Chapter 5

5

Percy

I took the last batch of cookies out of the oven and turned it off. My counter was covered in decorated Santas and snowmen. The snowflakes and ornaments were already boxed up and in the cooler. Dozens of each cookie – which made decorating the cookies very, very boring. Of course, I had made an extra three dozen of the Santas. Those are the cookies that the kids would want.

Decorating sugar cookies was an art. If someone was going to pay three bucks for a cookie, the lines and colors had to be precise. One small mistake and the cookie was unsaleable. I had a tray of messes on the counter, and I had been lucky that there were only a handful. My mistake was my stomach’s gain.

A wish from Santa. How cute was that? Ben was, as always, surprising. It was very sweet that he wanted me to do that. I felt like a fool at first. But something about sitting on Santa’s lap broke the child free from my soul. I wished with all my heart. And as I sat there, I realized something important. I always had the power to make my wish come true. It was inside me all along, and Santa knew it.

I knew it, too. I was happy, and I needed to allow myself to be happy.

My wrists hurt. This kind of detailed work always made my wrists feel like they had been in a vise. Being a baker was not easy on the body. When I was done, I would have to ice my hands and wrists. If I could get these done in the next couple of hours, there would still be time for Ben and me to chat about what he asked me.

I had a gift for him, too. But I don’t think he would be surprised. Happy, yes. But he knew in his heart how I felt. I just needed to work out some stupid shit in my brain to get there. All it took was Santa.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hi, handsome.” I turned to see Ben walking in with a bag from across the street. “What’s that?”

“I stopped by Tim’s and grabbed us a burger and fries. I thought you might be hungry or at least tired of eating cookies. That’s not very healthy for you, you know?” he chuckled.

“What? You’re a doctor now. Cookies are the best for whatever ails you. It’s science.”

“Except for diabetes.” He placed the bag on the counter by the tray of bad cookies.

“Smartass. That word cannot be uttered while I’m decorating sugar cookies.”

“Superstition?”

“No, just every baker’s fear. I think I can be done in a couple of hours. I’ll eat after if you don’t mind. Thank you, though. I just want to get this finished.” I picked up my bag and finished the snowman I had started. His little black nose was so cute!

“You want me to help flood?” He went and turned on the water in the sink to wash his hands.

“If you want to. Are you sure you can do it?” I chuckled, knowing that he could.

“I have helped you before.” He dried his hands on the towel.

“I know, it’s… I’m being me again, aren’t I?”

“I love you just the way you are.” He walked back over and stood on the other side of the counter.

“You’re a saint.”

“I’ll warm up my burger too. Maybe we can eat in our living room and watch a little TV. It’s not very late.” That sounded great to me. I knew he was lonely with all the late hours I had been working.

“With you helping me, I imagine it will be a little more than an hour. I’ve become a cookie decorating machine.”

“Thank you for sitting on Santa’s lap.” He grinned. “You were weirdly quiet after as we walked back here.”

“It was… thank you, Ben. It was exactly what I didn’t even know I needed. But I think I did. I even think my wish is coming true.” I winked.

“Already,” he moaned. “Did you wish to get these cookies done?”

“No. I wouldn’t waste a wish on something I already knew I could do. But it was the wish that I made which told me that I was being an idiot.”

“Which one do you want me to do?” He grabbed an apron and tied it around his tight body. “And you’re not an idiot. You’re just overwhelmed.”

“Santas. They’re the hardest. Use the red bag.” I pointed.

He picked up the bag with the red icing in it and started overflooding the cookie. I chuckled as I walked over to him and stood behind him. “Too much pressure, stud. Squeeze it gently.” I wrapped my hand around his and pressed. The right amount of icing flooded onto the cookie.

“Right… I… uh… You made me flustered.” He glanced behind and grinned at me.

“You get flustered when I touch you.” I let my hands roam over his shoulder and down his chest.

He moaned and leaned into me. “I get flustered just being near you.”

“I’ll do it,” I whispered in his ear.

“You’ll do what?”

“Move in with you. Is that still a possibility?”

“Yes. More than anything, yes.” He spun around and took me in his arms.

“Good. It was my Christmas wish. I’d hate for you to make a liar out of Santa.”

“What’s the health regulations of me throwing you onto the counter and having my way with you.”

“You mess up my cookies, and I’m going to move right back out,” I laughed. “Now flood those Santas so you can take me back to our house and do some very naughty things to me. The only thing I’m hungry for is you.”

“That you don’t have to ask twice for. Merry Christmas, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

“I think you have made me the happiest man who ever lived.”

He flooded the hell out of those cookies. I couldn’t decorate fast enough. I would happily give up my apartment. I would happily become his. I already was.

The End