Christmas with My Ex’s Dad: An Age Gap Holiday Romance (Forbidden Silver Foxes)
Christmas with My Ex’s Dad: Chapter 5

I pull into the driveway, feeling the exhaustion from a draining late shift at Euphoria. My heels click softly on the pavement while I step out of the car, and I pause for a moment, taking in the warm glow of Christmas lights that twinkle against the snow-covered yard. There’s something intoxicating about the festive atmosphere.

As I reach the front door, faint strains of music and a hum of activity inside tease my senses. Swinging the door open, I’m greeted by the sight of Griffin in the living room, gracefully balancing on a stepladder as he hangs garland across the mantle. The fluidity and confidence in his movements have an odd magnetism that draws me in.

Then again, everything this man does catches my attention in a way it shouldn’t.

“You’re just in time,” he says with a grin, his voice a mixture of warmth and invitation. Glancing over his shoulder, he catches my eye. “I was about to start on the tree.”

A soft smile plays on my lips as I set my bag down near the door. The atmosphere in the room is intoxicating – the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon filling the air. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” I comment, watching Griffin step off the ladder.

“Figured someone has to make this place feel like Christmas.” He chuckles, his hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. The sight of him so at ease sends a flutter through my chest.

My expression falters briefly as I glance around the room, searching for any sign of Elliot. “Is he here?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.

Griffin shakes his head, concern flickering across his features. “Haven’t seen him all day.”

Weird. Elliot hadn’t mentioned any plans or a job interview. My mind races, trying to rationalize his absence. “Maybe he’s out looking for work,” I offer, attempting to reassure myself.

“Could be,” Griffin agrees, though his tone suggests uncertainty.

He gestures toward the large Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room, its branches bare and waiting for adornment. “Come on, help me out. I can’t let you skip out on the best part.”

I hesitate briefly but then nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Alright, but if you hang the ornaments unevenly, I’m fixing it.” Griffin laughs, the sound rich and inviting.

As we work together, hanging ornaments and stringing lights, we fall into an easy rhythm. It feels like we’ve been doing this forever, our movements synchronized and fluid. With every touch, every shared smile, the space between us seems to shrink.

Griffin hands me a box of decorations, his fingers brushing mine briefly, and my pulse quickens at the casual touch. It’s electrifying, the way his skin grazes mine – a sensation that I can’t quite explain.

“So, are you this much of a Christmas enthusiast every year, or is this a one-time thing?” I tease, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

Griffin smirks, not missing a beat. “Always been a fan of Christmas. What about you? Or is your holiday spirit reserved for glittering costumes at the club?”

I playfully gasp, nudging him with my shoulder. “Hey, those costumes have a lot of holiday charm!” We both laugh.

“Speaking of charm,” Griffin begins, an amused glint in his hazel eyes, “let me tell you about a disastrous Christmas tree incident from years ago when Elliot was a kid.” As he recounts the story – an unfortunate mix of youthful enthusiasm, a precariously placed tree, and an ill-timed sneeze – I can’t help but notice the warmth in his voice when he talks about the past. It’s evident that despite the strained relationship he shares with Elliot now, there’s still love beneath the surface.

The laughter subsides, though the smile lingers on my lips. For the first time in days, I feel myself truly relaxing, the weight of work and my troubles with Elliot momentarily forgotten. Wrapped in the magic of Christmas and the undeniable chemistry between Griffin and me, I can almost believe that everything will be alright.

Griffin picks up a sprig of mistletoe, catching my eye with a mischievous glint. “What do you think? Over the doorway or by the fireplace?”

I tilt my head, considering. “The doorway, obviously. That’s where people expect it.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he steps closer. “Oh, so you’re already planning on putting it to use?”

My cheeks flush. “I didn’t say that.”

Griffin holds the mistletoe over his head, leaning slightly toward me. “Well, it’s tradition, isn’t it?”

I swallow hard, my pulse racing as I look up at him. His smirk softens into something gentler. My heart pounds, and I can’t ignore the pull between us any longer.

Griffin leans down and brushes his lips softly against mine. The kiss is fleeting but sweet, his warmth lingering even after he pulls back. A thousand thoughts race through my mind, colliding with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

“Griffin,” I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. He doesn’t answer, but the look in his eyes tells me he understands the gravity of what just transpired.

Heart pounding, I take a ragged breath and stammer, “I—I should… uh, go check on something upstairs.”

Griffin chuckles, stepping back with his hands raised. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Practically bolting up the stairs, my face burns hotter with each step. Once inside the guest room, I close the door behind me, leaning against it for support as I try to regain my composure. Pressing my fingers to my lips, I can still feel the lingering warmth of Griffin’s fleeting kiss.

“Get a grip, Faye,” I murmur to myself, pacing the length of the room. “It was just a little kiss. A friendly, holiday thing. Nothing more.”

But as much as I want to believe that, I can’t shake the feeling that it meant something more, at least to me. I sit on the bed, absentmindedly smoothing out the duvet beneath me as I replay the moment in my mind. The warmth of Griffin’s lips, the way he looked at me—it was unlike anything I’d felt with Elliot. And that thought sends pangs of guilt coursing through me.