Page 126 of Elf-ish

Christmas and her boys. Maggie and Gertie.

And at the center of them all is Angelica.

My angel.

chapter 41

[Angelica]

I hold my breath as Jude stares at me. Knowing he might be angry. Knowing he might push me away. But his typically icy eyes are clear, and he’s evidently going somewhere.

“Angelica?” he breathes out my name in surprise and relief. At least, I hope it’s relief. It sounds like relief. A little breathy. A little eager.

Still, I don’t move.

“Merry Christmas, holiday hottie,” Gertie states, pushing forward and helping herself to enter Jude’s place.

“Gertrude,” Gran groans before addressing Jude. “Merry Christmas, Jude. We don’t mean to intrude.”

“Yes, we do,” Gertie calls over her shoulder. “Oh, look, the party has already started.”

I glance around Jude. “You have . . . guests?” I swallow at the thought. Is another woman in there? Already? I don’t want to believe it. Even if he’s Jude, he can’t possibly work that fast, can he?

Instantly, I’m jerked against Jude’s chest. His arms wrap around me like a vise clamp. I’m so stunned, I don’t respond. My arms hang limply at my sides. My throat tightens. Just as quickly, he releases me and addresses Gran and Christmas.

“Please, come in.”

But Jude holds me back by a hand on my belly. Once my family enters his place, he reaches behind him and shuts the door, closing us off in the hallway. He gently presses me across the space until I’m flat against the wall opposite his door.

“You left.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, straining to keep my emotions in check. “I panicked.” Maybe Jude could get caught naked in his store, but I didn’t want to be found in a compromising position.

He nods, leaning over me by pressing his hand above my head.

“Don’t leave me like that, ever again. You aren’t the only one with abandonment issues.”

I’ve never heard Jude so vulnerable, but I’m on shaky ground as well.

“Don’t you leave me, Jude.”

He stares at me for a second. Those icy eyes are clear pools today, but he’s unblinking as he pushes himself off the wall.

“What?” he whispers as he crosses his arms. “What did you say?”

“Last night felt like goodbye.” I meet his stare. My own eyes water. “Are you saying goodbye, Jude?”

“No.” His voice hardens, and I watch his throat roll. “No, absolutely not.” His eyes search my face. “But I want you to repeat what you just said. Exactly as you said it.”

I give him a questioning gaze before I state, “Last night—”

“Not that. The other statement. Don’t you . . .”

“Don’t you leave me, Jude?”

Our eyes remain locked on one another before he whispers, “It was you, wasn’t it?”

I chew at my lower lip, knowing exactly what he means.