Eating Her Heart Out

Prologue

Sawyer

Christmases with my family were like a Hallmark movie, so it was bittersweet when my two older sisters got married and spent every other holiday with their in-laws. This was an off year for us, so my parents had decided to take a cruise. They would have stayed just for me, which was ridiculous, so I drove them to the airport myself and sent them on their way. They’d also invited me, but that was never going to happen. I loved my mom and dad, and I was happy that they were still so in love after thirty years together. They set an amazing example for us, and I envied their relationship, hoping I’d have that with someone someday. However, there was only so much PDA and poorly veiled innuendos that my sisters and I could take. I didn’t need any more images scarring me than I already had. I preferred to think of my conception as immaculate, and they made that really fucking hard to do.

So with the holiday approaching and no one to spend it with, I threw myself into work. My best friend and business partner, Jesse Blake, kept harassing me to come with him to see his family for Christmas, but I told him I was content to stay home and get ahead on our current and upcoming projects.

We co-owned JS Construction, a business we’d started our senior year in college when we decided to buy a house and flip it. The job had been fun, and we’d worked seamlessly together, so when that was done, we moved on to the next and the next after that. Three years ago, we formed an official company, and we’d made a name for ourselves, which led to having a waiting list of customers who wanted first dibs on our completed projects. Our buildings were usually sold before we could put them on the market.

A year ago, we’d expanded into new construction, bringing on an architect and managing crews to build custom homes. But flipping houses was still our passion and what Jesse and I spent the bulk of our time doing. Despite managing a growing company, we still made time to do the hands-on work we loved.

Which was how Jesse found me a couple of days before Christmas—on my back, fixing a leaky kitchen sink.

“Last chance, dude,” Jesse announced as he appeared out of nowhere, startling me and making me whack my head when I tried to sit up.

“Motherfucker,” I hissed as black spots danced in front of my eyes for a few seconds. When my vision cleared, I scooted out from under the cabinet and glared at my friend as he laughed hysterically. “Last chance to kick your ass?” I muttered, gingerly touching the injured area to check for blood.

“That was the best Christmas present you’ve ever given me,” Jesse chortled.

Grunting, I climbed to my feet and turned on the faucet to check the pipes. “Is there a reason you’re here? Other than to be an annoying shit?”

“I’m trying one last time to get you to come to my parents’ house for Christmas. I don’t know why you’re being so damn stubborn and insisting on being alone. And don’t give me any more bullshit about not wanting to intrude. My parents love it when we have visitors. They are ‘the more, the merrier’ type. My sister usually brings a college friend or two, but she’s coming alone this year. So it would actually be helpful to have you there to eat leftovers. My mom cooks too much ‘just in case’ someone needs a place to go at the last minute.”

My stomach growled thinking about the homemade meal, as opposed to the pizza I’d been intending to order.

“Eating is always the way to your heart, isn’t it?” Jesse smirked. Then he brought out the big guns. “My sister is an awesome cook, especially baking. And I asked her to make Lebkuchen.”

Son of a bitch. He had me, and his smug expression said he knew it. Lebkuchen, or Gingerbread, was a German dessert—and my favorite. My grandmother had immigrated from Germany as a teenager, and she’d made the cake-like cookie every Christmas. Then my mom kept the tradition going, especially since they practically made me salivate. They were hard to find, so I ate my weight in them at Christmastime.

“Fine, fine. I’ll come with you,” I grumbled. “But I want cookies to take home with me.”

“Done.”

I began packing up my tools while mentally planning what to bring and how I would manage to find presents for his family in the short time I had available.

When I finished, we walked to the door together, and Jesse waited while I locked the door and set the alarm. “I’ll head home and grab a bag,” I told him as we crossed the lawn to our cars. We’d had to park on the road in front since the garage was filled with tools and materials. “Send me their address. I need to stop by a mall and—”