The Christmas Deal

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

Seth stood and handed over the mop. “You’re being kind. I used to love all things Christmas, and apparently still retain useless, boring facts in my brain.”

“It’s not boring.” Logan bent to plug in the mop by the edge of the kitchen, dark denim accentuating his spectacular backside. “Maybe you can love Christmas again.”

“Maybe.” He went to the pantry and stopped short. “What’s this?”

Logan looked embarrassed, scratching his head and fidgeting. He switched off the mop. “I know you bought a fancy dessert, but I thought the boss lady might like homemade. Might taste like crap. Probably does since I made it.”

Seth stared at the dark cake sitting on a stand under a glass dome. It looked like chocolate, and sure, it was a little lopsided, but that only made it more charming. “I… It’s perfect. Thank you. I didn’t know you could bake.”

Logan scoffed. “I can’t.”

“Clearly untrue since I’m looking at the fruits of your labor.”

“It’s an easy recipe.” He shrugged, toying with the mop handle, running his rough hands over the molded plastic.

Seth’s groin tightened. He wanted those hands on his body. Stop thinking about sex!

“It was our mom’s favorite. We always had it for Christmas. She said pie was for Thanksgiving, and cake was for Christmas, but not that gross fruitcake. She said chocolate was way better. I used to help her with it when I was a kid.”

Guilt for his inappropriate thoughts flared as Seth watched Logan smile, a sad little lilt of his lips, his eyes distant, looking lost in a memory. Seth said, “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

“Yeah. She’d always give me one of the beaters to lick while she kept the other. We’d get chocolate on our noses and chins trying to get it all.”

Stop thinking about Logan licking something else! This is an innocent story! Seth cleared his throat. “I can’t wait to try it. Thank you.” There was a battered metal box sitting beside the cake stand, which had to be Jenna’s. Seth stepped forward and picked it up, opening it to find lined index cards inside separated by tabs in neat block letters reading: Salads, Appetizers, Mains, Sides, Cookies & Bars, Various Desserts, and Cakes!

“Cake was her favorite,” Logan said from the door of the pantry.

Smiling at the exclamation mark, Seth thumbed through the cards. The recipes were written in neat, looping cursive, and some were stained with faded remnants of tomato sauce or drops of oil. He knew which cake recipe Logan had made when he came to it, the ink faded in places and chocolate stains abundant, the corners ragged from use.

Seth reverently held the recipe and imagined Logan bent over a mixing bowl creaming butter and sugar. For an insane moment, he thought he might burst into tears, and he didn’t really know why.

“Uh, sour cream is the secret ingredient,” Logan said.

“Right!” Seth replied too brightly. “It sounds delicious!” He scanned the ingredients. “My mom used applesauce in just about everything she baked.” His throat was too thick again. “Still does, I’m sure.” He hadn’t let himself even glance at the mailbox when he’d come home, though the flyers were probably littering the snowy ground now.

Seth carefully returned the recipe card to the Cake! section. He ran his fingers over the metal box, which was a dull silver with a faded, mishapen daisy painted on the side.

“Made it in shop class in ninth grade,” Logan said sheepishly.

“It’s lovely. Truly.”

He shrugged. “Mom stored the recipes she called ‘keepers’ in it. Her frosting’s the best. Oh, here.” He disappeared, the fridge door opening before he returned with a small bowl, which he thrust out. “There was extra. Try it.”

Seth stared at the bowl of chocolate frosting, swirled ridges hardening from the fridge. “Should I just…?” He lifted a finger.

“I can get you a spoon if you really want,” Logan said dubiously.

Laughing, Seth scooped up a finger-full and sucked it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned. “Oh my goodness. That is incredible.” He licked his finger, opening his eyes.

Logan watched him with a hooded gaze, his voice gravelly as he said, “Yeah?”

“Um…” What would Logan do if Seth kissed him right now?

“You’ve got…” Logan motioned at Seth’s mouth, and Seth licked the side of his lips, his groin tightening. Then he dipped his finger in the bowl again and sucked it clean, his eyes locked with Logan’s, their breathing harsh in the quiet of the pantry, the air thickening as they leaned closer—

Beep-beep-beep!

They sprang apart, and Logan barely kept hold of the bowl. He backed out, and Seth followed to jab at the timer on the counter. “First part of the potatoes is done!” Seth exclaimed too loudly. “Better get back to work. Showtime’s in a couple hours.” He had to keep his wits about him.

“Right. You worried about it?” Logan asked as he returned to the mop, the bowl of leftover frosting back in the fridge.