Page 20 of Say Yule Stay
The blast of warm air is a relief after the pelting snow, my boots already making a puddle on the floor where I’m standing. Careful not to make a bigger mess, we all hang our snow gear by the door as Walker flips on the lights.
The space is simple and clean with Coastal Eats painted across one white wall. The industrial kitchen is impressive, the whole place much different from anything I’d imagined. In Chicago, Walker had a high paying job with a big office and a staff of people working under him.
The contrast is stark.
But I get it.
I canseeit.
We’ve only been here a few minutes, but he hasn’t stopped smiling, his body relaxed as he moves around the space.
“It’s so sexy that they cook, right?” Hallie says with a mischievous grin. She’s pulled her dark hair up into a bun, wisps of hair framing her face. “I’m so spoiled. I don’t think I could go back to all my prepackaged food.”
“That wasn’t food,” Sawyer yells from the counter where he’s chopping carrots and celery.
Hallie sighs wistfully. “I don’t even miss the frozen peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches without the crust.”
“That’s because you eat adult food now,” he remarks, and Walker chuffs out a laugh as he hands Hallie and me each a glass of sparkling wine.
“I’m thankful I don’t have to hear about it anymore,” Walker murmurs and Hallie rolls her eyes.
“He’d probably be horrified if he went to my apartment,” I admit. “I think I might have a couple of stir-fries and a frozen pizza. And coffee.”
Sawyer grunts but Walker just shakes his head and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Good thing I like taking care of you.”
The words are quiet, meant only for me, and a little buzz of happiness zips through my veins as he walks back into the kitchen.
It’s a feeling I plan to hold on to as long as I can.
Because as sure as the storm will end, this little bit of holiday magic will too, and we’ll both return to our own lives.
And this will just be a memory.
17
LACEY
“And…” Sawyer says as he dips his fork into his bowl of chicken pot pie. It’s seriously the best thing I’ve ever had. “I had to field three different phone calls about assorted penis cake options.”
“We don’t do penis cakes,” Walker replies with a furrowed brow as ifthatis the real issue. Hallie and I dissolve into a fit of giggles. The thought of Sawyer fielding that call is something that will live rent free in my mind forever.
“I told them that.”
“I mean,” Walker starts, “we could always expand the business model?—”
“Go fuck yourself,” Sawyer grunts, his southern accent somehow making everything funnier.
Or maybe that’s just the wine.
“Speaking of penises,” Hallie interjects as Sawyer narrows his eyes, “this one time right before Valentine’s Day, we had this guy come to the emergency room because he had one of thosemake a mold of your peniskits and didn’t follow the directions.” Both men at the table wince as my mouth hangs open. “He wastoo embarrassed to call anyone for help, so he threw a towel over his lap and drove himself to the hospital.”
“How did you get it off?” I ask because now I definitely need to know.
“Very carefully, and we told him to stick to a card and flowers from now on.”
I laugh but Walker and Sawyer are still grimacing. “If you have to see a penis at work, that’s a better story than walking in on your boss screwing the woman who got the promotion over you.”
“What?!” Hallie barks, and I lift a shoulder and let it drop, trying to feign nonchalance.
