The Anti-Social Season (First Responders #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Twenty-Four

S imon still had a headache from his workday when he pulled up in front of Thea’s house that evening. She met him at the door, eyes bright with excitement and with a kind of manic energy fizzing off her that made him even more tired.

God, could they maybe just watch a movie and go to bed? To sleep? He wasn’t sure he had it in him right now to even make out with her on the couch.

“Come on in,” she said, tugging him inside. “I have a surprise for you.”

He was about to try to let her down gently from whatever plan she had when he noticed the small evergreen in front of the window. And those were definitely Christmas carols streaming softly from her little wireless speaker in the kitchen area.

“It’s time to do your favorite stuff,” she said. “I got the tree—his name is Noel, by the way—a couple of days ago, but I wanted to decorate him with you. Then we can make homemade pasta, which is something my family always does in the run-up to Christmas. And anything else you want to do, of course.”

Okay, that was...wonderful. Thoughtful. But he was still wrung out while she fizzed with energy. “I love it. Thank you.” He winced a little before he went on. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, especially when she was obviously doing all she could to make this so special. “But can we just do the tree and see how it goes?” he asked. “I don’t want to be a buzzkill, but I’ve had a kind of shitty day and I’m wiped.”

“Sure,” she said, her brows coming together in evident concern. “Why was your day so shitty?”

“I have a colleague who’s a pain in the ass. You met her that first day, I think,” he said, setting his overnight bag down on the floor. “She hates the fact that I run social media, the way I do it, basically everything about me. She tried to get me in trouble with our manager over the interchange you and I had today.”

Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Holy shit, Simon, that’s awful. I’m so sorry. That was all my fault.” Crimson stained her cheeks, and he reached out and pulled her to him.

“No. It’s not your fault at all. We weren’t being out of line at all and my boss didn’t think we did anything wrong. And sadly, it’s just the most recent in a long line of shitty things this woman has done. I think it was more about the fact that my boss had just praised my work in front of everyone that pissed her off the most and she was lashing out.”

“I wish she wasn’t able to use something I did to hurt you though,” Thea said.

He squeezed her to him, feeling better with his arms around her. “Nothing hurt me. You didn’t hurt me. Mary-Pat embarrassed me and made me mad, but didn’t hurt me. You’d never hurt me.”

“Again,” she said.

“What?”

“I’d never hurt you again. I did it in high school.”

He rubbed her back, feeling some energy return just from holding her. “Forget about that. It’s in the past. We were kids and we did what kids do, which is be insufferable little shits. Now,” he said, more energy returning to his body as he contemplated Noel the Christmas tree, “let’s get some lights on your baby.”

Thea regretted the way her impulsive energy had just kind of splattered all over Simon before she’d even checked in to see how he was. He was carefully stringing the colored lights on Noel, his posture a little more relaxed than what it had been when he had first come in. So that was good.

But she could see how all her plans were overwhelming. They didn’t need to make pasta tonight. She grabbed the prosecco from the fridge and poured two juice glasses for them, bringing one over. “Sorry I don’t have any champagne flutes, but the wine should taste fine regardless,” she said, handing him his and tapping it lightly with her own. “Here’s to new traditions.”

“Here, here,” Simon said, his weary eyes crinkling at the corners. “And here’s to lovely little Christmas trees. Noel’s a beaut.”

“Hey...” Thea said, an idea forming in her mind. “I know you don’t usually go on camera yourself, but maybe would you mind helping me by doing a safety video with Noel as your costar? You can say no, it’s okay,” she added.

He considered her carefully. “What kind of thing did you have in mind?”

Well, that wasn’t the outright no she’d been expecting.

“Um, as usual I’m shooting from the hip a little bit. But extension cords and Christmas lights have been the bane of firefighters’ existence for a very long time now, so just a simple ‘Do this, don’t do this’ kind of thing would be a good start.”

He rubbed his chin. “Yeah. Okay. I’d prefer it if you didn’t put my face on camera though. Mary-Pat would probably have a field day accusing me of... I don’t even know what. But she’d think of something.”

“Fair enough,” she said. She hadn’t gotten a dedicated camera for work yet, so she grabbed her phone and walked him through what she wanted him to demonstrate. She focused on only his hands, trying not to think about how those hands had given her pleasure and how much she enjoyed watching him as he manipulated plugs and showed the new wires that weren’t frayed or damaged.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said when they were done.

His startled gaze flew to her face. “When?”

“When you’re in California.”

He huffed a brief laugh and stood from where he’d been crouching next to the tree, stretching out his back. “I’m only going to be gone for a few days. I’ll be back before either of us knows it. The only way you’ll be able to tell I’ve been gone is my sleep schedule will be entirely fucked up.” He drew her to him and kissed her temple. “But thank you. That’s really nice.”

Thea was giving him such a woeful look, Simon had to smile. “Seriously. You won’t have time to miss me.”

She shook her head, looking down at her hands, which were twisting together. “It’s not just missing you though. It’s knowing you’re going to be going to so much effort and not getting any credit for it. You deserve better.”

He cupped her cheek. “That’s sweet of you. And maybe next year I’ll be able to do something different.”

In the back of his mind, hazy almost-plans were turning over. About spending the holidays with Thea instead of his family. Of having cozy little scenes like this. Just the two of them, decorating, baking, cooking, wrapping presents. He’d barely ever done those things with anyone else before—mostly he hadn’t even wanted to. But he wanted more of that feeling he’d been thinking about earlier: the way they complemented each other. She’d already taught him about pizzelle , and she could teach him about pasta. He could show her the family sugar cookie recipe. They could make new traditions of their own. That last bit sounded really appealing.

Ashley would have kittens.

Well, maybe it was about time Noah got a pet.

“Lights are done,” he said. “You said something about making pasta?”

She shook her head. “You’re too wiped. I’ll just make some soup and grilled cheese and call it dinner, okay?”

His knees nearly buckled with relief. “That sounds fantastic. I can start putting ornaments on if you like.”

“Only if you want to. You’re going to have a grueling few days ahead of you, and you should be able to relax before then.”

When was the last time someone had taken care of him like this? He honestly couldn’t recall. But paradoxically, her permission for him to stop decorating made him want to go on. When she turned to go into the kitchen and get dinner started, he opened up the boxes of ornaments. Some had never been touched, their commercial seals still intact. But one held mostly handmade decorations, lovingly packed into a sectioned-off box to keep them from knocking into each other. A set of glass icicles were wrapped in tissue. He set about putting them on the tree, his unfamiliarity with the collection making him slow and deliberate. It was nice and almost meditative with the soft Christmas music and Thea moving around the kitchen putting their simple dinner together.

Even though he had only just tried to convince Thea that she wouldn’t have time to miss him during his short trip, he knew he was going to miss her.

“Come and eat,” she called. She’d set up their dinner at her little dining table, a candle flickering between their places. Something turned over in his chest as he slid into his seat. The soup and grilled cheese smelled delicious and comforting, and he nearly groaned as he dipped a corner of the neatly cut sandwich into the soup.

“Mmm.” Crunchy, savory and warm in beautiful contrast to the cold night outside. The only thing that could have improved the scene was if the little house had a fireplace.

Thea’s phone chimed and she picked it up, one eyebrow lifting. “Hmm. Apparently there’s a not-insignificant chance of a snowstorm overnight.”

Simon scoffed. “Snow before Christmas? Never happens in Maryland.”

“Well,” she said, laying her phone down and picking up her spoon, “we can hope.”