Page 92 of The Grump

The shop was empty at this hour. We both ordered chicken po’ boys with all the toppings they offered and then stepped out on the street with our sandwiches. Bailey bit into hers right away.

“Ohhhhh, I’ll remember this place. Truly one of the best I’ve had.”

“Whenever you’re in the mood for it, just tell me and I’ll bring it to you.”

“In-person delivery?” She batted her eyelashes.

I nodded. “Of course. Only the best for you.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to agree so fast. Can we make it a naked delivery?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

I growled. “Woman!”

“Okay. Okay, let’s eat.” She started to shiver as she took another bite.

“Want to hurry to the car?”

“Sure. Or you can keep me warm.”

“We can do both.” I was going to, anyway.

I put my free arm on her back, moving it up and down. It didn’t take us long to finish the po’ boys. Just as we were done eating, we passed a group of carolers who were singing in front of a mansion along the way.

“I used to do that with Avery a lot as a kid.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I teased. And then I couldn’t help myself. I lowered my mouth toward her ear and tugged at her earlobe.

“Xander...,” she chastised, and I straightened up. Clearing her throat, she added, “It was a nice tradition. Didn’t you go with your brothers?”

“Actually, I did.”

“Ha. I knew it. No one can live in New Orleans and not go caroling.”

“I’m pretty sure there are some people who don’t, but that wasn’t how we did things in my family.”

“Then you have to know some carols.”

“Of course I do. Vaguely. Like I said, I go caroling in Jackson Square with the family every year.”

“Right, I remember you told me that. Avery and I do that too. I, for one, can’t wait to have kids. Then I‘ll have a perfectly good excuse to go with them. They’ll need a chaperone, obviously.”

I stopped walking, just watching Bailey as she watched the group. “I’d give you some of that eggnog to take caroling with you.”

Bailey immediately looked at me, her breath catching. She cleared her throat. “Alcoholic or nonalcoholic?”

“Everyone would have separate flasks,” I said, a picture of the future filling my mind. “You would have one with alcohol, and the kids would have their own—without alcohol, of course.”

“And you?” Bailey whispered.

“I would be the chauffeur who picks you up, since you’ll be tipsy.” I’d never had any train of thought that led me this way before, at least not one that was so vivid and full of details.

Bailey would be dressed just as now, maybe with a cap on her head. We’d have possibly three kids. They’d know all the carols by heart.

“What would it take to hypothetically convince you to go caroling with us?” she asked.

“That would not happen,” I countered.

“Why not? I could even share my eggnog with you.”

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