Page 89 of Holiday Hopefuls
Laughter bursts from my lips. “Not this time.”
Callie stands, shrugging. “Good. I’d miss you too much, Rhodes.”
Hope blooms in my chest, that dangerous little bastard. A grin threatens to split my face in two. “Right back at ya, Rutherford.”You have no idea.
“Batch number three, done,”Callie sings with pride as she pulls another set of rolls from the oven. Taking a deep breath, she inhales the heavenly aroma. “I don’t think I’ve ever smelled such perfection. You know, other than you.”
My brain glitches. “Oh, uh great,” I say, making space on the counter. “I’ll grab the icing.”
Setting down the piping hot dish, Callie moves to where the finished batches wait on a large red platter featuring the big man himself. The holiday-themed dish overflows with newly iced cinnamon rolls, their mouthwatering aroma filling the kitchen.
“You think I smell good?” I dare to ask. Chancing a peek in her direction, I nearly expire on the spot.
Plucking a roll from its obscurity, Callie runs a finger along the icing. The woman nearly gives me a heart attack as she sucks the liquified sugar from her finger, groaning in appreciation.“Is there anything you don’t bake?” Either she didn’t hear my question, or is choosing to ignore it.
Forcing my eyes back to the task at hand, I do my best to process the question. “Macarons,” I choke out, the image of Callie’s lips wrapped around her finger still seared into my mind’s eye.
Wide, innocent eyes pull my gaze back to hers like gravity. “Why?”
“They’re delicate and I tend to burn them,” I confess, cheeks flaming.
“Hm. I imagine they don’t like that very much.”
Her comment makes me chuckle. “You know, they don’t. They tend to become rather angry, actually.”
“Yeah,” she sighs, “there’s nothing angrier than burnt macarons.” Cinnamon roll in hand, Callie makes her way back to my side.
Forming my lips into a flat line, I slide my eyes toward her, where a dollop of icing rests on the tip of her perfect nose. Without giving it a second thought, I lean in and press a kiss on the stray sugar. Returning to my full height, Callie blinks up at me, bewildered.
“What was that for?” Widened eyes dart around the room. “Is someone else here?” she whispers.
“Only the icing on your nose. Thought I’d use a surefire method of helping you out. If someone else sees, that’s just a bonus,” I laugh, shrugging.
Callie considers this, setting down the remainder of the treat. “So, if no one sees, then it’s just for practice?”
Turning toward her, I ask, “Do you think we need more practice?” It takes my entire focus to keep my hands on the icing tube and not on her.
“Oh, I think we’ve gotten pretty good at that particular part of being a convincing couple,” she says thoughtfully, eyes roamingmy face. Her plush lips curve into a smile. “But I don’t think we’re anywhere close to perfect, yet.”
Setting down the icing tube, I wipe my hands on my apron. “And practice does make perfect,” I whisper, closing what little distance remains between us.
Chocolate eyes settle on my lips. “Did you know you have some powdered sugar on your lips, Dr. Rhodes?”
“We can’t have that,” I murmur. “Think you can help me out?”
Callie lifts onto her tiptoes, winding her arms around my neck as mine wrap around her waist. Smirking, she presses soft, pillowy lips to mine. “Much better,” she breathes, leaning back.
I shake my head, following her. “I think there’s still some left.” My lips find hers with ease, their siren song calling me home. Her arms tighten around me as I deepen the kiss.
Callie’s fingers dance up my neck, entangling themselves in my hair.
“I hope you remember to wash your hands when you’re done.”
Callie flies off me like shrapnel, throwing a hand to her chest. The one that was just in my hair. “Geez, Connie. You scared the crap out of me,” she pants.
My favorite sibling of Callie’s removes her wool scarf and gloves as her smirk only grows wider. Moving further inside from the garage, curious eyes flit between Callie and myself. “Sorry,” she says, “just thought I’d warn you that everyone else is headed in. You know, in case you two needed to get cozy.” Connie’s hawk-like vision doesn’t miss the heat rising in my cheeks.
At least she can’t hear how hard my heart is pounding.
