The Christmas Pundit (Laurel Holidays #2) - V.L. Locey Page 0,32

zephyr tugged at the nearly naked branches.

“I read chapter four.” It was out before I could catch it. I watched emotions arrive then flee his face, each one more confounding than the previous one.

“Ah, well. Good then. So you know.” His grip on my arm loosened just a bit. I should have shook free then, but I didn’t. His hold on my arm felt good, strong, steady.

“I know…well, I’m not sure what I know to be honest. You said some incredibly powerful things in that book. Processing what you said has been hard.”

He bobbed his head. “I’m sure. It’s taken me years of therapy to get to where I can finally admit to myself that I’m gay. And please, don’t belittle what I said about loving you. That also took years and tens of thousands of dollars to realize. I did love you. I might not have understood the full impact of those feelings, or even what they were, but I knew they were potent and poignant. They still are. You’ve always made me feel things that I didn’t know how to handle.”

“Gideon…”

He huffed a bit, the rueful smirk he wore with such ease reappearing. “Happy Halloween, Mr. Mayor. I’ll see you Wednesday.” He doffed his hat and walked away, heading toward Valencia and then up the hill to his house. I lingered under the oak tree to watch him strut off, my eyes locked on the back of his dark head. What had he just said? That he really had loved me and still did? Was I hearing correctly? Stunned and unable to focus, I fumbled after him. Why? I do not know. But I did. I jogged along until I caught up to him. He glanced to the side when I came up on his right, then he stopped.

I wet my lips. “Can I borrow your second book?”

“I’ll hand deliver it, Mayor.”

Gideon Pierce was a man of his word.

He always had been. I had to give him that. If he told you he was going to make you eat dirt tomorrow after school, you could bet your bottom dollar that when tomorrow came you’d have sod between your teeth. So him showing up at my home with a copy of his second book under his arm was hardly a surprise. The heat in his gaze when it fell to me certainly was. The serenity that I’d worked so hard to muster over the past four days guttered out like a flame on a spent candle. Thankfully, Pastor Nichols was also here, humming “Here Comes Santa Claus” as he sipped on some green tea, his rather bushy eyebrows all kinds of expressive as Gideon and I had this stupid, awkward thing at my front door.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” Gideon replied. “I brought you that book.”

“Oh. Thanks. I can’t wait to read it,” I said.

“You say that now,” Gideon replied.

Then the stellar conversation died off completely as I got a little lost in his green eyes.

“Brrrr, it sure is chilly tonight! Feels like Christmas is just around the corner, which it is!” Pastor Nichols chimed in to snap the moronic moment. My face flamed. Gideon ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry, yes, come in.” I waved my arch nemesis into my house. I hoped Dad was watching. He’d be so proud. Not of my lusty thoughts about Gideon but about my borrowing the book. I was trying. We both were trying. “They’re calling for flurries tonight.”

“What a perfect night to discuss fundraising for the church Christmas Carnival then.” Pastor Nichols got to his feet and offered Gideon his hand, the one minus a mug of green tea. “Pleasure to meet you, Gideon. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Gideon’s jade gaze darted to me as he shook. “Yes, I’m sure you have. All of it good too, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” Pastor Nichols quickly replied. Perhaps a bit too quickly. Gideon sniggered softly.

“Why don’t we sit down and start tossing ideas?” I said, waiting for Gideon to take off his coat. When he did, I carried it to the coat closet and hung it up next to Pastor Nichols’ outerwear. When I turned back to my guests, they were both seated on the sofa, Gideon with his phone out, Pastor Nichols stroking his neat, brown beard. “What can I get you to drink, Gideon?”

He glanced up from his phone. “Oh, tea is fine. Something warm. I froze my…nose off walking down here.”

Pastor Nichols smiled behind his mug. I hustled into my kitchen, turned the

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