Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Your lunch. Finish it, and I’ll take over while you eat,” I tell him, gently stroking his shoulder.
He opens his mouth like a fish on dry land but doesn’t try to argue and grabs the sandwich. One kiss later, Nico scurries off to the storage room while I focus on the customer.
The woman is buying a whole set of plates hand-decorated with a mistletoe pattern, and it makes me think back to the tiny apartment I share with Nico upstairs. We have mistletoe hanging in there all year round.
While I don’t miss my grand, yet empty, mansion, there’s no denying that our space is cramped. At least thanks to Nico owning the building, I was able to set up a little office for my podcasting at the far end of the storage room downstairs. I would have done so in the murder-basement but we try not to use it all the time, to avoid suspicion.
Living with Nico has been surprisingly easy. I like my alone time, but he’s also often busy with research, the shop, or working out, so I never feel crowded by him. And then we get to cuddle in bed or on our tiny sofa to watch TV. He’s never bored watching true-crime documentaries with me and loves playing hypotheticals of what he would have done differently to avoid getting caught. Some of his ideas are pretty original, but I have to proudly boast that thanks to my knowledge, he’s incorporated a few new safety measures to his routine as well. After all, I need to make sure my man never gets caught.
I try not to think about that too much, so I redirect my thoughts to the surprise I plan to reveal to him later tonight. I know Christmas is only next week, but I can't wait to share the good news. I’m in the middle of selling a teen lesbian couple a pair of holly-themed rings when Nico squeezes my shoulder, still chewing on his food.
“With the bakery next door closing, it’s lucky you got so into baking. I can’t live without good bread and cake.”
I grin and accept the money before tying a little rainbow-striped ribbon on the box containing the jewelry. “I am still accepting Christmas time wishes, if you want me to make anything specific.”
“Oh yes! Please make your fruitcake. With extra apricots and pecans.” Nico’s blue eyes glaze over.
“You’re the only person I know who is this excited about fruitcake, but your wish is my command,” I say graciously.
We leave the counter to Owen and go together to fix the miniature train that seems to be stuck. Nico could do it himself, but I love his company, so I want to hang out with him now that the rush of customers has died down.
“Fruitcake is extremely underrated,” Nico says with full seriousness. He looks up at me with a frown. “Would fruitbread be just a different type of fruitcake? Would it depend on the ratio of ingredients?”
I match his expression, because I have never thought of that myself. “I’ll get back to you on that, but it’s a gray area, isn’t it? Like with banana bread, it’s in the name, but I always thought it was more of a cake. I’m sure there’s some professional baker or food historian who has strong opinions about it.”
Because that’s what I do now—subscribe to YouTube channels on baking and collect cookbooks.
I used to think that I’ll be traveling the world, wild and free, and instead I’m shockingly content with barely leaving the state and making my man sandwiches. Weird how life goals can change when you meet the right person. Though Nico has agreed to a long vacation in France at the peak of summer next year, when business in the Winter Emporium grinds to a standstill.
After our first Christmas together, I did consider telling him that with the money I have he could simply retire. He could employ another manager and only pop into the store when he feels like it, but it only took me a few weeks to understand that Nico’s heart is in this shop. It’s great that we have my money to fall back on, but he wants the Winter Emporium to thrive and loves talking to people about Christmas traditions from around the world, choose items from local artisans, and champion handmade decorations by holding workshops.
His passion only makes me love him more.
Maybe it’s selfish, but I also love that his other passion is something he can only ever share with me. I’m the one person who understands his need for violence and the art he creates from the outcome. It makes me feel special. We are special to each other, and no matter how much I hate Carl for caring about me so little, I know that I wouldn’t be in this amazing relationship if he hadn’t made the terrible decisions he had.