Here Comes Santa Paws (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

15. Roman

Chapter 15

Roman

“Do you want to come with me? I could use some backup in there. I’m sure Elias’s dogs aren’t that bad. They’re just eager. Like their owner.”

Carol’s ears twitched, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

The oven timer chimed, and I slid on mitts to remove the green bean casserole. While it cooled slightly, I turned the oven off and collected the drinks I’d picked up last night. Grocery stores were not the place to be the night before Thanksgiving. It reminded me of Black Friday at the electronics store I’d worked at in college. Instead of brawling over discount video game consoles and DVD players, it was elbowing over rolls and yams.

After turning the television from football to a nature show that Carol seemed to enjoy, I told her to have a good afternoon, gathered the food and drinks, and walked next door.

I shook my head at the Christmas decorations covering houses as far as I could see. There were few things in common between all the places I’d lived, but one similarity was that people didn’t put up outside Christmas decorations until after Thanksgiving. In Christmas Falls, that was considered late.

I stared at the bushy wreath with a sparkly red ribbon, sprigs of berries, and a few too many pinecones on Elias’s door. He probably got off on making his own wreaths. The thought made me chuckle.

I inhaled deeply to settle my nerves before knocking with my elbow. Elias opened the door quickly. He looked great in a long-sleeved, black shirt and jeans that accentuated his long legs.

“Hi. This smells good.” His soulful gaze snagged mine, and I lost myself to his welcoming smile.

“How’s my medical torturer doing?” Jim’s voice saved me from drowning in Elias’s eyes.

“I made a casserole. Figured I’d torture your tastebuds today.”

Jim let out a hearty laugh. He was stationed on the couch with the dogs at his feet. I was surprised they didn’t run over to accost me like they had yesterday. Then I noticed the treats Jim was doling out and the grateful smile Elias shot him. Thoughtful of them to keep the dogs occupied while I settled in.

I nodded at the cat glowering at me. She tucked her face under her black paw and nestled farther into the cat tree basket. A kindred spirit. I followed Elias into the kitchen and handed him the bag of drinks.

“Your place is quite clean.”

Elias’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Why do you sound surprised?”

“You have three pets.”

He tilted his head. “I also have a mop, vacuum, and a tub to bathe them in.” He leaned in. “They shit outside, you know,” he whispered before turning toward the oven. “Well, two of them do, anyway. I’ve still got at least half an hour on the turkey. I can put your casserole back in the oven to warm back up while I’m cutting the bird.”

I liked that he called me out on my bullshit. My favorite people did.

“What can I help with?”

Elias put me to work mashing potatoes. I’d made them a few times and added butter, milk, salt, and pepper, but Elias passed me cream cheese, shredded cheese, and garlic too.

I was mesmerized watching Elias glide around his compact kitchen, checking on the turkey, stirring the baked beans, wrapping rolls in foil, and pulling marshmallow yams from the microwave to jab with a fork. He was like a robot doing a dozen things at once while I continued to mash potatoes. I bet he operated with the same efficiency at the shelter.

Another reminder of how severely I’d underestimated him. A depressing thought flittered across my mind. How much time had I wasted that I could’ve known Elias? He could’ve been a friend in town over the past couple of years instead of me brushing him off as the annoyingly upbeat neighbor with too many animals.

I wouldn’t say I’d been lonely in Christmas Falls—I was comfortable on my own—but Elias was entertaining, vibrant, kind. I enjoyed his company as much as mine. I’d been looking forward to coming over all morning.

Jim kept the dogs busy while I attempted to help Elias finish preparing the food, which included chopping up white turkey meat for the animals.

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I’ll make a doggy bag for Carol.”

Soon, everything was set out—dishes covered every inch of the minimal surface area, including a card table Elias had set up at the edge of the kitchen—and we piled our plates high.

I couldn’t help but watch how Jim moved. He’d brushed off Elias’s offer to fill his plate for him with an, “I had hip surgery. My arms aren’t broken.” Watching Jim’s movement when he wasn’t expecting it showed me he was progressing well.

Jim was first back to the living room and moved to claim the chair. He winked at me when I took a spot on the couch. His matchmaking efforts were already obnoxious when it was only the two of us. I hadn’t prepared for how bad he might be with Elias and me in the same room.

He talked constantly about Elias’s positive qualities during our sessions—as though I didn’t know how good of a man Elias was. That wasn’t the issue. I was the issue.

Elias came into the living room and rolled his eyes at Jim’s new spot in the chair. “Real subtle, Gramps.”

I nearly choked on the piece of turkey I’d been chewing while trying not to laugh.

As we filled our bellies and watched the football game, Elias asked a few questions about gameplay.

“I haven’t watched much football, but this is less boring than I expected,” he said.

I laughed, and Elias watched me with wonder in his eyes. Once again, instead of feeling self-conscious about laughing or smiling, he made me want to do it more.

That was the thing about Elias. There was goodness in his heart and soul. He wanted everyone around him to be happy, sometimes at his own expense. Elias needed someone to watch out for his well-being while he focused on others.

I relaxed deeper into the couch, talking football with Jim and explaining things to Elias. I had a good time. They were easy to be around. If I didn’t feel like talking for a while, Elias filled the space, or we all silently watched the game. It was the best Thanksgiving I’d had in years. They didn’t corner me into awkward small talk or ask me a litany of probing questions. I simply got to enjoy amazing food in the company of two great men. Jim even laid off the matchmaking comments when he joined me to check on Carol.

Eventually, Jim declared he’d digested enough to have room for pie. Elias popped up to put food away and get dessert ready. I joined him.

When I reached the kitchen, he was bent in front of a cabinet, rummaging for storage containers. It took all my self-control not to press against his pert ass, squeeze his hip, and make promises with my body. We’d kissed once. That didn’t give me the right to paw at him—especially not with his grandfather on the other side of the wall.

He straightened and placed a teetering stack of containers on the counter. My body moved toward him without my conscious direction. He turned and let out an “Oh” as I caged him against the counter.

“The meal was delicious. Thank you.”

Elias licked his lips. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you came over.”

“Me too.” He smelled like cranberries. Did he taste like them too? I bent my head to find out.

As soon as our lips touched, Elias wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. I invaded his mouth and expressed all my gratitude for him including me without expecting anything. Elias let me be me.

Jim cheered. “Touchdown Bears!”

I pulled back. Elias dropped his forehead against mine and laughed. “Woohoo!” he called to Jim as he grinned at me. He dropped a quick kiss on my lips before turning back to begin putting food away.

I stood there, dazed by that simple kiss, as Elias calculated the best containers for each item. I was used to kisses as a means to getting off, but that was pure affection.

“You weren’t exaggerating your cooking abilities. I definitely need to take you up on that dinner you promised.”

He aimed a flirty grin at me. “Your casserole was delicious, by the way.”

“You can keep some if you want.”

Elias’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? I’d like that. I’m sure Gramps would too.”

My chest swelled uncomfortably.

He scooped some out into containers and put one in the fridge and the other on a growing stack. Then he moved my casserole dish next to a separate stack. I moved toward those.

“Do these go in the fridge?” I gestured to them.

“Those are for you.”

I stared at the thoughtful assembly of leftovers. A little of everything and an extra big bag of turkey.

“That’s for Carol,” he said when I picked up the turkey bag.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed my arm. “You’re welcome. Help me dish up the pie?”

I nodded, grateful for a task. I cut three narrow slices of chocolate pie with a whipped cream topping and three narrow slices of pumpkin pie. Elias directed me to put a dollop of whipped cream from a bowl onto the pumpkin slice for Jim.

I carried plates to the living room for me and Jim with Elias behind me.

My tastebuds were in heaven as I took a bite of the chocolate pie. The sweetness of the thick, creamy pudding was cut by the flaky crust and chocolate sprinkles had been added to the whipped cream on top.

“This is the best pie I’ve ever had.”

Elias smiled around a fork. “Thanks. It’s a recipe from an old Betty Crocker cookbook.”

“His mom used to make it.” Pride shone from Jim’s eyes as he smiled at Elias.

I squeezed Elias’s leg as we returned our attention to the television. I stayed another couple of hours, watching football and drinking beer. I was stuffed to the gills and couldn’t imagine eating for another week. All in all, I stayed several hours longer than I had intended and had the best damn Thanksgiving. Maybe ever.

I could get used to spending more time with Elias and Jim before I left.