Page 9 of A Candy Cane Christmas
Nodding, I pointed at the chocolate one with peppermint bark in it. “I want that one.”
Hazel gave me a big smile. “That’s a good choice. Will you share with me? Daddy says sharing is important.”
I snorted a smile, then checked in with Theo, who gave me a subtle nod. Conspiratorially, I winked at her. “I think that can be arranged.”
When it was our turn, I started ordering for me—one peppermint mocha, two peppermint bark cookies, and three macarons. I went ahead to pay, but Theo butted in before I got the chance, ordering for himself and Hazel, and paying for all of us.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, my cheeks filling with heat as I thought about all the extra stuff I’d purchased. As far as sweets were concerned, my self-control was barely there on the best of days, but when I was hungry, all bets were off. Which was exactly why I should be the one paying for it. Not him.
Theo gave me a shy smile. “You were kind enough to talk your colleagues into staying after hours for us. It’s the least I can do.”
If it gets him to smile at me like that more often, I thought to myself,I’ll happily talk my colleagues into working overtime every single fucking day.
We grabbed our trays and went on to find ourselves a free table. Skipping ahead, Hazel started frantically waving at us before running off, securing us a table right in front of the big windows, granting us a perfect view of the busy shoppers speed-walking past us.
“Can I have a bit of my cookie first, please?” She asked her dad and lit up when he handed her a quarter of the big cookie.
I offered Theo my plate of macarons. “I want to say I bought them to share, but you bought them, so it’s only fair you try one.”
He let out a quiet laugh, then carefully eyed the red, green, and white macarons. “I’ll take this one,” he said, grabbing the green one out of the bunch. “I think the white one with the tiny red sprinkles is the peppermint one. And I have a feeling you’d like that one.”
Grinning, I raised my peppermint mocha to my lips. “I don’t know where you got that from.”
Theo smiled at me again, his eyes sparkling. “Call it intuition.”
I called it being observant and attentive. I wouldn’t have held it against him if he’d chosen the peppermint macaron; I’d invited him to choose one, after all. But the fact that he’d taken a moment to consider which one I’d like told me a lot about him.
“So, it’s obvious that peppermint is my favorite Christmas flavor. But what’s yours?”
Theo thought about his answer for a while, taking a sip of his latte.
“I think… gingerbread?” he said, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I’m not really sure. I love cinnamon too. To be fair, we didn’t celebrate Christmas at home like this.” He pointed at thefake fir garlands adorned with fairy lights and thousands of red ornaments, and nodded towards the fully decorated Christmas tree, which had a ton of fake gifts under it. “We didn’t bake cookies or anything, and if there ever was any baking, you could bet your as—terisk it was done by the women. So I really only ever started celebrating Christmas after Hazel was born and we were living with Josie’s parents. One day, Josie’s mom, Linda, was baking gingerbread men, and it was the first time I’d ever had a Christmas cookie, so… yeah, I think gingerbread. It’s not my favorite taste-wise, but the memory alone makes it special.”
I blinked, a thousand questions shooting through my head, each one fighting to be the one tumbling out of my mouth.
In the end, I hastily stuffed half of my cookie into my mouth to keep me from assaulting Theo with an onslaught of questions. Gabe always said I could talk like a waterfall—I never stopped. It was the same with questions, and I didn’t want to overwhelm Theo.
“How old were you when you had Hazel?” I asked after I’d managed to swallow the last crumbs.
“Seventeen.” Theo chuckled, but it sounded a bit forced. “I’m the prime example of why abstinence is not only a good idea, but going into that topic would end up with both of us being depressed. Anyway, I’m twenty-one now, Hazel is four, but she’ll be five in two months.”
I whistled. He had a kid at seventeen? Fuck, that had to be rough.
“I’m twenty-five,” I said, not that it was that important. Not to me, at least.
Theo tilted his head. “You look younger.”
“It’s the elf costume,” I joked, shaking my head to make the bells on my hat jingle.
“Maybe,” Theo conceded, but the smile he wore said otherwise.
Most people thought I was younger. It came with the whole twink thing. And yeah, okay, maybe with the whole ADHD-thing, too. Apparently, being impulsive, jumping from hobby to hobby and from job to job didn’t read mature to most neurotypical people. Who knew?
“Do you like the macaron?” I asked, watching the way Theo was taking one teeny tiny bite after the other. “Because if you don’t, you don’t have to keep eating.”
He smiled at me. “Oh, I like it. A lot, actually. Which is why I’m trying to savor it.”
Damn.
