Santa's Pet by Rachelle Ayala

Author:Rachelle Ayala [Ayala, Rachelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amiga Books
Published: 2015-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

~ Brittney ~

I’m singing “Let it Snow” along with Rosemary Clooney on the phonograph while dancing around the kitchen, mixing the frosting. Everything has to be done by hand. I’m sure electric mixers existed even in the 1950s, but it’s okay. After the frosting peaks, I move the cake from a wire rack to a crystal cake holder.

Ben has moved outside to talk on the phone. It’s okay. He wants privacy. It’s not as if I have any business listening in. Technically, we’re acquaintances, but I’m curious what his grandfather thinks about me hanging out with him. The last time we met, he was furious at me for the accusations my lawyer made.

Of course, Ben’s lawyer was just as bad. Anyway, I refuse to think on these things. It’s our pretend Christmas Eve and I’m the one with Ben—the one he kisses goodnight and holds tight in front of the smoldering fire.

“As long as you love me so, let it snow …” I belt at the top of my lungs as I brush the chocolate frosting onto the Angel Cake with a spatula.

The front door bangs and Ben grins as he steps toward me. “Grandpa’s doing great. He’s asking all these pointed questions about where I’d disappeared to. Wants to escape the hospital, but he promised me he’d stay put until Friday.”

“Great. Then we can go on our third date without feeling guilty. Let me finish frosting the cake.”

“I’ll help.” In a few steps, he’s by my side. “What’s this about wanting it to snow?”

“Then we can be stuck here together.” I dab his nose with the frosting tipped spatula.

He wipes it off with a finger and licks it. “You sure you want to go on that walk in the deep snow? I hear there’s a blizzard out there.”

“I don’t know, maybe sitting by the fire’s a better idea. How about a game of Scrabble? That’s third date worthy.”

“Uh, Scrabble? I’m thinking strip poker.” He dips his finger in the frosting and smears a line across my lips. “We have to get these silly elf costumes off somehow.”

Of course, I lick my lips and catch his finger, nipping him. “How about a twist?”

“What kind of twist?” He arches an eyebrow, but he’s grinning and I can tell he’s game.

“Not only does the loser remove an item of clothing, he has to lick frosting off the winner.”

“Lick frosting? Lucky I work out.” Ben’s lips moisten and I can see the wheels turn in his brain. “From where?”

“Wherever the loser wants. You have a deck of cards around here?” I take the bowl of frosting and place it on the coffee table in front of the fire.

“I’m sure we do,” Ben says, scrounging through a wooden chest. “Scrabble, the original Monopoly, oh, here you go, cards. How about one more twist?”

“Two twists? Sure.” I arrange myself in front of fire, warming my face and hands.

“Truth or strip. Either you answer a question and it has to be the honest truth, or you take off a piece of clothing and lick frosting from the winner.

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