The Christmas Summons by Kelly Fox

Author:Kelly Fox [Fox, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

9

TOLLY

We say goodbye to Heli and his brothers, then go back upstairs to get changed. I go out to warm up the engine of the Range Rover while Gael finishes putting on his boots and coat.

When Gael finally joins me, the engine is ready, the heater is blowing warm air, and the earth’s ice caps have melted.

“What’s so funny?” he asks as though he isn’t waddling over to the Rover like a stuffed penguin.

“Have you seen the classic American movie A Christmas Story?”

“Maybe?”

“There’s a kid they wrap up in so much clothing he can’t move. You look like that kid,” I say, pulling out my phone to show him the Google image of the character.

Gael narrows his eyes at me, and it’s hard to take him seriously when his thick eyelashes curl in the sharp winter weather. I should point out his eyes are the only thing I can see because Dimitra has wrapped an enormous sheet-sized scarf around his neck and shoulders, topped with a slouching beanie pulled down around his ears.

I stifle a snort as he walks toward the driver side of the Rover and opens the door, at first confused, then cursing under his breath.

“Fucking British on the fucking wrong side of the road.”

The laughter breaks free from my chest as I grab his hand and lead him around to the passenger side. He’s too mummified in his winter wear, so I boost him up into the seat, loving the opportunity to cup his cute ass.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because you look like a very colourful, very delicious mummy.”

“Dimitra said to dress in layers!”

“Yes. Like, two layers. You’re currently wearing at least six.”

“I am not! It’s only four.”

He tries to send me the middle finger as I make my way around the front of the vehicle to the driver side, but he’s wearing mittens, which decidedly mutes the effect.

“Shut up.” He scowls, ripping off his mittens and unwinding the scarf. “Fuck, I’m sweating.”

“Oh my God, I love you so much,” I say, reaching across the console to kiss his sweaty temple.

Suddenly, Gael’s grumpy attitude vanishes and he goes quiet. He turns to me, his eyes gone all gimlety.

“I know,” he murmurs.

“You know what?” I ask, rewinding our conversation.

Oh. Fuck.

Too soon, Tolly. Too soon.

I grimace. “Gael—”

He holds up his hand, or as much as he can, given his many layers. When an indelicate snort escapes my nose, he tries—unsuccessfully—to cross his arms in a pout. After some wrangling, he takes off the rather large puffer coat, which seems to solve most of his issues.

“Fine. Just show me your estate, and we’ll pretend you didn’t tell me that you loved me two seconds after you sat on my face.”

“It wasn’t your rimming skills, darling, which are unequaled.”

“Whatever. That’s the story I’m telling myself.”

“You know I’ve been mad for you for six months. This is not a surprise.”

He drops his chin to his chest, his smile so bright it might crack his jaw right off his face. “I know.”

“You have fancied me for exactly the same amount of time.

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