“These men can,” Alexander says smugly.“I have my resources.”At this point, I’m not even going to argue with him.
I wrap my arms around my stomach.“You’re shivering,” he says suddenly, turning back to me.
“I’m fine,” I lie, even as another shiver runs through me.
“You’re in a sweatshirt.In December.At night.”He shrugs off his coat and drapes it over my shoulders before I can protest.It’s warm from his body heat and smells like him, and I have to resist the urge to pull it tighter around myself and never give it back.
“Thank you,” I whisper.“For this.Even if you may or may not have committed a felony to make it happen.”
“Alleged felony,” he corrects with a smile.“The display itself is completely legitimate.I have all the receipts.”
“That’s not the part I’m worried about.”
“Then don’t worry about anything.”His hand lingers on my shoulder, thumb brushing against my collarbone through the thick fabric.“You should go back to bed.This is going to take a few hours.”
“No,” I say firmly, pulling his coat tighter around myself.“I’m staying.”Then a thought occurs to me, and I glance nervously at the Brookman house.“But aren’t they going to make a lot of noise?The whole neighborhood will wake up.”
Alexander grins, that dangerous gleam back in his eyes.“They’re experts.They won’t make a sound.”I want to argue, but sure enough, the men begin their work with an eerie silence.They carry the massive display up the ladder in sections, their movements careful and deliberate.No clanging tools, no shouted instructions.Just quiet communication through hand signals and the occasional whisper too low to carry.
I watch mesmerized as Santa and his sleigh slowly take shape on our roof.“Dad is going to lose it,” I murmur.
“He will,” Alexander agrees, his voice holding a note of satisfaction.“But Brookman will be more upset.”
I glance up at him.“You’re enjoying this.”
He moves behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling my back against his chest.His chin rests on top of my head, and I can feel the rumble of his voice when he speaks.“Maybe a little too much.”
I should step away.Should put distance between us.
But I don’t.
Instead, I lean back into him, letting myself enjoy this moment of intimacy even as my mind screams warnings.Lines have been crossed, but right now I don’t care.Because this wonderful, enigmatic man has done the most ridiculous thing ever, and all I want to do right now is kiss him.I close my eyes, breathing in the cold night air and something uniquely Alexander.
Just for tonight, I tell myself.Just for this moment, I’ll let myself believe it’s real.
The men work steadily, and I watch as the display comes together piece by piece.Reindeer taking flight.Presents piling high.Santa waving from his perch.It’s nearly four in the morning when they finish.The final connection is made, and suddenly our entire house blazes with light.The display is even more spectacular installed than when it was in the crate—majestic and absurd and absolutely perfect.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
Alexander’s arms tighten around me.“Think your father will approve?”
“He’s going to cry,” I say honestly.“Happy tears, but still.”
The installers pack up their equipment with the same eerie silence they used throughout.Alexander handles the final payment, shaking hands with each man before they disappear into the truck and drive away into the pre-dawn darkness.
And then it’s just us, standing in my parents’ front yard in the early hours of the morning, staring at the ridiculous, beautiful Christmas display glowing on the roof.“We should get some sleep,” Alexander says quietly.“Your father will be up in a few hours.”I nod, but I don’t move.Can’t quite bring myself to break this moment.
Finally, he takes my hand and leads me back inside.The house is warm and dark and quiet.We climb the stairs together, his hand never leaving mine.In my room, I should pull away.Should take my side of the bed and maintain whatever boundaries we have left.
Instead, I crawl into Alexander’s arms, tucking myself against his chest like I belong there.His arms wrap around me immediately, pulling me close, and I feel his lips press against my forehead.My heart does something funny in my chest—a flutter, a squeeze, a feeling I’m not ready to name.
“What about your run today?”I mumble against his chest.“Won’t Sophie be waiting?”
His chuckle vibrates through me.“She knows about the display, so we agreed to start tomorrow.She said she’d stay awake because she wanted to see it be set up, but I guess she was too tired.”
I laugh sleepily.“She’s going to be mad she missed it.”
He hums something before his lips find my forehead, and he orders, “Sleep, Olivia.”
