Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Hugo can come back in, Remington. Hale and I just needed a minute.”
“To do what? Hale, you’re in the middle of a blackjack tournament.”
“Deal me out. I’ve moved on to pie.” Hale snagged a spatula from the drawer, determined not to touch the dough with his hands.
Remington scowled as my mother nudged him out of the way. She carried a tray of ice water, shortening, and cubed butter to the table.
“Remington, I’m going to tell you what I used to tell my Rayne when she was little. If you’re not going to help, get out of the kitchen.”
I hid a laugh as Remington’s face darkened. No one had the balls to dismiss Remington Davenport—except for Penny Meyers apparently.
“This is my damn kitchen.”
“And it’s damn full right now, Remington.” My mother steered him toward the door. “Go play with your friends, and we’ll call you when supper’s ready.”
“And send Hugo back in,” I yelled as the housemaster was driven into the hall, efficiently exiled from his own kitchen.
Hale and Marta chuckled. As we worked, my mother hummed a familiar tune. Once Hugo returned, she started to sing, “From now on, our troubles will be miles away…”
I chimed in, “Here we are…”
Hale took over with a deep baritone, “As in olden days...”
I smiled up at him as I folded the dough. “Happy golden days…”
We looked expectantly at Hugo, who scowled. “I do not sing.”
“That just won’t work, Hugo,” my mother chirped, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “I have an app that shows the lyrics.” She propped her phone in front of the grumpy Belgian chef and hit play. “Singing always makes the food taste better.”
The recognizable beat of Jingle Bell Rock played from her phone and she pointed to the lyrics on the screen. “See here? Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle rock. Go on. You try.”
You had to give my mother credit. The woman didn’t relent until Hugo finally read the words in the most monotone voice ever. “What a bright time, it is the right time.”
Penny and Marta cheered.
“She’s persistent,” Hale whispered and I smirked.
I lifted the pie crust dough and kneaded it between my hands. “Us Meyers like to keep things chipper. We’ve never met a grump we couldn’t break.”
“That’s partially true.” He kissed my temple.
“Why only partially?”
“You’re a Davenport now.”
“Ah, yes.” I grinned. “And you were once a grump. My record is impeccable.”
We sang and danced as we rolled out the dough. Elara giggled and jiggled to the beat. This was what I wanted. I wanted simplicity and chaos. I wanted family time and the stuff of memories.
And damn it, there went the tears again! I blotted my eyes and Hale looked at me with concern. “What is it?”
“I’m just…feeling grateful.” Rising on my toes, I kissed his jaw. “Thank you. This is exactly what Thanksgiving should be.”
Hale smiled, nodding his understanding. “Thank you for teaching me how to Thanksgiving.”
Only then did it occur to me that his mother and sister were nowhere around. Sometimes I forgot how little Hale knew about ordinary things. I gave him a shoulder bump because my hands were full of dough. “Tomorrow, I’ll teach you about sales and holiday retail. That’s part of Christmasing 101.”
He groaned. “Can’t wait.”
Giddy Up Jingle Horse
“Pick up your feet!” I spun Elara, and she squealed as I sang off-key and danced like an escaped lunatic loose from the institution. “Jingle around the clock!” I shook my ass and twirled, doing my best pregnancy twerk. “Mix and a-mingle in the—” I slammed into a broad chest and my smile fell. “You.”
“Am I interrupting?”
I disentangled myself from Xander’s arms and protectively held Elara like a shield, backstepping until I stood next to Hale. The Christmas music continued to play from my mom’s phone on the counter.
Hale draped an arm over my shoulder protectively. “Did you need something, Xander?”
His gaze dropped to Hale’s apron, and he chuckled. He crossed the room and dropped a load of dirty money on the table. “I won the last hand. I think that about covers your portion.”
“I walked away from the tournament. My portion’s forfeited. It’s all yours.”
Xander shook his head. “I don’t play that way. I prefer to see things through. That way everyone’s clear on the score.”
Oh great, more gambling references.
I checked Elara’s diaper. The one time I need there to be a poop, there wasn’t one. “Let’s take a potty break, Peanut.”
I excused myself with a tight-lipped smile. No clue how Hale tolerated that guy.
Potty training was intense. But it was probably way more messy with a boy. If the bean turned out to be a son, Hale would tackle that one.
“All done.”
I helped her pull up her pants and turned the faucet on so she could clean up. “Mommy’s turn.” While she rinsed her hands—something Hale’s child mastered right away—I tinkled. No matter how often I peed, my bladder seemed to always stay full.