Elf Against the Wall: A Holiday Romantic Comedy (The Wynter Brothers Book 2)
Elf Against the Wall: Chapter 11

I hate Christmas. I hate the songs, I hate the decorations, and I especially hate the Christmas cafés with their holiday-themed sugar-laden drinks that seemed to be all you could buy in Maplewood Falls between Thanksgiving and New Year’s.

When Evie finally scuttled into the café, an irritating ten minutes late, she was dressed to fit in with the Christmas vomitorium surrounding us.

She slid into the seat across from me in the booth, ducking her head, her lopsided knit hat low over her forehead, scarf up around her neck.

From the mound of her sweater, something growled.

“They don’t allow dogs in here, Gingersnap.”

“Shh!” She looked around furtively, hand covering the front of her jacket. “Snowball is my emotional support pet.”

Snowball struggled out of the sweater, freeing enough of her muzzle to snarl at me.

Evie wrinkled her nose. “Guess this is not the beginning of our star-crossed romance, considering my dog hates you.”

“I’d bet money she shares the same feelings as her owner.”

“Damn right.”

“And yet.” I leaned back in the booth. “She comes crawling back to me.”

“This is not crawling. Don’t flatter yourself, Anderson. This is blackmail.”

“You need me more than I need you.” I pulled out the burner phone that I’d used to send the photo. “Your family adores me, loves me like they never loved you.”

“Give me that.” Evie snatched the phone out of my hand. “Oh my gosh. These are so thirsty and inappropriate.” She slammed the phone onto the table. “Don’t answer any of these messages. Especially not from Aunt J. Her current boyfriend is about at his expiration date.”

“Someone’s territorial. Jealous, Gingersnap?”

“As if. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you.”

“That’s not what your family thinks.” I crossed my arms. “And not what I think, especially after that little display on the ice. Your tits half out, you did everything except beg me to come on them.”

With the way her lip curled, she was about to lay into me. “That was for your much hotter brothers, not you.”

“Pretty sure I could convince you otherwise.” I let a sly grin form.

Her mouth pinched into an angry pucker. “You’re filthy.”

“Say that again. I liked it.”

She let out a huff.

“I bet you lay awake all night, thinking about how ‘filthy’ I am, Gingersnap.” I used air quotes.

“Stop calling me that!” she practically shrieked. “Ginger is for redheads.”

“Gingersnaps aren’t red.” I reached over and yanked one of the curls of hair that had escaped her hat. “They’re brown. Chestnut, really.”

“I—” Her hand came up to her head.

“Welcome to the Cozy Cocoa Cottage!” a waitress dressed in a Mrs. Santa costume chirped. “Can I get you all started with one of today’s specials, a Frosty’s Frothy Eggnog or an Elfspresso Explosion?”

“Both of those sound revolting. Do you sell alcohol here?” I asked her.

“Don’t mind him.” Evie kicked me under the table. “He was raised in a barn.”

“I’d literally take anything. I’m not choosy.” I let a slow, smoldering smile creep onto my mouth.

“How about a Reindeer Rum Raisin Brownie?” the waitress offered, fanning herself.

“We’ll take that and both specials.” Evie handed back her menu.

“Unless you have something else in the back you’re willing to share?” I let my voice deepen to a purr.

The waitress melted.

“I might be willing and able.”

“Stop being such a Scrooge McDuck,” Evie shot at me after the waitress left.

“You need to stop being childish. You can’t pick Santa’s Holiday Hellscape for a meeting of sinners.” I brushed away the red and green sequins on the table.

“This isn’t some criminal meeting.”

“Blackmail, sexual extortion…”

“No one’s having sex. And what’s wrong with this place?”

“Aside from the nauseating amount of holiday cheer? It doesn’t have good sight lines.”

“This isn’t some opportunity for you to LARP around and pretend to be some sort of romance hero Navy SEAL.” Evie leaned toward me. “This is my life. My life that you are ruining.”

“Don’t forget, Gingersnap, you’re the one who tried to blackmail me first. Choices have consequences.” I poked her nose, making her recoil.

“You don’t call the shots. You owe me—fifteen thousand dollars or Braeden’s head, but you owe me.”

“I owe you?” I snarled, slamming my fist on the table. Despite what I’d told Aaron, December twenty-fourth was screaming down the highway at a hundred miles an hour. I could not miss that deadline, which meant I needed Evie under my boot.

There was a flash of apprehension in her brown eyes.

“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that you hold the cards, Gingersnap. You think that photo sent your family in a tizzy? Wait until they wake up on Christmas morning and realize that thumping noise coming from the attic isn’t Santa but instead you getting fucked within an inch of your life.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes big and wide in her head.

“If you sneak into my bed, I’m going to scream.”

I smiled toothily. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

“Stay away from me.” Her voice had a slight tremble.

She was off balance. Good.

“Look, Gingersnap.” I picked up the spoon resting on the napkin by my forearm. “We’ve already established that you are in way over your head here. Now, I’m going to help you. We shook on it,” I reminded her, “and I am a man of my word. But you”— I pointed the spoon— “are not calling the shots.”

A stubborn set of the chin. If she wasn’t Henry’s little sister and wasn’t trying to blackmail me, I might, after I’d had a lot to drink and no sex for a year, might say she was cute.

I held out my hand.

Cautiously, she rested hers in it.

“Trust me?”

“Never.” She snatched her hand back.

“Two specials and a brownie!” the waitress sang, arriving with a tray laden with the disgusting-smelling drinks.

An oversize coffee mug festooned with what looked like gummy Santas sloshed froth onto the table.

“I saw your cute little dog,” the waitress whispered and slid a cup of whipped cream onto the table. “On the house.”

“Yum!” Evie beamed. “Say thank you, Snowball.”

The dog licked its small black nose.

“Er…” Evie added before the waitress had a chance to leave. “I don’t suppose you’re hiring?”

The waitress looked me up and down. “We are for a stock boy. Night shift.”

“I thought you might need a waitress.”

“Maybe this summer for tourist season. Come by in a few months.”

Evie snuck the cup of whipped cream down onto the booth seat. Slurping noises were heard.

She seemed suddenly sad.

You don’t care. You don’t care how sad she is. We are done falling for bleeding-heart charity cases.

“This is why I need your help,” she said dully. “I’m getting kicked out on the twenty-fifth unless I have a job. But if I can prove that I’m not a complete fuckup, that I didn’t lie about Braeden, then maybe my parents will let me stay a few extra months.”

I scowled down at the sickly-looking cup of eggnog.

“Do you want the elfspresso instead?” she offered.

“Espresso is supposed to be served in a small cup, no sugar and definitely no gummy bears. That noise is the collective scream of baristas in Rome as they all spontaneously combust.”

“I like it,” she said defiantly, picking up the gigantic mug and using her thumb to keep the candy cane bobbing among the mountain of whipped cream from hitting her in the nose.

She licked the froth off her lips, her pink tongue darting out. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan for what?” I asked.

“Nabbing Braeden.”

“Just give me whatever evidence you have, and I’ll work on it.”

“I want to help take him down.”

“You couldn’t even handle being in the same room as me for five minutes.” I crossed my arms. “How are you going to survive with me alone, for hours, on a stakeout?”

“I can handle it. You don’t scare me.” Her mouth set stubbornly.

I huffed out a laugh. “Yes, I do.”

Ignoring me, she pulled out her phone.

“Here’s my evidence. It’s not much,” she explained hurriedly as I scanned the screenshot. “But it’s a start, right? See? I used Snapwave. He was my boss, so I wanted to be careful about not sending him emails or using the company chat app so he didn’t get fired.” She laughed sadly. “Guess I shouldn’t have been so nice.”

I swiped to a photo of her and her dog.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s… it.”

I sighed heavily and handed the phone back. “I’m not a miracle worker, Gingersnap.”

“You’re my last hope.”

Was she about to cry? I couldn’t take it if she started to cry.

Stay focused on the job.

I didn’t need to help Evie. This was all for show until I got the evidence I needed for the real job. Then I’d dump her like an unwanted Christmas puppy.

“Braeden Wallace.” I rubbed my jaw.

Evie nodded.

Before I could stop it, my mind immediately started churning, running scenarios, as if I was actually going to help Evie Murphy, of all people.

“There is evidence out there.” I spun the silver spoon around on the reclaimed-wood tabletop. “Braeden’s cautious but full of himself. He made a mistake somewhere.”

The Christmas lights glinted off the spoon as it rotated.

“How was the sex with him?”

“What kind of question is that?” Evie sputtered.

I looked at her coldly. “Don’t worry. I don’t need to hear your lackluster bedroom activities to get off.” I tilted my head to the waitress, who was making bedroom eyes at me from across the room. “I could get laid in the storage room right now.”

Evie’s cheeks flushed.

“I guess it was okay,” she mumbled.

“So worse than being fondled by some teenage boy under the bleachers in high school. Got it. If Braeden sucks that bad at knowing what women want, then he likely believes he’s God’s gift in bed and thinks sleeping with you was fantastic. He’ll want a souvenir. Something to remember the conquest. Did you send him topless photos, used underwear, anything like that?”

“I—” She bit her lip.

I pushed the eggnog latte over to her to coax her to talk and to get the smelly concoction out from under my nose. “I can’t help you if you don’t give me all the information. Any small detail could be what nails this guy.”

She held up her napkin to block her face from the crowded café.

“I sent one…” She held up a finger. “One topless photo, but my face isn’t in it. It’s an artsy photo. Just…” She motioned around her ample chest area.

I could almost imagine what it would have looked like, those huge tits, dark-pink nipples. Was she touching herself in the photo?

She gulped down the latte.

“Do you have any tattoos, scars, birthmarks, or piercings that could identify you?”

“I photoshopped out the mole,” she admitted.

“Great.” I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. There was a collection of demented-looking inflatable reindeer up there. “Did you do anything else to make this difficult job more impossible?”

“I had to! There was a hair growing out of it. Er—” Her face burned red.

I snorted. “No judgment here. I’ve slept with plenty of witches.”

Evie balled up her napkin and threw it at me.

I batted it down.

“Shit, the dog. Your dog, Evie.”

The dog lapped up the last of the elfspresso.

“That was mine, Snowball.” Evie tried to pry the slobbery candy cane out of the Pomeranian’s mouth while I gagged.

Finally giving up, Evie made a disgusted noise.

Wordlessly, I handed her a napkin to wipe her sticky hands.

“You’re going to be sorry later,” she told the dog as its sharp little teeth crunched the candy. “All that candy isn’t good for doggies.”

I wasn’t going to make it till Christmas.

Snowball practically vibrated in Evie’s lap. From the sugar, the caffeine, or because she was about to launch across the table and attack me—who knew?

“You got red all over your white fur. Yes, you did.” Evie dabbed the napkin on the dog’s muzzle.

“Can you please focus, woman? Both of you have had too much caffeine.”

“Sorry.” She saluted me.

“You need to write down all of your conversations with Braeden,” I ordered. “And give me a list of his friends, family, acquaintances, and favorite places to go. It’s been a year, so the trail’s going to be pretty cold.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s like a spy movie.” She impulsively grabbed my hand. “You’re going to save me. I’m so glad we worked this out,” she gushed. “Obviously, you’re not going to be showing up at my parents’ house unannounced, so we should set up some meeting times. Do you have a secret lair?” She shrank at the expression on my face.

“Gingersnap, I plan on showing up to all your family holiday parties. Just because I’m helping you doesn’t mean you get to fuck with me and get away with it.”