crying out loud. Our building looked absurd, and it wasn’t my half making it look that way.

As I clocked lights wrapped around a tree trunk that I couldn’t recall from last year, I suspected he was adding more to either drive me to move or make up for my absence of decorations. I was approaching my third Christmas in town, and he’d added more each time the holidays came back around. The knot in my shoulders eased when the garage door closed behind me and blocked the light pollution.

At least he hadn’t offered to decorate my side of the house again. It hadn’t gone well the first time he’d asked. My annoyance grew each time I caught myself staring at his pert ass whenever he was on his ladder hanging lights or bending over to pull weeds.

It was tempting to keep driving until I reached a place without any lights—Christmas or otherwise. I was itching to go for a hike and take photos of landscapes without inflatables and smell real pine trees instead of cinnamon-scented pinecones.

I pressed the door opener button clipped to my visor and pulled my truck into the garage separating my place from the other half. The garage was what had sold me on the place initially. Not having to share a wall made it feel like I had my own house without the price of it.

When I entered my kitchen through the door connected to the garage, I realized I hadn’t checked the mail in a few days. Despite the garish decorations, I might as well get that over with before kicking off my shoes.

The crisp evening air was a harsh reminder of how thin my scrubs were. My neighbor’s dogs were barking up a storm. As usual. At least they were kind of cute.

I retrieved a few envelopes and junk newsletters from my mailbox, and when I turned to head inside, I saw my neighbor walking from his carport toward the mailbox. I didn’t know how to teleport, so I braced myself for an annoying interaction.

“Hi,” Elias said. His light-brown hair poked from under his red beanie, and I noticed his tan had faded since the summer. His dark-brown beard and mustache had grown thicker since I’d seen him last but were still short and tidy. I ground my teeth at how good he looked.

I might be having a dry spell, but I’m not desperate enough to make a move on my jolly neighbor. Sure, under all that enthusiasm, Elias was attractive. His thick lips would look good around my dick, but fooling around with the person on the other side of my garage was a recipe for trouble. He seemed like the type to get attached.

I nodded once as I passed him and strode toward my front door.

“Roman? I got one of yours.”

Gritting my teeth, I turned and met him halfway to accept the envelope. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” His smile was wide, friendly, and annoying.

Nothing about me invited friendliness, but he always offered it anyway. What the hell had him so cheerful all the time? It wasn’t natural.

“It’s looking festive around the neighborhood.”

I grunted and turned around. Hard pass on the small talk.

“Are you planning to put anything up?”

Here we go .

“Nope,” I called over my shoulder.

“I’ve got extra lights if you need them,” he called.

I slammed my door on his offer. He’d get the hint eventually. I didn’t need his decorations or whatever neighborly friendship he wanted to cram down my throat. I wouldn’t be here much longer anyway.

ELIAS

I smiled at the beautiful decorations greeting me as I walked to my front door. It looked amazing, if I did say so myself. I’d finally figured out how to hang lights in neat lines around the windows and the gingerbread house inflatable was the cherry on top.

Krampus glared at me from her perch in my living room window. When I waved at my short-haired black cat, she turned her head away. If I hadn’t left a light on in the living room for the dogs, I wouldn’t have seen anything but her eyes. My adorable little void kitty. I heard Tinsel’s and Nutcracker’s eager barks before I reached the door.

It had been worth sacrificing some R&R over the weekend to make sure Gramps and I were all set on the décor front. The last thing I wanted was worrying about it on top of everything else once the festival began, and it always cheered me up after long days. Plus, I didn’t want to be the only person in the neighborhood without my decorations up. Well, other than my grouchy neighbor.

I smiled toward his half of the house as I unlocked my front door. Steam might flow from his ears if I wrapped the pole both our mailboxes were attached to with garland and lights. It would look so cute if we had bookend red bows on the outside of each mailbox. I shook my head. I didn’t understand why someone who hated Christmas would live in Christmas Falls?

Whenever I tried to talk to him, he glowered at me. I hadn’t made much—okay, any —progress with him since he’d moved in, but I refused to give up. If he needed a cup of sugar, I wanted him to know he could count on me. Note to self: add sugar to the shopping list for Thanksgiving.

It didn’t hurt that he was attractive and seemed roughly my age—in his early-to-mid-thirties. Something about his don’t-talk-to-me attitude, dark and grabbable beard, and bright-blue eyes drew me in. My neighbor might be the most antisocial guy on the planet, but he had the sexiest voice—low and grumbly.

It wasn’t fair how hot he made being a grump. I wouldn’t call my reaction to him a crush—that required having actual conversations—but I had to admit I appreciated how well he filled out his scrubs. How was I supposed to react whenever I overheard him talking to my dogs over the short fence between our halves of the backyard?

As soon as I made it inside, I dropped my lunch bag and crouched to greet my babies. Tinsel wobbled on her three legs as she tried to get her front paws on my knee. She was the cutest German Spitz in the world, with her white, nearly silver body fur, black markings on her back, and a black face. Nutcracker’s one eye blinked as she panted and tried to nudge Tinsel out of the way. Nutcracker was a Havanese-terrier mix with beige wiry fur like her terrier parent. Her face was all Havanese.

After giving them love and treats and letting them outside, I took a catnip toy to Krampus. She blinked her yellow eyes at me. The scars under her eyes and on the sides of her wide nose from whatever street fights had happened before she’d been brought into the shelter had all healed since I’d adopted her earlier this year. She wasn’t the most affectionate cat, but I didn’t need her purring on my lap to know she loved me.

I placed the catnip Christmas-present toy on a lower platform on the cat tree. Once I turned away, I heard Krampus climb out of her basket and a thunk as she dropped onto the platform.

The dogs sniffed out the secret in my lunch bag.

“Yes, I have more treats from Hank. He’s testing a new flavor, but you’ll have to wait until after dinner to try it.”

They followed me into the kitchen as I put my empty lunch containers in the dishwasher. I let them out back, then went through their dinner routine. Once they were fed, it was my turn. My stomach growled. I opened my fridge and faced the harsh reality that I’d skipped grocery shopping in favor of decorating. As I rummaged through my freezer, I made a mental note to go shopping tomorrow and cook Gramps dinner. I wanted to check on him and do a few chores around his place.

“Mini supreme pizza it is.” The state of my hunger demanded the microwave. No time for the crisp crust only achieved with the patience of oven heating.

After starting the microwave, I grabbed the new treats and gave them to my pups. They gobbled them up in seconds, as they always did. They were Hank’s biggest fans. I snapped a picture and sent it to him with a glowing review and a photo of their happy faces.

Once the pizza was ready, I carried it to the couch. I released a long sigh when I sank into the cushions. It felt like the first time I’d sat all day. Seconds later, Nutcracker and Tinsel raced up the ramp on one side of the couch and watched me eat. Krampus ignored us in favor of gripping the catnip toy in her front paws while trying to rapidly kick it with her hind legs.

I called Gramps once the worst of the hanger was abated by half the pizza in my belly. He answered on the first ring.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Gramps. How’d your first physical therapy appointment go?”

“Terrible.”

I leaned forward, which put the dogs on high alert. “What happened? What did they do to you?”

“Made me exercise. The bastard.”

I huffed. “You knew that was part of the recovery process. The most important part.”

“Yeah, yeah. But it hurts.”

“No shit. You literally had a hip replaced less than a week ago.”

“Don’t sass me. You wait until it’s your turn.”

I shook my head. “And when it is, I’ll do my PT exercises like I’m supposed to.”

The knot of tension I’d carried all day over how Gramps was doing eased. He always liked giving me shit, and the day he stopped, I would start worrying. Okay, fine, worrying about him more.

It scared the hell out of me when he told me he needed surgery. Routine procedure or not, it felt big.

“Seriously, how’d it go?” I munched on another slice of pizza.

“PT went fine. The therapist is a bit of a grouch, but I can crack him.”

“I’m sure he’ll need his own therapy by the time your sessions are done.”

He made a sniffing sound. “I was perfectly pleasant.”

“More like perfectly pleased to test every one of his last nerves.”

“I’m in pain, Elias. So much pain.” His exaggerated put-upon tone made me laugh.

I worried though. Despite how hard Gramps tried to hide it, I’d seen the pain etched all over his face when I’d driven him home after surgery and then spent most of the weekend with him. But he was a tough man. I knew that better than anyone. He’d been my personal superhero since he and my grandma had taken me in after my parents died in a car accident. And he’d managed to support me through my tween years when Grams passed away. Gramps had always been my rock and confidant, and it hurt to see evidence of his mortality.

“Well, just try not to be a pain in your physical therapist’s backside.”

Gramps hummed. “Speaking of that, I think he likes men.”

I squawked. “ Speaking of that ! Ew. No. Gross!” I shared a lot with my grandfather, but my sex life was not on the list.

“What? I’ve been around a lot longer than you.”

“Changing the subject now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re too busy to date. You know, you give me that excuse every year.”

“You eat dinner yet?”

He sighed in defeat. “I reheated a chunk of that casserole Nancy made me. Darn good stuff.”

If he wouldn’t stay with me, at least I knew he wasn’t in too much pain to feed himself. “Did you use that stool I got you?”

“I did. It’s the perfect height to park my keester on while waiting for food to heat up. Thanks, kiddo.”

“No problem. How about I come over tomorrow and cook?”

“Are you sure you have time? I know it’s busy this time of year.”

I tsked. “You think I’m willing to go more than forty-eight hours without putting eyes on you after a major surgery?”

“It’s not a major surgery. It’s a bionic upgrade.”

I laughed. “Get some rest, Bionic Man. See you tomorrow. Call if you need anything, okay? Day or night.”

“I will. Get some rest.”

I ended the call and ate the rest of my pizza while watching whatever Hallmark Christmas movie was on. That was my favorite way to unwind and always made me feel better—no matter my stress level.

Tinsel’s wet nose on my cheek woke me a while later. I must’ve dozed off on the couch. I grabbed my phone to glance at the time. Nearly midnight. Oops.

“All right, kids. Time for potty, then let’s go to bed.” All my light decorations were on a timer, so after I let them out, I herded the dogs to the bedroom and wished Krampus a good night’s sleep from her perch as neighborhood watch.

While brushing my teeth, I scrolled through my notifications. My gut sank when I saw several from the water detection alarms I’d bought last year for the animal shelter. The little devices were low to the ground and worked like a charm to let me know if there was water where there shouldn’t be. Like if someone forgot to turn off a hose after cleaning the kennels.

I frowned. I’d checked the hoses before I’d left earlier. What’s going on? I launched the camera app to tune into the live feeds and heard a cacophony of barks over the sound of rushing water.

I bolted toward the front door and grabbed my coat and keys. Good thing I hadn’t changed into my pajamas yet. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.