Page 51 of Just for the Holidays

Nichol swallows a thick lump suddenly caught in his throat and his eyes land on the baker, unable to conjure a reply.

Teddy stares back, drowsily sipping, then turns his head toward the shop window.

Nichol’s interview is a smash. He turns on the charm like a light switch and enchants the young app developer. The job offer is a fully remote position with twice his old salary and perks. They’ve even offered a relocation stipend, just to sweeten the deal.

Colby had done a spectacular job at making Nichol appear highly desired on the market, while he’s been “moonlighting as afreelance consultant”in between career moves, and is only interested in giving that up for the most lucrative offer. But the sudden shift in luck should feel more celebratory than it does—right now.

Staring at the injured baker, perched on his stool, sipping coffee, and staring out the window of this sweet little medicinal-pink bakery, in deep reflection.

NicholDisasterAnderson just may be reconsidering his big city return after all.

Chapter 30

Teddy

Steamed Buns

The customers all arrived within minutes of each other, as if they had planned the timing amongst themselves, collected their holiday orders, and made a fuss over Teddy’s battered state.

After closing, he and Nichol devoured a Chinese spread they had delivered, and Nichol cleaned up the bakery. Teddy rested all evening, once Nichol finally headed home.

His ribs are still stiff this morning, but less sore after a long night's sleep, and laying down for a nap, again—once GiGi was fed.

The day passed slowly, but he savored every moment of this mini-vacation. Nichol planted the seed for a self-serve coffee bar and Teddy sat down to make a list of supplies he’d need to pick up, to make it happen. The melancholy mood over limited time left with hislucky charmhung in the bittersweet air. keeping it from beingabuttery day.

At 1 pm, the phone rang over the Christmas music Teddy turned on, to try and get himself in the party spirit.

“I’m coming to pick you up around 3 pm. You can use the shower here, at Katie and Anthony’s.” Nichol laid out the plan, direct and concise.

Teddy was going to grab a cab to the gym, shower, and head to the party from there, but this works too.

At 3:15 pm, the dark gray minivan pulls up to the snowbank in front of the shop and Nichol dashes through the jingling door. “Ready to roll?” He is buzzing with nervous energy and wearing a green sweater with a white collar and huge crudely cut felt-appliqué Christmas lights, scattered all over and connected by a loosely tacked string of yarn.

Teddy taps the pile of boxes and a serving platter of cookies, covered in plastic cellophane that’s twisted into a rosette closure and tied with pink ribbon. “We’ve got to bring your mother’s order with us.’’

“Right.” Nichol flags his index finger. “You get in the van, I’ll load this stuff.”

Teddy gathers his duffle, packed with his party outfit and toiletries, leaving a pile of gym gear in the office, on the futon.He scoops up the platter of carefully wrapped cookies, to hold in his lap for the short drive.

“Nice sweater.” Teddy bites his lower lip, winging his brows, trying to keep his cool.

“I warned you.” Nichol swings towards him and points his index finger, narrowing his eyes, then chuckles at himself. “Max helped glue on the lights.”

“Cute.” Teddy swoons inside.

Catalog model city turned involved Guncle. Fucking adorable.

Prince Nichol smells like an orange grove and vanilla beans sprouted a dreamsicle. His gaudy sweater is oversized but drapes perfectly on his broad shoulders. His hair is coiffed into strategically structured chaos and his fresh-shaven face is dewy with fancy moisturizer.

Delicious.Teddy breathes him in deeply, well as deep as his bruised chest will absorb the creamy citrus air, holding until his head is flighty, before exhaling again.

Katie and Anthony’s house smells almost as delicious when they enter.

“Hang here a sec.” Nichol takes the platter of cookies from Teddy’s arms and leaves him on the landing while he trots up the stairs and returns empty-handed. “Come on.” He waves an arm, inviting Teddy to follow into the basement.

Prince Dreamsicle flips a light switch and illuminates the sitting room, with stacked boxes lining the far wall and an old sofa, facing wood paneling littered with framed family photos.

“My room is here,” Nichol points at the first door on the right. “And the bathroom is here.” He leads several paces further and presents the next room, in the corner of the house. “There’s fresh towels in the linen closet.” Nichol’s dark pupils dilate as he meets Teddy’s gaze. “Do you need anything?”

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