What the Elf? (The Cringle Cove Christmas Chronicles Book 5)

by Kate Benson

  “Before you go,” she starts, slowing my steps toward the back entrance of the dark cabin. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What made you change your mind?” she asks, genuine curiosity staining her features. “I mean, I get that we just aren’t right together, and I can deal with that. Even appreciate that you were able to see it and man enough to bring it up before both of us were completely miserable, but…” she trails off for a moment, chewing on her lip in deep concentration before her eyes return to mine. “Our lists of faults as a couple has never been short, but I’ve never known you to go back on your word, Dex. What made this different? What was so big that you couldn’t wait for two more days?”

  My thoughts go immediately to Abby and my lips begin to quirk up of their own accord. The way Kim’s eyes widen slightly before they soften once more in understanding tells me she doesn’t miss it.

  “You should go,” she says with a gentle nod. “Tell her.”

  “What?” I start, clearing my throat. “How did you…?”

  “I’ve known for a few days, Dex,” she admits, giving me a soft pat on the arm. “I saw the two of you at the coffee shop the other day.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I was going to,” she admits again, swallowing hard and taking a step closer, her eyes focused on her fingers as she resumes her nervous habit of inspecting her nails. “I thought about marching over there, making a scene because at the time, even though I knew there was little truth to it, you were technically still mine.”

  “That sounds exactly like something you would do,” I admit, pulling a laugh from her. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because despite the fact that we were really never meant to be this,” she begins, gesturing between us. “I care about you and I do want you to be happy, Dex. And when all of this is said and done, I still want you to be my friend,” she sighs. “You’re a good guy, just not the one I’m meant to end up with. You have to understand that part of it, don’t you?” she asks, and I nod immediately, grateful her thoughts mirror mine so completely, if only in this instant. “I guess that’s why I never said anything. And I knew things with us were over long before we ever got the courage to talk about it,” she continues, pulling another nod from me. “Making a scene would just wreck any chance of keeping you as a friend. I may not want to marry you, but I don’t want to lose you altogether.”

  Her words render me speechless for a moment, her selflessness something I’d never experienced before in our relationship. The look of amusement flitting over her features telling me she doesn’t miss the irony there, either. “I know. It’s hard to believe, but I actually do care about more than myself sometimes,” she teases, making me smirk. “Anyway, it’s also pretty obvious that she has no idea, which is a shame for you both.”

  “No, I didn’t tell her anything yet,” I confess. “I didn’t want to hurt you, show you any disrespect even though…”

  “And you haven’t,” she cuts me off, giving me a genuine smile of reassurance. “So, go. She seems to make you happy, so you need to tell her how you feel before she goes back to wherever she came from and you lose your chance.”

  “It’s insane to me that you think it’s that easy.”

  “Why isn’t it?” she asks, making me smirk again.

  “Well, for starters, I don’t look like you.”

  “So,” she shrugs. “You’re a nice-looking guy, you have a great personality. What more do you need?” I stare back at her, speechless for the second time since the weirdest breakup in history began. “Just go talk to her, Dex. Maybe you’ll luck out and she’ll feel the same way that you do.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I agree, unable to fend off my nerves as I rub the back of my neck. “Or maybe she’ll tell me to go to hell.”

  “Well, I don’t know much about this kind of stuff, but I’ve learned that you’ll never know what’s possible if you don’t try,” she offers, making me nod. “Well, then what are you waiting for?” she asks. “You’re the one who’s always going on and on about all this Christmas miracle business,” she smiles softly. “So, go. Make one happen for yourself.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Abby

  “Oh, my God,” I groan, peeling myself from the hot leather couch I’ve been sweating on for the better part of the night, carefully shoving Marissa’s arm off me and cringing as I slowly sit up, miserable in every way imaginable. “I’m never drinking again.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it,” she rasps, her voice holding just as much misery as mine, maybe more. “That’s just a lie that girls tell themselves to get through hangovers. We’ll both be shitfaced again next weekend.”

  “No way,” I shake my head, instantly regretting it. “I’m serious this time. I don’t know what the hell that guy put in those shots, but…”

  “Vodka, Abs,” she cuts me off. “It was lots and lots of vodka.”

  I glance over at her, my mirror image looking just as horrific as I feel and cover my mouth at just the thought of the word.

  “We look like hell,” I announce, my voice cracking with regret. “We need coffee.”

  “Yes, I agree, but we’re out again. I only got the small thing and I went through it while you were at the coffee shop.”

  “Oh no!” I gripe, my voice low as I pull myself into a slow stand. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

  “Well, to be honest, we aren’t really all that good to begin with,” she admits, making me release another sigh of agreement. “Maybe we should do something nice for someone and they’ll bring us coffee.”

  “I don’t think it works like that, Riss.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she shuffles passed me. “Even if it does, it feels like a lot of work. Maybe we should just go upstairs and go back to sleep.”

  I watch her move toward the stairs, both of us looking up at them like they’re the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest and I shake my head in denial.

  “I’m going to get coffee,” I reply, my own discomfort likely paling in comparison to hers since I’d started later and drank much less. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she waves me off. “You go ahead.”

  “Do you want me to bring you anything back?”

  “Not unless it’s one of the Franco’s,” she groans, taking one step before her eyes return to mine. “On second thought, don’t bring them back here, either. I’d hate for them to see me like this.”

  Dex

  When I step into the coffee shop early the next morning, I’m more than grateful to already find her there in the same familiar corner we’ve shared for the last few days.

  I move passed the long line still forming at the door, one part of me hoping silently that she’ll look up and meet my eyes as I make my way over, the coward inside me hoping she doesn’t. I watch her as I wind through the small crowd waiting for their orders, the way her eyebrows crinkle together slightly as her gaze moves over the pages tugging at something deep. I’ve considered and talked myself out of turning around and leaving three times by the time I reach the edge of her table. I’m cursing myself for not running away, my nerves getting the better of me, my mind silently demanding to know why I didn’t. It isn’t until she looks up at me that I know exactly why.

  “I thought you had that thing at the hospital today?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m not sure,” I confess, internally kicking myself. “That’s not true. I know why I’m here.”

  She stares back at me, waiting for a response I’m not sure I’m brave enough to speak yet before she leans forward slightly, her eyes narrowing slightly.

  “Dex?”

  “Huh?”

  For the full ten-minute drive over here this morning, I rehearsed what I’d say. I had it all planned out when I stepped inside, however now that I’m staring down at her, taking in her blue eyes, I’m drawing a blank. Well, I think as my ey
es dart down to her full lips. Not a complete blank.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, pulling me from my perverse thoughts. “You look pal-”

  “Yeah,” I cut her off, raking my hands over my face. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just…” an idiot, I think again. “I, uh…” I’m about to tell her everything. Honest, but the second my lips begin to move again, my phone goes off, the alert reminding me I’m an hour shy of being late for the hospital. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I need to talk to you, Abby,” I admit, finally forcing the words, well at least a few of them, out of my mouth.

  “What’s up?” she asks, setting her book to the side before her features contort into concern. “Are you alright?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, glancing down at my phone, cursing the time. Whoever came up with the term, as slow as Christmas, obviously had never been in this kind of predicament.

  “Dex?” she breaks the silence again.

  “Yeah?”

  When I glance down at her this time, she’s holding back laughter at my bizarre behavior.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I glance down at my phone once more before I bring my eyes back up, facing her with a little more confidence this time.

  “Are you busy right now?” I ask, taking in the gentle shrug of her shoulders as she shakes her head.

  “No, not really. Why?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Okay,” she shrugs, leaning back in the seat. “What’s up?”

  “Well, it’s kind of a big favor,” I admit, nervously shifting on my feet in front of her. “You might want to hear me out before-”

  “I’ll help you,” she cuts me off with a shrug. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come with me,” I gesture. “We’ll talk on the way.”

  “Alright,” she says, reaching for her things and moving to my side. “Where are we going?”

  “To the hospital,” I admit, reaching for her elbow and helping her through the small crowd. “You like kids, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” she replies. “They’re alright, I guess. Why?”

  “You know that favor I mentioned before?” I start, glancing over my shoulder to meet her eyes as she nods. “I need an elf.”

  Abby

  Son of a nutcracker.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Abby

  I’m going to have an anxiety attack.

  We’re barreling down a back road in his Jeep, the speedometer hitting numbers I’ve only seen in movies to get to the hospital before we’re late.

  For most girls, that would be enough to warrant the increasing panic in my chest, but I’m not most girls.

  I’ve been in a car with my sister who for some unknown reason thinks she’s fighting for an Indy 500 title every time we go to the gas station. Dex’s driving is child’s play compared to Marissa’s, so the panic has nothing to do with that.

  No, my anxiety is completely due to the fact that Dex, the charming, devastatingly handsome, dimpled stranger-turned-friend, is currently shoving the merriest, most ridiculous looking elf costume I’ve ever seen in my life into my shaking hands.

  “We’re about to be so fucking late,” he promises as he yanks a curly toed shoe from the back seat and tosses it over to my side. “We’ll probably have to run our asses off once we get there, but I think if we’re ready when we get there, we can still make it in time,” he continues, glancing over at me to find me staring back at him in horror. “If we can hurry up and get dressed, we can probably still make it.”

  “Are you insane?” I finally blurt. “I’m not changing in the passenger’s seat of your Jeep while you’re barreling over ice and snow at seven o’clock in the morning, Dex!” Especially not into this, I think. I mean, where the hell did he even get this? “Besides, I barely know you.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” he asks, making my face contort in disbelief. “I’m not going to look, Abby. I swear to God.”

  “Why not?” I ask, eyes still narrowed until he smirks smugly, making my cheeks heat. “I’m just sayin’. My personality may not be a bowl of fuckin’ Cheerios, but I’m not completely uncheckoutable.”

  “Definitely not,” he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His words are low enough that it’s slightly obvious, even to my half-asleep brain, I was never meant to hear them. Still, I can’t help the way my cheeks heat even further. “Still,” he clears his throat. “I won’t look, but we are in a rush, so…”

  “Oh, my God!” I groan as I lift the candy caned striped stockings from my lap and inspect them closer. Eight lords a leapin’, there are fucking bells on this godforsaken thing. “Where the hell did you even get this, Dex?”

  “I ordered it,” he shrugs. “Kim was going to wear it, but…”

  “Yeah! Where the hell is your girlfriend?”

  “Ex.”

  “What?”

  “We broke up.”

  “Oh, my God!” I exclaim again, turning in my seat to face him. “When?” My mind begins to reel slightly for a moment before the now hazy memory of our conversation the night before comes screeching back louder than the sound of his tires when he takes a sharp turn. “Oh, crap, Dex. I didn’t do this, did I?” I ask, cringing. “I mean, my advice. I kind of thought it had something to do with your girlfriend, but I never would have told you to dump her!”

  “Well, I can’t say you had nothing to do with it,” he admits, his eyebrows scrunching together slightly as he bites on his lower lip in thought, bringing his dimples to the surface. “But no. The advice was for her, yes, but we broke up a week ago.”

  “A week ago?” I ask, now more confused than ever.

  “Yes,” he nods, glancing over at me. “Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

  “Why are you lying to me?” I counter, my eyebrow raised.

  “I’m not,” he shakes his head, his expression earnest. “That was the promise I was talking about last night. I broke things off with Kim the night before we left to come up here. I don’t have feelings for her and I thought it would be fucked up for me to come up here and meet her whole family and give her the wrong idea,” he admits. “I told her that, figured she’d agree, but instead, she asked me to come anyway and just not say anything,” he sighs. “Her mom had this whole thing planned and she’s anal as hell… there was a big thing with a turkey…” he shakes his head irritably at that last part. “Anyway, so Kim was worried if she told her the truth, it’d turn into a disaster. I didn’t want to come, but I also didn’t want to put her in a fucked-up position with her family, either,” he continues. “So, against my best judgement, I agreed to come in exchange for her helping me with the hospital thing.”

  “Okay, so what happened?”

  “She bailed on me like she always does,” he shrugs. “And I should’ve seen it coming, but I was hoping it would be different this time. I’m not sure why,” he shakes his head. “Anyway, so yesterday when I was talking to you at the bar, that’s what it was about. Should I keep my promise to not tell anyone we’d split up when she obviously isn’t worried about keeping hers to me.”

  “So, you told her family?”

  “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I only told you, Abby.”

  “Why?” I ask, the weight of his confession hitting my chest harder than I expect it to. “How the hell did I get roped into this?”

  “Can you please get dressed?” he asks, clearing his throat before glancing back at me.

  “Sorry,” I shake my head clear as he redirects his eyes toward the road in front of us.

  I’m about to say more, exactly what, I’ve no idea, but I’m cut short when he begins pulling his shirt over his head, making my mouth go dry, my thoughts blank out.

  Jiminy Christmas, those are some nice abs.

  “We’ll be there in just a few minutes,” he announces, moving toward his belt. “Steer for a second, will ya?”

  “What? No!” I reply immediately, lunging forward slight
ly when he takes his hands off despite my objections. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  “No, I really haven’t. I swear,” he insists, pushing his pants down and tossing them over his shoulder, taking the wheel back. I look away quickly, my cheeks redder than the Santa suit he’s pulling up front with us. “In fact, I’m not sure I’ve been thinking this clearly in a long time.”

  It’s not until this moment that I realize he’s behind the wheel in his underwear, everything aside from his jingle bells on full display, making me swallow hard.

  “This is making my head spin,” I admit, talking mostly about my hangover and the speed we’re currently driving. Thank God there’s no one else on the road right now, I think to myself.

  “I know this is a lot,” he offers. “I promise I’ll tell you everything, but right now, there isn’t time.”

  Normally, I’d argue, demand answers, but something in his expression keeps telling me I can trust him.

  Maybe more than almost anyone else in my life.

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” he asks, meeting my eyes.

  “Yeah,” I nod, swallowing hard. “I’ll get dressed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dex

  “How do you feel about practical jokes?” she asks, tugging on the bright green hem of the elf skirt she’d managed to shimmy into in the backseat of my Jeep despite my reckless driving for the last mile and a half of our trip.

  It took everything in me to not glance into the rearview, get a glimpse of her skin despite my promise. Against my better judgement, though, I’d managed to keep my word and left my eyes on the road in front of me.

  “I’m not really sure,” I admit. “I mean, I guess they can be funny. Why?”

  “No reason,” she shrugs. “I was just trying to really understand why the hell anyone would put themselves, or anyone else for that matter, through wearing something this terrible.”