Page 50 of Not Your Average Vixen
“Condoms, you know, for sex,” Delores answered before walking out the door as if she didn’t drop a Frosty the Snowman condom bomb. What the hell kind of place was this?
“Follow me,” Tanner said, unfazed by the old lady condom drop and waved them into the kitchen.
The guy set his bag of gummy bears on a table in the center of the room, then leaned against the counter as the timer continued to beep.
Did he not notice the irksome sound?
“Let me get that for you,” Bridget offered.
She dropped her purse onto a chair in the corner of the room and jumped into action, turning off the incessant beeping, then donning oven mitts to remove the tray of brownies from the oven.
“Thanks, bird lady,” the guy replied with an easy grin.
Bridget held out the tray and cringed. “Your brownies look a little green.”
Tanner slid his shades down and assessed the baked goods. “No worries! I’m playing around with a new recipe.”
“I see. And you help prepare food here at Kringle Mountain House?” she asked with a nervous lilt to her question.
Truth be told, he wasn’t all that crazy about eating anything this guy touched either.
“Yep, and at Kringle Acres. But don’t worry. I don’t experiment with food for the guests, if you know what I mean. Oh, yeah! Let me get you those sandwiches!” he exclaimed and pulled a platter out of the refrigerator.
Bridget’s plastic smile said she absolutely didn’t know what he meant, but she nodded politely.
Tanner set the platter on the center table. “Mrs. D. made these for lunch while I was busy experimenting with a new recipe.”
Thank Christ, this kid didn’t have a hand in preparing lunch.
Soren took one look at the platter, piled high with deli-style sandwiches, and his stomach released a monstrous growl. He swiped a turkey slider off the plate and ate it in two bites.
“You’re one hungry dude!” Tanner remarked.
He wiped a crumb from the corner of his mouth and caught Bridget’s eye. “I had quite a workout last night. I need to build up my strength.”
His one-night vixen huffed as she buzzed around the kitchen, collecting ingredients when a horn beeped, and Tanner didn’t move.
Did this kid have selective hearing loss?
He took another sandwich from the platter. This time, opting for a delectable looking ham and cheese. “That’s probably Delores, wanting you to join her in the car,” he said through a bite.
“Yeah, good thinking,” the pseudo-Santa-surfer replied.
“I think she’s trying to tell you that she’s ready to go,” Bridget added, wrapping the tray of brownies in a dish towel and handing them to the clueless man.
“Right! Catch ya later.” With the tray in one hand, he grabbed a sandwich with the other, then disappeared out the kitchen’s side door.
Okay, what did he know so far?
They were in a strange mountain town that really got into Christmas and had the best fucking sandwiches on the planet. He took another one, switching back to the turkey, and watched as Bridget twisted her hair into a bun, snagged an apron, then went to the sink to wash her hands.
“Aren’t you going to eat first?” he asked, working on his third sandwich.
She glanced at her watch. “There’s no time.”
He leaned against the counter. “What do you mean there’s no time?”
“I mean, we have to get to work.”
