Page 68 of One More Yule Log
“Paper! What aren’t we waiting for? I want to do it too!” Liv handed him a sheaf of paper.
“Well, the list can wait, then. Come on. To the basement!” Ben hopped up. “That way we can put all your stuff where it belongs in the kitchen.”
“Ooh… are we getting the corn-dog maker out? The arepa maker? The fryer? That water cooker deal?”
“Liv, honey, you’re making Daddy sound like a hoarder.” Ben was laughing so hard he clutched his belly like it hurt.
“What? I love unitaskers. Corn-dog makers also make amazing fried cheese.”
“Daddy. Did you hear that? Make. Fried. Cheese.”
“I did. I can make sauce.” Ben bounced, dancing Liv around.
Oh, this was the best. It took so little to make them so happy. Having time together, having each other. They tromped down to the basement where a wonderland awaited.
A shelf, his ass. There was a wall of kitchen shit. Awall.
Only a small fraction of this would fit in the pantry, so he would have to see what they would use the most. They could rotate by season if need be.
He felt like he’d been offered the world—a family, a house, a gorgeous kitchen, and his Ben. He didn’t have words to explain how he felt about Ben.
Gray had never felt love like this before, but he knew it was love. Deep down in his toes.
“So what do we take upstairs, love?”
“Hmmm. Well, we need fried cheese. The fryer could yield that and onion rings, though…”
“Fried pickles too?” Ben asked.
“God yes. Oh, I love those.”
“I had those once when we went to Texas, right, Daddy?” Liv bit her lip. “The corn-dog maker is cool, though.”
“Well, we can take it too. And the raclette. We can do that New Year’s Eve.” He would come back for the bread maker. Gray might be a baker, but he wasn’t above a little help.
“I’ll get the raclette. Liv, the corn-dog maker. Gray, you grab the fryolator.” Ben sounded tickled.
“Aye aye!” He saluted, so Liv did as well. She grabbed the little appliance and headed upstairs.
“There’s gonna be fried cheese!” Liv sang. “Fried chee-ee-eese!”
He laughed out loud. Gray would make some in the fryer and bake some in the corn-dog maker to see which one she liked best.
“Someone’s a little excited, I think,” Ben whispered.
“She is. Good thing I made fried cheese from scratch for a year at a gastropub.”
“That’s lucky. I was a river guide and I got a lot of tips…”
“I bet you did, pretty boy. I never got dick when I was a hiking guide” They would go rafting come summer. He was so much better at that than skiing.
“I used to be pretty. I’ll show you more pictures.”
“Used to be?” They set everything down in the kitchen, and he turned to grab Ben. “You’re gorgeous, baby.”
Ben beamed at him, cheeks going pink.
The kiss he wanted went a little deeper than he expected, and he heard the “ewwww” from Liv, which broke them apart, laughing.
