Elf Against the Wall: A Holiday Romantic Comedy (The Wynter Brothers Book 2)

“Oh, Santa, baby! I want you to come down my chimney after this.”

Grunting, I carefully extricated the woman in the skimpy red outfit from my neck.

“How far down do those tattoos go?” an equally scantily clad woman asked, twirling her baton around.

“I knew you were full of shit.”

“Ooh!” Another of the performers giggled. “I want both of them for Christmas.”

Henry grabbed my arm and shoved me against the brick wall of the town hall.

“I knew you were just using my sister. You don’t love her.” He slammed me back against the wall again. “You don’t even respect her.”

It took everything in me not to punch him in the face. I was working security at a parade practically thrown in his honor. That would not be a good look.

“That’s what she likes about me, actually.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Evie.” Henry gave me one more shove then turned away.

“Is that a threat?” I called after him, taunting. “From you? As if you ever follow through on any of your promises.”

He ignored me and kept walking. Off to be the inflatable hero.

Sirens blared as the fire department cruised up in their big trucks to take their spot in the parade.

I was assigned to watch the periphery as the baton performers walked down Main Street and keep any crazies from attacking them.

Shoving the skullcap low on my head, I took my position.

The mayor made some sort of windbag speech then climbed onto the float next to Santa Claus and Henry.

I tuned out the off-key Christmas carols wailed by the high school marching band as I trailed the performers down Main Street, keeping an eye out for any potential threats. It wasn’t like the parade was heading down through the Gulch. There were dog treat boutiques, for Chrissake. But it had been a thing, apparently, at city council. The more well-to-do citizens felt better with additional security.

I ignored the baton girls and focused on the crowd—lots of families with kids excited to see Santa. There was cheering up ahead as the main float with Henry passed by a particularly packed section.

The Murphys. Out to support the golden son.

I half wished Evie had grown some balls, had just stayed in bed and told her family to fuck off. But then part of me also wanted to see her. Make sure she was okay.

What did I care? She wasn’t my problem. Henry was right. I was using her.

Then why did I want to blow a hole in something when I saw Evie feeding a bite of sandwich to a balding man wearing a fanny pack?

Who the fuck is that?

Evie noticed me staring and gave me a guilty look.

As she should.

No, she shouldn’t.

Even if I had wanted to kiss her, it was only because I wanted to freak out her family, not because she was a girl I’d want to fuck.

The parade moved past the Murphys. I stared straight ahead then finally realized what I was doing and forced myself to continue to visually sweep my side of the street.

Good thing I did, because there was someone pushing through the crowd, causing ripples in the onlookers.

My hand twitched.

Did I go for the gun I had holstered under my jacket?

“Anderson!” Evie called, pushing through the crowd to the barrier. “Hey, Anderson!”

Of course.

I ignored her.

Main Street wasn’t that long, and the parade petered out near the entry to the Christmas market. Townspeople were already streaming into the market for post-parade shopping, to buy gifts for people they merely tolerated for the holidays.

“Anderson!” Evie, breathless, grabbed my arm. “Happy parade day! I didn’t think you would be or wanted to be at the Christmas parade.”

She still looked guilty and hopped back from me.

“You could have told me you were already in a relationship,” I forced out.

“Oh my god.” She doubled over for a second then righted. “I was right. You’re jealous of me talking to Preston.”

“Preston.” The scowl settled onto my face. “Of course that’s his name.”

“Someone’s territorial.” Evie walked next to me.

“If you want to shoot your shot with some guy who can’t just bite the bullet and shave his head, that’s a you problem. We’ve already established you’re a terrible decision-maker.”

“Contrary to what my mom believes, I tend to not make the same mistake twice.”

I pounced on her words.

“What did he do to you?”

“I didn’t think giving a shit about me was part of the deluxe blackmail package.”

Turning, I grabbed her and shook her.

“Tell me. Now, Gingersnap.”

Her lips thinned. Then—

“I lost my virginity to him.”

“Preston?”

“He used to have a lot more hair.” She was defensive. “My mom always wanted to have the big fun house, you know, where all the teens would gather and hang out. She would always have drinks and snacks and beanbags in the rec room in the basement with a big TV. Henry was captain of the hockey team. After games, the varsity team would come over and hang out. Teenage me thought they were drool worthy.”

“No offense, but teenage you had bad taste.”

“To be fair, adult me also has bad taste.” She made a face. “Anyway, I had been ineffectively flirting with Preston. He saw an easy opening. I wanted male attention and to be like the cool girls with boyfriends, like in one of my books. We hooked up a few times. It was awkward. And bad.”

“Of course it was.”

She shoved me. “Then he got a real girlfriend, a high school girl friend, and refused to acknowledge me. I was so dumb.” Evie laughed sadly. “I really thought he and I were going to be a couple and live happily ever after.”

“That’s not dumb. He sounds like a creep and a loser.”

“He wrote a book.”

“Any idiot can write a book these days,” I muttered as we approached her family.

Preston was trying to keep one boy with his same doughy cheeks from taking a singular bite out of every goddamn cupcake Evie had made.

“So, this is the uneducated brute you were telling me about, Braeden?” Preston had that privileged-yacht-boy man-child voice.

The fact that he had treated Evie, my Evie, like she was disposable, like she was nothing, made me want to kill him.

“Yeah, this is the fucking brute.” I drew up in his face.

Preston backed away, stumbling over the cooler.

“Let’s get one thing straight. Unless you want to see just how much of an uneducated brute I can be, that”—I pointed a knife-hand at Evie—“is my girlfriend. Mine. Do you understand?”

Preston’s protruding eyes bugged out even more.

What the hell had Evie even seen in him?

“I don’t want to see you near her. I don’t want you talking with her. I don’t want her feeding you food. Yes, I fucking saw that. I don’t even want you in the same fucking room as her. So stay the fuck away from her. You and your little brats.”

“Um—I—” he stammered.

“Do. You. Under. Stand?”

He nodded rapidly.

The correct thing to do in that moment was kiss Evie, stake my claim.

I pulled her to me possessively, felt the pulse in her neck jump.

Her brown eyes were wide.

Her tongue darted out, licking her lip. Intoxicating.

She wasn’t even my type. Which was anyone not a Murphy.

But the way her curvy body leaned into me, I wanted to feel all of her, turn her to putty in my hands.

I had self-control. I wasn’t going to ever think about this kiss again. It was just because I had a reputation to uphold. It wasn’t about her.

My hand reached up to tangle in her hair. I wanted to kiss her like no man had ever done. Certainly not Preston or Braeden, whose time on this earth was quickly dwindling.

There was crackling and snapping under my hand.

“Evie!” her cousin screamed. “Your hair!”

Evie grabbed the frozen icicles of her hair.

“Don’t look at me!” she cried, running to hide behind her cousin.

I stood there blinking in the winter sun, looking down at a frozen chunk of curly chestnut hair in my hand.