Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,35

he liked me too.

And we almost kissed before. God, we were so close, his brown eyes were glittered with gold, his lips were blush-pink and looked whisper-soft, but then his sister FaceTimed him and the almost-kiss moment was lost. Would there be another one?

God, I hoped so.

Chutney finished her business and wasted no time in racing back up the steps. I followed her up and I’d no sooner pulled off my gloves and coat and slipped out of my boots than Hamish was handing me a cup of steaming coffee.

I don’t know why it made me so happy that someone would ask to do something for me. It was sweet and thoughtful, and no one had done something like that for me in years. Probably ever. And boy, having someone at my house made it feel more like a home than I’d care to admit. I sipped the coffee and hummed. “This is lovely, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and I told Liv you agreed to join us. She’s excited.”

“Are you sure it’s okay to bring Chutney?”

“Absolutely. She offered before I could even ask. And I told her we were baking cookies. She said she wants us to bring some . . .” He made a face. “Okay, that’s not completely true. She said to bring some if I don’t make them.”

I laughed. “What if we make them together? Is my input a qualifier, or are you not to touch them at all?”

He sipped his coffee with a smile. “I’m helping and she can deal with it.”

“I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you, she won’t even care who baked the cookies.”

That earned me a huge grin. “I hope so.”

I drank more of my coffee and began taking the ingredients out of the pantry. “So, I was thinking we could do three types with the ingredients that I have on hand. A peanut butter cookie, a chocolate-peppermint one, and a simple sugar cookie but decorated two different ways.”

He looked scared. “That sounds really complicated. Delicious, but complicated.”

“Delicious, yes. But they’re pretty easy.”

“Okay, I’ll trust that you know what you’re doing.” He clapped his hands together. “Now, should I find a different Christmas movie or put on some Christmas tunes?”

“Um, music.”

He grinned, tapped his phone screen a few times, and Maria Carey began to sing. “I just searched her Christmas album and hit play. It’s gonna be a gay ol’ cookie-making session.”

I laughed, and we assembled a few of the ingredients we’d need and I turned the oven on to heat. I took down the cookbook from atop the fridge that my dad and I had always used; it was old and covered in over thirty years of flour and sticky fingerprints. “It’s a bit of a mess,” I said, trying to dust it off.

“I love this,” Hamish said, stilling my hand. “Did you and your dad use this?”

I nodded.

“Ren, it’s beautiful. There’s so much history in these pages. Don’t wipe it clean. Keep it like this forever.” He was still holding my hand over the cookbook, and he gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Leave it just like it is.”

I don’t know how he knew exactly the right thing to say at every turn.

“Show me which ones your dad liked,” he added. “It’s something gross with fruit in it, isn’t it?”

I barked out a laugh. “How did you know?”

“All dads like fruit and nut stuff. Like Christmas cake or fruit trifle with sherry.” He shuddered.

I stopped to look at him. “Fruit trifle with sherry? What is that?”

“That is an abomination, that’s what that is. Blasphemy to the food gods.” He shook his head as if even the memory tasted bad. “Cake doused in the cheapest alcohol you can buy, chopped up with fruit and jelly, all smothered in custard.”

“Lord, that sounds terrible.”

“It looks like the yack bucket at college, not gonna lie.”

I burst out laughing. “The yack bucket? You know what? Don’t tell me. I can guess that one.”

He chuckled. “Okay, so show me, which were your dad’s favourite?”

I turned the page at the front of the book. “Florentines.”

“Fruit and nut. Guessed it.”

I laughed. “And I couldn’t even make them if I wanted to. I don’t have half the ingredients. But honestly, they wouldn’t get eaten. So let’s stick with the fun ones, yes?”

“Absolutely. I’m really looking forward to this.” He did a little wiggle dance. “Which ones are we making first?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a cheat recipe,” I explained, turning to the page in question. “For