Although Cole would rather have spent the past few hours making love to Mila, working under the sink in Raquel’s kitchen had its rewards. The scent of chocolate cake wafted from the oven. He’d even been allowed to taste the chocolate mousse that became the filling for each of the three Yule logs Raquel and Greta were making.
He wouldn’t get to sample the finished product, since the cakes would be tucked away in the spare refrigerator in the pantry until Christmas Eve. He wouldn’t be around then and he doubted there would be leftovers on Christmas Day.
His walk from the barn to the house had been instructive, too. He hadn’t strolled around the area after dark recently. Instead he’d stayed closeted in his loft working on the Beaver Bunch with the blinds pulled down for both privacy and warmth.
Turned out Laughing Creek Ranch became a fairyland at Christmas, with lights twinkling from every house and even some of the evergreens. It was so removed from his own experience that he didn’t react to the display with the same nausea that plagued him when he entered stores this time of year and heard Christmas carols on the sound system.
The ranch house might have affected him that way except he’d headed straight for the kitchen where he’d been inundated with the aroma of chocolate cakes in the oven. His mother didn’t bake at Christmas or any other time, really.
Since Raquel and Greta couldn’t give him any of the cake when he’d finished installing the pipe, they insisted on feeding him cookies and hot chocolate. After he joined them at the table, he checked the clock on the wall. Midnight. Too late to contact Mila.
He glanced at them as they sipped from their own whipped-cream-topped mugs. “Do you normally stay up this late?”
Raquel smiled. “Did you think after we pulled you away from your warm loft and kept you up late that we’d leave you alone to finish the job and let yourself out?”
“That would have been fine.”
Greta lifted her chin. “We don’t operate that way, do we, Mom?”
“No, mija, we don’t.” She looked across the table at him. “For all I know you were in the midst of working on your secret project. I’ve seen your light on late into the night.”
“Actually, the project’s done.”
“It is?” Greta practically bounced in her chair. “When can we see it?”
Raquel laughed. “Someone’s been dying of curiosity.”
“Yeah, like you haven’t, Mom. We all have. For two months we’ve all been staring up at the loft wondering about this mysterious thing you’re creating. The suspense is killing us.”
“Wow. Didn’t mean to bring the drama.”
“Aw, sure you did.” Greta gave him a playful punch on the arm. “I’m just teasing you. It’s been fun. So when’s the big reveal?”
“I discussed that with Mila tonight.”
“Has she seen it? I thought for sure Jordan would have, but she said?—”
“Let him talk, mija.” Raquel regarded him with a steady gaze.
Her eyes were so like Mila’s, only with a few crinkles at the corners. He shifted in his chair. After six months of living here, he recognized that look.
Both women had it. It meant they were processing. Raquel was likely going over what he’d said and drawing some conclusions about his decision to show Mila first.
He had some tricky territory to navigate. “I asked her to take a look and make sure it’s something that you all will like.”
“What did she—” Greta glanced at her mother, then looked over at him and sighed. “Sorry. Keep going, please.”
He gave her a smile. She reminded him of Jordie at twenty-two. Same blonde hair, same irrepressible energy. “She loved it.”
“Awesome!”
“She thinks Christmas Day would be the perfect time to unveil it.”
Greta made a face. “That’s almost a week away!”
He hadn’t counted on pushback. Could he get a reprieve? “It’s not set in stone. If your mom thinks another time would be better, I’m open to suggestions.”
“Christmas Day sounds good to me. It’s a gift from you to the family, right?”
