Page 9 of Say Yule Stay
“Your brother knows you’re here,” he says. My eyes widen as he adds, “I didn’t tell him why you left the city and I didn’t give specifics about your car, just that you went off the road near my house.”
“Thanks, Walker.” I swallow down my frustration as I get up and grab my purse off the couch before returning to my seat.
“How does he know you’re here?” he asks, his posture relaxed aside from the slight tic in his jaw.
Interesting.
“Um,” I manage, before pulling my phone from the absolute bottom of my bag and groaning at the fifteen missed texts, eleven missed calls, and four voicemails. “Wow.”
“What?”
“Sorry, my brother.” I lift a shoulder and let it drop because honestly, that should be explanation enough. “We have that tracking app turned on. I thought I’d be at my parents’ house right now, so I didn’t think to turn it off.”
“I think he would have called in a search team, honestly.”
“You’re probably right.” I chuckle before leaning my elbows on the counter. “Are you making us sugar cookies?”
“Who said they’re for you?”
“You did. I just saidus.” I smirk and he blushes—I swear he does, my pulse kicking up a notch at the thought.
“Don’t make this about you—everyone makes sugar cookies at Christmas so they can decorate them.”
“But they’re my favorite.”
“I’m sure they’re a lot of people’s favorite.”
“Where are your cookie cutters?”
“The…” He looks down at the half-mixed dough, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Well, shit.” He rubs his palm over the back of his neck, and I watch as he deflates, and that nearly breaks my heart.
“How about,” I say slowly, getting up from the stool and rounding the side of the island to stand at his side, “you keep mixing the dough and I’ll call Murphy. With any luck, he hasn’t called my parents yet.”
“Think you’re that lucky?” He smirks, turning to face me.
“Probably not, but a girl can dream.” I sigh wistfully and then pop up on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll use the top of a glass to cut the cookies out.”
“That’s pretty genius.” His grin is infectious as he hooks his arm around my waist and holds me against him.
“Walker…”
“Shh… I’ve never gotten to have you like this.” The words are murmured as his eyes fall to my lips.
“Like what?” I breathe out.
“All to myself.” His eyes move back up to meet mine. “Go call your brother and hurry back because we’re going to make the most of this, Lace, and I don’t want to waste a second.
9
LACEY
“What the hell happened?” Murphy asks, bringing me back to the present as I clear my throat and answer.
“I…didn’t get the promotion and there was some drama associated with it. I just needed some time away.”
Suddenly I’m thankful that Walker didn’t give Murphy my work saga either because I don’t have it in me to recount it—not while I’m still thinking about what he said in the kitchen.
“So, you just left,” he whines, “without telling me?”
