Page 73 of Royal Icing
Ruby hopped off her bed and strode boldly out into the hallway. “Coast is clear,” she said over her shoulder.
“You didn’t see me. And your boots are adorable,” Emma said on her way out the door.
Ruby smiled before the door shut.
Shit. Leo had disappeared, and she didn’t know which way his room was. She popped Ruby’s door open.
“It’s down the hall, second door on the left,” Ruby reported without looking up.
“Thanks.”
Emma hurried away, pausing to make sure the coast was clear. All of this was insane. Dangerous. Reckless. But one more night with Leo was worth it.
She paused outside the indicated door and listened. Faint strains of Christmas music were playing, so at least Ruby had told her the correct door instead of pranking her. She opened the door and slipped inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EMMA
An explosionof light and color greeted her. Leo’s suite was as big as three of her apartments put together.
“Oh, wow. This is incredible.”
“Sorry about that,” he said. “My dad wanted to talk about the football match.”
Emma didn’t respond and found she could only stare. Every corner had been decorated. It looked like she had just entered a department store’s Santa setup. Multicolored lights stretched around the room, and garland was hung from the mantle. Candles flickered warmly, and Bing Crosby’s soulful voice melted out of the speakers.
“It’s fine. Ruby’s aware that something’s going on though. I had to dive into her room, and she basically threatened to have me extradited if I hurt you.”
He cleared his throat. “She can be protective.”
“Hang on,” she said, striding over to the small kitchen island. She sniffed the concoction simmering in the saucepan. “Is this a Santa’s Revenge?”
“I think so. Hot buttered rum plus M&Ms, right?”
“You’re insane. And amazing. How did you know about all this?”
“I had a lovely chat with your mom yesterday.”
No wonder she had been so inquisitive today.
“You called my mom?” she said softly.
“I hope that’s not weird.”
She bit her lip. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. “It’s not weird. How did you have time to do all of this?” she asked.
“Who needs sleep when there’s Christmas to be had?”
She tapped her chin with a finger. “Didn’t you call it a soulless corporate holiday earlier this week?”
“Maybe somewhere along the way, I lost perspective. And I know you’ve been missing your mom and your traditions.”
“This is wonderful. Thank you. Did you try this?” She handed him a mug of Santa’s Revenge.
They clinked glasses, then sipped.
It was a little bit different than her usual batch—better, if she was being honest—but it still felt warm, familiar, and right. She couldn’t have more than one, or she would be useless at baking and decorating later that evening.
