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Clary pulled her knees to her chest. “It’s okay. I’m used to people not liking me.”
It wasn’t okay.
“Maybe that was why Mr. E chose me to clean up the mess at the bank.”
Seth wanted to roll his eyes at that. How could the old man just throw the weight of that mess on Clary?
Then again, how could Seth be upset? Because if it weren’t for Edward Eolenfeld’s maneuver, he never would have met Clary.
“Thanks again for this surprise, Seth.”
He shrugged.
She turned into the hollow of his neck again. “Were Christmases bad for you guys?”
Seth shook his head. “Holly’s mood was usually really good at Christmas. She got to splurge and do up the place, and she got to throw extravagant parties to show the guests how bighearted she was to treat us—her adopted children—so generously.”
“What should I get your brothers for Christmas?”
“Nothing.”
She lifted her head to shoot him a bored glare, and he cupped her head and tugged it back against his chest.
“We’re not in the habit of giving gifts.”
“Okay.” She tipped her head up again. “What should I get you, then?”
“I don’t need anything.”
“Do you want anything? Gifts can be frivolous.”
He wanted Clary to stay with him instead of moving to the empty apartment upstairs. He wanted the burned body in the morgue to be Gavin Ressler, and he wanted to know for sure that the person texting Clary meant no harm.
“Nothing?”
He shook his head. Nothing he could ask of her.
“Hugh Eolenfeld is deathly afraid of butterflies. How about I set one on him and take a video of his reaction for you?”
Seth laughed. “I’d rather have a photo of you.”
“That’s easy.” She tried to lean forward to grab her phone, but she couldn’t reach it.
“I’m not going to run away.”
So he released his hold, just a little.
Grabbing her phone, she leaned back. “It’s not as if I have the key.”
“The door isn’t locked until Oliver goes to bed, which is around eleven.” He put his chin on her shoulder.
Would it ever cease to amaze him that she never tensed or shield away from his touch—even as she continued to see sides of him that he’d always tried to hide from the world?
“Smile.” She tapped the button to snap a photo, then pouted. “You’re not looking at the camera.”
He glanced toward the photo on screen. “I like it.” He was looking at her instead, which was all he was interested in. He didn’t need his face in the photo. “Send it to me.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said as she sent the photo. “Dinner will be a while, right?” She gave his arm a light slap when he once against prevented her from shifting away. “Stop holding me hostage.”
