Page 40 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf
"It's the herpes of craft supplies," I add with a grin. "Once it's on you, it never really goes away."
He looks at me with an expression that's both exasperated and amused, a hint of that smile still lingering around his mouth. "That's a disturbing comparison."
"But accurate." I step closer, reaching up to brush a strand of glitter-covered hair from his cheek before I can stop myself. His skin is warm beneath my fingertips, and I feel him tense at the contact. "If you don't let me help you, you'll be sparkling for your next fifty patients."
Something flickers in his eyes, uncertainty perhaps, or something deeper.
"Apart from taking ten showers in a row, I admit I don’t know what to do."
"I have some tricks that might help," I say, letting my hand drop back to my side. "As the school nurse, I'm practically an expert in glitter removal. You wouldn't believe how many craft day disasters I've had to clean up."
He hesitates, a series of emotions crossing his face too quickly for me to interpret. Then he says something that catches me completely off guard.
"I wouldn’t want to cover your house with glitter. We could go to my place instead."
The invitation hangs between us, loaded with potential. My heart stutters in my chest, and for a moment, I can't find my voice.
"For glitter removal purposes," he adds hastily, glitter sparkling in his eyelashes as he blinks.
"Right," I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel. "Purely professional glitter removal."
Our eyes meet, and something electric passes between us. I remember Harriet's advice about not letting him run away this time, about getting answers. His cabin would certainly provide the privacy for that conversation.
"Okay," I agree, aiming for casual, though my insides are a riot of anticipation and nerves. "Lead the way."
He nods once, then walks to his car, leaving a trail of glitter behind him that sparkles in the moonlight. He unlocks the sleek black sedan and opens the passenger door for me, a gentlemanly gesture that feels both formal and intimate.
As I slide into the passenger seat, the clean scent of his car surrounds me—cedar, leather, and the subtle scent of his cologne. The interior is immaculate, of course, all sleek lines and pristine surfaces.
I watch him remove his coat and attempt to shake the glitter off in the street. He glances at me, then unbuttons his shirt to remove it and shakes it as well. My mouth dries at the sight of his long, lean, muscular body. He’s truly built like a statue, lean abs and clean lines ending in a V below his waist. Then he bends and shakes his long blond hair and a riot starts between my legs as arousal floods through me.
You’re in trouble now, Lorian Reizenhart, I think as he straightens and stares at me, ogling him like he’s a cake on a display stand. Truth be told, I don’t even feel bad for getting an eyeful.
I feel wicked. Wicked good.
After he’s done shedding his glitter coat like a golden retriever, he pulls his shirt back on, to my deepest regret, and slides in the driver’s seat. There’s still a good amount of glitter sticking to every part of his delicious elf body.
“Let’s get you home, Doctor Elf,” I tell him with a grin.
He chuckles and pulls out onto the street. And I resolve that this time, I won't let him run away.
Maybe now is the time to tackle him to the ground until he gives me some answers.
Chapter 12
Lorian
WhatamIdoing?This wasn’t the plan.
And yet, Maeve is right behind me, her small form like a beacon. I have to use all my strength to refrain from staring at her like a fool.
Glitter sprinkles from my clothes onto the wooden steps of the porch as I fumble with the keys. The small brass key slips in my fingers, leaving a trail of pink sparkles on the doorknob. I'm acutely aware of Maeve standing just behind me, her presence like a physical touchagainst my skin.
"Sorry about the mess," I mutter, finally getting the door open. I step aside formally, gesturing for her to enter first.
"Pretty sure you're the mess in this situation," she says with a small smile, nodding at the glitter trail I'm leaving in my wake.
I watch her face carefully as she steps inside, taking in my living space. Her green eyes sweep across the stark white walls, the plain furniture arranged at perfect right angles, the complete absence of decoration or personal items. The only splash of color comes from the row of medical textbooks arranged alphabetically on the bookshelf.