The Geek Who Saved Christmas

“Sure thing.” Maybe in a few days, after Brandon had returned home, I’d text Paul offering a movie marathon and a chance to tell me how things went. And I’d try not to hold my breath waiting for a reply. Damn. I liked him far, far too much.

“Huh.” Chortling, Paul pointed at the tray of unbaked cookies. “Upside down that snowman looks like…”

“No phallic cookie jokes.” I pretended to scold him even as I snickered because he was right. “He’ll look fine after we frost the cookies.”

“There’s decorating too?” He groaned, but his eyes were still twinkling.

“Paul.” I continued the chiding tone to see if I could get another laugh. He laughed more these days, and I was more than a little addicted to his deep, rich chuckle. Rare enough that I felt like a rock star when I earned one, but powerful enough to change a room’s energy with a single note. “There is always decorating.”

“This is true.” He patted my shoulder with a floury hand. We were a mess, owing to being inexperienced bakers but also our inability to stop touching and kissing each other. “Speaking of decorating, you wouldn’t want to help me wrap that jewelry box for Elaine, would you?”

“I would be honored.” I kept getting all choked up when I thought about him giving his mom’s earrings to Elaine. She damn well better appreciate the gift. “I can do it before I head out if you have paper. If not, I’ll duck home, grab something appropriate from my wrapping cupboard.”

“You have a wrapping cupboard?” He shook his head as he set another misshapen snowman on the sheet.

“Of course.” I gave him an arch look before retrieving more dough from the fridge.

“You’re something else.” His tender smile did things to my insides. I loved how he could tease me without a trace of mocking, turning my quirks into warm, shared jokes. But then his smile slid away, replaced with a frown. “You have to head home? Is your cat doing okay?”

“Butterscotch?” I had no clue why Paul was suddenly concerned about my cat. “He’s as foul-tempered as ever, but he did let me brush him the other day, so there’s that.”

“I love that you, with all your endless sunshine, have a cranky cat.”

“Apparently, I attract grumpy things.” I kissed his bristly cheek before plunking the dough onto his kitchen island, which we’d covered with parchment paper to make a rolling station.

“That you do.” Turning toward me, he turned my quick cheek peck into a long, sultry kiss that lasted until the oven timer dinged.

“Cookies!” Head still spinning, I tossed the potholders at him in time for him to rescue the sheet from the oven. The cheerful shapes were browned but not burnt. “Just in time. Now they need to cool.”

We were using a rack more suited to roasting chicken pieces as a cooling rack, and one cookie cracked as I transferred it over with a wide spatula.

“Oops. Guess this one can be our sample.”

Laughing, I fed Paul a piece of still-warm cookie. His face transformed from lightly mischievous to something far softer. He chewed slowly and licked his lips before speaking in a hushed voice. “Oh. It’s like I remember.”

“I’m so glad.” I exhaled hard to relieve some of the rising pressure in my chest. Nope. Still too full. His shining eyes met mine, and in that moment, the whole month was worth it. Every garland, each spreadsheet entry, and the growing risk to my heart, all of it was worth being the cause of Paul’s awestruck expression. Christmas magic, indeed.

We both opened our mouths to speak right as the doorbell sounded. Paul’s phone clattered on the counter, his doorbell app flashing with a door camera picture. His eyes snapped wide open.

“It’s them.”

“Oh my.” Heck. They were way early. Paul had been scheduled to go to the airport that afternoon. But the last thing Paul needed from me was a disappointed tone that our time together was cut short. I set the spatula aside. “I’ll just sneak out the side door.”

“Why would you do that?” He frowned, voice shifting from excited to confused.

“Hello?” A male voice sounded from the foyer. “Paul?”

“Stay,” Paul said sternly, and I wasn’t sure whether he meant me or the dog, who was trailing behind him, clearly no intention of obeying. As for me, I paused partway to my shoes. I could see the foyer through the wide opening on the other side of the island, which gave a clear view of the dining room and then the living room beyond that.

“Brandon!” Paul called out as the front door opened to admit Brandon and Elaine and several bags and rolling suitcases. They looked much like their photos, a little more wrinkled from travel and Brandon had different glasses, but still a cute, younger couple. Elaine had the sort of adorable elfin face that looked good even without makeup and her hair was in a scrunchie. Although her tired eyes said she was probably running on little sleep.

“Sorry.” Brandon greeted Paul with a huge backslapping hug. “When you didn’t answer, I tried the knob, and it opened.”

“It’s okay.” Paul glanced down at Jim, who was dancing back and forth, doggy excitement at an all-time high. “Down, girl.”

“She’s fine.” Brandon bent to pet Jim’s dark furry head and floppy ears. “What a good puppy.”

“You have company.” Elaine’s eyes went wide as she caught sight of me, and then all three of them were turning toward the kitchen. Oh fuck. I was in my socks, dusty with flour, smudged glasses, and undoubtedly sporting beard burn from the earlier kissing.