Page 69 of One More Yule Log
“Fried cheese, not smoochies.” She put her hands on her hips.
“You heard the woman.” Ben’s laughter made him cackle.
“I did. Okay, miss lady. Do we have string cheese?”
“Do we have string cheese? We have a drawer of it. I think Daddy’s addicted.”
Ben shrugged. “It’s what I eat during the day so I can indulge at supper.”
“Huh.” He might have to look at Ben’s eating habits. “Well, then. Breadcrumbs, sir! Eggs, missy.”
“Panko, Italian, regular, gluten-free?”
“Mmm. Let’s go Italian today, yeah?” He winked at Liv, who giggled, pulling out string cheese and eggs from the fridge. “She wasn’t kidding. You do have a whole drawer.”
“I know. I like different types. Cheddar with an apple. Mozzarella with tomatoes.”
“Oh, so you eat other things with it?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes I’m in a hurry. This is the perfect in-the-car lunch.”
“Right. Real estate. And nothing stuck in your teeth.” Gray plugged in the corn-dog maker and fryer. He knew where the oil was. “Unless you have peanut oil?”
“At the bottom left in the pantry.”
“Oh, excellent.” He grabbed that, too, since the smoke point was so much better and it stayed cleaner.
“What next?” Liv asked. “Daddy, why don’t we all have aprons?”
“Uh…” Ben blinked. “Because we’re gross, stinky boys?”
“One, I am not a boy. Two, you are gay. You need aprons.”
“Oh. Well, pick some out for us?”
“Yes!” She fist-pumped and went to the pantry.
“Crack me some eggs?” Gray asked. “That way she can do the breading station.”
“Yes, sir.” Ben winked at him, stole a quick kiss, then started on the eggs. “Alexa? Play doo-wop.”
The Platters rang out of the speaker, which was a great choice. He sang along, boogying.
Liv handed out aprons, singing with him, and Ben joined in. Suddenly, his eyes filled with tears.
He was home. With his family.
7
Ben took a deep breath, easing the board with Liv’s masterpiece on the long table that held dessert plates and gleaming trays awaiting the boxes of petit fours, choux buns filled with vanilla pastry cream and Chantilly, and miniature carrot cakes.
That had been Dale’s favorite, and they had them in some form every year.
The Yule log looked… well. Not out of place, necessarily, but definitely less sophisticated than the food already laid out. It was one hundred percent Olivia made. Gray had supervised, but his girl had done all the work.
An hour of slipping down the damn mountain, three hours of Liv singing along with Taylor Swift’s holiday EP on repeat as punishment for leaving, and fifteen minutes of sad face goodbyes from both Liv and Gray, along with admonishments to be careful, and he was there at the last company party he would have to attend.
At least at this company.
