Page 9 of One More Yule Log
White went better with broccoli casserole, right? Gray could get behind that. He shook his head, chuckling, and soon enough Ben was laughing with him because that was just so redneck.
“What’s so funny?” Liv asked.
“Wine,” Ben told her. “Can you get the butter out, baby girl?”
“Aye aye!” She bounced to the fridge, doing a little pirouette on the way.
“Does Liv take dance lessons?” He was pretty sure that all little girls took dance lessons.
“She’s in ballet and jazz, and then there’s karate, skiing, white-water rafting in the summer, choir, and she is apparently learning to bake. Her choir concert is Wednesday night and her dance school is having a couple of performances in Aspen next week.”
Jesus. The Christmas season was as busy on a single dad as it was on a baker, apparently.
“Wow. I thought I had it bad.” Gray waggled his eyebrows.
“You should come to my choir, Gray!” Liv laid the table out, but she kept sneaking glances at them to see which way the wind was about to blow.
“Mister Gray might be busy, baby. This is a crazy time of year for bakers.”
“Well, it is nuts, but I don’t have any big pickups on Wednesday.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. “What time is it? I mean, I can usually be off by four or five…” Gray searched Ben’s face, not wanting to push in where he didn’t belong but wanting to spend a little more time with this fascinating family. Liv had told him how sad Ben had been when his husband died, and he liked the smiles she got from him.
“It’s at seven o’clock. I have to be there at six fifteen,” Liv announced. “You can keep Daddy company.”
“If you can, I’d love to have you come,” Ben offered with another one of those small, charming smiles.
“Yeah?” Gray lit up at the words, so pleased he could hardly bear it. “I have to admit, it’s been great just to get out of the bakery and have some fun. I would really like to come.”
“I’ll save you a seat. I’ll be the crazy videoing dad in the front row. I record everything so I can upload video for grandparents and Fran.”
“He used to record stuff for Dad. He worked all the time and couldn’t ever come to see me.”
Ben pinked, and the smile slipped a little. “I did. Now sometimes I’m the one who has to miss the good stuff…”
“Not this!” Liv said, so very firmly.
“No. No, not this.”
“I’ll be there.” Gray just grinned when Liv squeaked and ran to hug Ben, then Gray.
Ben poured out the wine, then some grape juice for Olivia. White grape, like their wine. “Cheers!”
“Cheers!” Liv stared him right in the eye, then clinked. She did the same to her daddy.
“Cheers.” Gray smiled at Liv and then saw Ben watching him with this warm look, and didn’t that make him flutter deep inside. Hoo yeah.
They stared at each other until Liv poked Ben’s arm. “Salad, Daddy.”
“I can help with that. Do I need to chop?” Gray stood, coming to stand close to Ben, smelling like pine and a light musky cologne.
“Can you do radishes, please?”
The salad seemed simple—butter lettuce, radishes, and sunflower seeds. Gray approved.
“I can.” Gray took the proffered radishes, then the cutting board and knife Ben pulled out. Gray’s original culinary experience was savory, which he thought showed in the way he chopped. Efficient, clean, and everything came out the same size. He hadn’t lost it.
“Thank you. Liv, honey? Finish setting the table?” Ben put the lettuce in a heavy, multicolored pottery bowl. “What kind of salad dressing do you like?”
“Mmm. I’m easy. Ranch, Italian.”
