“Thank you,” I told him.
Oh, yeah. I was so far gone for him. Leaving was going to kill me.
As I sat there, I sent a wish to Santa. I might not have been a perfect boy, but I didn’t think I was on the naughty list.
Just let me stay until Christmas. Please.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Killjoy
I took one look around the garage, feeling like I was never gonna see it the same after today.
Having Danny in my space hadn’t been so bad. Rather the opposite, actually. Having him here was gonna leave images in my head that I wouldn’t forget for a long fuckin’ time. Not that I’d want to.
Fuck! He really was beautiful. I’d truly meant it when I’d said it to him.
His smile alone could take my damn breath away.
I was draggin’ my ass getting back to the cabin. Not sure why. I couldn’t wait to see Danny again, but I kinda had this heavy feeling about it.
The moment I pushed open the door to the mud room, I was hit with the light smell of sugar and vanilla. As I stripped down, my eyes were glued to Danny, shaking his butt while he pulled a tray out of the oven. When he noticed me, he froze, but it didn’t take long before a big smile spread across his face. Thenhe was shaking his butt again with no real rhythm. It was damn cute.
He was just so free.
Something I’d never really had the chance to experience. Deep down, a part of me might have hated him for it, but that part didn’t fuckin’ matter, because more than anything, I realized I never wanted him to stop being that way.
This shit sucked. It was terrifying to realize you wanted someone and were willing to give them everything just to see them happy, only you didn’t have a damn clue how the future was going to go. Did he feel the same? Was he going to take off the moment he knew he had his money back?
Ah, fuck! I had to tell him. I’d already kept it from him for a whole damn day. At this point, it plain felt like I was lying to him, and that shit wasn’t okay.
The moment I stepped into the house, I was punched in the nose with the smell of warm cookies. My mouth watered as I wondered if he’d share. How hot were cookies right out of the oven? When could I eat them?
“Hi,” he said, setting a second tray on top of the stove and closing the oven. “I made some sugar cookies.”
“I can tell,” I said, almost cheerfully. As cheerful as my ass could get. I think he got that I was excited.
“I was thinking we could decorate them later tonight.”
Damn, there was a fuckin’ lump in my throat that I was having trouble clearin’ away.
My head was spinning, my thoughts a mess.
Things I’d never thought I’d be thinking were lingering like they had a right to be there.
All of it makin’ me see things. Makin’ me wonder things.
Like, what would it be like to come home to this every day?
Not him makin’ cookies, but just him here, in the cabin, being… at home in the space like he belonged here.
It was a vision that was so easy to see, but hard to grasp onto.
“I need to let these cool,” he went on as if he had no clue about the breakdown I was currently having. “Oh! And I made some potato soup. It’s ready, so we can eat that whenever you get hungry.”
“Thanks,” I grunted.
He paused, eyes going soft when he looked at me. Then he said sweetly, “You’re welcome.”
