Page 57 of Wrapped Up with the Three Scrooges

I opened my eyes and gasped. The kitchen island had been transformed into what looked like Santa’s bakery after a Pinterest explosion. Bowls of candy, sprinkles, containers of frosting, and tubes of icing in every color imaginable covered the surface. To one side sat perfect little bundles of gingerbread pieces, ready to be assembled into houses, as well as a box of perfectly baked sugar cookies. Christmas lights had been strung along the cabinets, casting everything in a warm, magical glow.

“You guys...” I took it all in, my chest tight with emotion. “This is amazing!”

“We thought after the wrapping marathon, we could use some fun.” Levi was already wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cook’ with mistletoe printed on it. He had powdered sugar on his cheek.

“Plus…” Ronan leaned against the counter in a way that should be illegal. “You about lost it when I said I’d never made a gingerbread house before.”

I spun around to face them, my heart so full it felt like it might burst. These three men, who probably had better things to do on a Friday night, had turned their kitchen into a Christmas wonderland to make me happy. “When did you even have time to prepare all this?”

“Let’s just say Sophie is very good at keeping secrets.” Max ran a hand through his hair. “She helped us get everything. Shall we get started?”

“I call dibs on the red frosting!” I dove toward the supplies. My hip brushed against Ronan as I passed, and I heard his sharp intake of breath.

What followed was possibly the most chaotic—and fun—decorating session I’d ever experienced. Levi had a whole playlist of Christmas music prepared, which led to impromptu butter knife microphone performances. During “Santa Baby,” he made decorating a cookie look scandalous, his fingers moving deliberately in the white frosting as he caught my eye. Max turned out to be surprisingly artistic with his cookie decorating, while Ronan approached gingerbread construction with the same precision he used on his office window.

“That is not structurally sound.” Ronan looked over my shoulder as he critiqued my attempt at a roof. His chest pressed against my back as he leaned in to inspect my work.

“It’s whimsical.” I added another glob of frosting to hold it together. It was hard to concentrate on the architecture when I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“It’s going to collapse.” His voice was low and entirely too close to my neck.

“You’re such a-” The roof chose that exact moment to slide off, and I turned and stuck my tongue out at his knowing smirk. “Fine, gingerbread engineering expert, show me how it’s done.”

I turned back to my creation, and he stepped behind me, fully pressing against my back now, his arms coming around to guide my hands. “You need to create a proper support system first.” His fingers intertwined with mine, showing me how to angle the pieces. The position was reminiscent of other, less wholesome activities we’d engaged in recently.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Levi waggled his eyebrows, earning a flick of powdered sugar from Max. That, of course, led to an all-out ingredient war that only ended whenwe realized we were wasting perfectly good cookie decorating supplies.

I guess I now knew how they’d ended up with powdered sugar on themselves before I’d even come out of my room.

Max had somehow gotten frosting in his hair, making it stick up even more attractively than before. Levi’s “Kiss the Cook” apron was now more like “Kiss the Walking Holiday Disaster,” and even Ronan’s usually impeccable appearance was delightfully disheveled. A streak of red frosting marked his neck in a way that made me want to help clean it off—preferably with my tongue.

“Look at us.” I laughed, taking in our appearance. “We look like we got caught in a candy snowstorm.”

“Worth it.” Max brushed something off my nose, his thumb lingering longer than necessary before tracing a path down my cheek.

“Definitely worth it.” Levi grabbed a candy cane from my pile of decorations and made a show of unwrapping it slowly.

Ronan surveyed the mess with what tried to be disapproval but came out as fondness. “This is going to take forever to clean up.”

I cleared my throat and grabbed a gumdrop, placing it on my house. “We need to test these cookies. You know, for quality control.” I deliberately licked a spot of frosting off my thumb, watching as all three men followed the movement.

“Of course.” Max nodded seriously, his voice slightly hoarse. “It’s good business practice.”

The kitchen was warm and the air thick with sugar and spice and something else entirely. Christmas lights twinkled off the shiny countertops, casting everything in a soft, dream-like glow. Mariah Carey had given way to something slower and jazzier; the kind of song that made you want to slow dance in someone’s arms.

As we gathered around the island, sampling our creations and arguing over whose gingerbread house was superior (clearly mine, despite its architectural challenges), I couldn’t help but think that this—right here, covered in sugar and surrounded by laughter—was exactly where I was meant to be.

For a moment, the perfection of it all made tears well in my eyes. I’d lost everything once before with Josh. The higher this happiness soared, the farther it had to fall. Monday we’d go back to work, where Blake’s suspicious glances and office gossip waited. We’d have to pretend this delicate thing between us wasn’t growing stronger every day and wasn’t becoming as essential as breathing.

But then Levi stuck two candy canes in his mouth like walrus tusks, Max flicked a marshmallow at him, and Ronan muttered something about “working with children” while pulling me closer against his side, and I decided that maybe some risks were worth taking.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Emery

The air felt charged with possibility, and I never could have imagined finding not just one person but three.

“We should probably clean up.” But I made no move to start.

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