Page 52 of The Night

The next step in a whole line of tough decisions I’d made for Hazel’s future.

I had a whole alphabetized, indexed list in my mind of all the reasons that was the best, most logical course of action, and if I needed convincing, I had Scott calling me and texting me ten times a day, even though I’d stopped answering two days ago, alternately telling me I was crazy, offering help with whatever “business” I needed done, calling me irresponsible by taking Hazel away from her routine, and suggesting dates when I got back to the “real world.”

But deep down, this ending felt an awful lot like a newbeginning. And I didn’t want the “real world.” At least not the one back in Boston. I wanted this fantasy—the little snow globe vignette where Hazel, Gideon, and I lived together, laughed together, were afamilytogether—to be real, instead.

“Stop overthinking,” Everett had said. “Just enjoy it. See where things lead.”

Apparently, they led to me staying in O’Leary for Christmas. But after that?

Gideon and I needed to talk. Soon.

“Daddy!” Hazel called.

I took a deep breath, blew it out, filled my mug with tea, and went back to the living room.

“Lavender!” Gideon cried. “Come sit by me.” He patted the ground beside him.

Lavender? Seriously?

I folded myself up cross-legged on the carpet and Gideon lifted a brow in my direction. “Showoff,” he muttered.

“What?”

He waved a hand toward my legs. “You’re half human, half pretzel.”

“Oh.” I looked down at my lap, and then over at his half-bent legs. “I guess I have more practice at this than you do. Or else I’m just bendier than you are.”

Gideon’s gaze burned so hot I’d swear my skin singed. “Oh, I remember how bendy you are.”

My entire body flushed. He hadn’t said a single flirty, sex-charged thing to me in a week, and thenthis?

“Shush.” I shoved his knee.

Gideon grabbed my hand and spread it out flat on his thigh. Despite the thick layer of denim separating our skin, this was the most physical contact we’d had in a week, and the bolt of lust that shot through my gut was all out of proportion to the level of contact.God, I wanted him.

With a single fingertip, he traced the outline of my splayed hand, coasting up the side of my fingers and gliding down into the delicate webbing between. Reflexively, my fingers curled into the thick muscle beneath them, and his breath hitched.

“So, Lavender, are you excited for the Christmas ball?” Hazel asked.

I tried to snatch my hand away from Gideon, but he grabbed my wrist and held me in place.

“Um…Isthere a ball?” I asked. “I didn’t know.”

Gideon’s large hand covered mine, pushing my hand into his leg like he was warning me tostay, and my dick twitched.

“Oh, Lavender.” She shook her head sadly. “Of course there is. All the most important people in the neighborhood have been invited. I’m going to find a prince—or possibly a princess? I’m nottotallysure?—who’ll marry me and make me a princess because that’s how that works.” She sighed. “Unfortunate, really, that it’s not the kind of thing you can earn.”

“But if it went on merit, would they have dances where ya could wear yer sparkles?” Gideon asked. His voice was definitely sliding more to Yosemite Sam than anything remotely British.

How could he be so hilariously ridiculous and so ridiculously sexy at the same time? It wasn’t fair.

“Excellent point,” Hazel approved.

“I, ah… I don’t believe I received an invitation to the ball,” I said.

“You can be my date!” Gideon said. His thumb stroked the side of my wrist. The tiniest touch, and my heart rate rocketed.

“Gertrude!” Hazel said, shocked. “You can’t justtellLavender she’ll be your date!”