I took it from him. It was plastic and had a grip and a button as well as a tiny screen.
“Laser thermometer, it should help you get the boil hot enough.”
“How do I know what’s hot enough?” I pressed the little button on the grip and a red laser hit the kitchen floor.
The ginger kitten pounced on it immediately.
Both Aster and I made an ‘awww’ noise and I moved the laser dot around the floor so Ginger could play.
After a while laughing at this, Aster cleared his throat.
“I’ll send you the website I found, it has the temperatures and the length of time it needs at each.”
I lost an hour or so playing with the kitten.
***
On the twenty-first, with the aid of the thermometer, I made the perfect batch of Russian fudge in the morning and had it cooled, cut and ready to eat when Dillon came home from the shop.
Most of my baking I’d been packing away in Tupperwares for Christmas Day, but I was too proud of the fudge to hold it back.
Aster had gone out for the evening to catch up with some high school friends, so I made a light dinner and served the fudge for dessert.
“Fudge?” Dillon took a piece and sniffed it. “Smells great.”
“Yeah, this is Russian fudge, I don’t... actually know if it’s from Russia but that’s what we call it back home. Mostly sugar, butter and condensed milk, so you know it tastes good.”
Dillon took a bite and his eyes widened. “Oh, this is great.”
I grinned and slung my arm around him, pleased from my baking success and to have him home alone. I loved Aster, I truly did, but I’d been missing quiet time — just us.
Well, just us and the kitten, but he was curled up in a little cat bed Aster had found at a thrift store.
“Glad you think so.”
“I do.” Dillon turned to kiss me gently on the lips. “Thanks for doing the most during these holidays.”
“I’m not the one working my ass off at the store,” I said.
“I know you’ve been working your ass off in other ways.” Dillon smiled and fed me a piece of fudge.
I ate it happily as he nuzzled into my neck.
“Maybe we should give our asses something other than work?” I suggested, half-joking.
I knew Dillon was tired, but also, he was being very cute and affectionate and it was heating me up.
Dillon hummed and climbed onto my lap, looking me over. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting you get your clothes off and in bed so I can fuck you.” I contradicted my words, putting my hands on his waist and pulling him closer to me so we could kiss deep and hot.
Dillon tangled his hands in my hair and I felt his hardness pressing against my stomach.
“You’ll have to let me go for that.”
“Never want to let you go,” I murmured, nipping at his jaw with its pleasant scratch of five o’clock shadow.
We made out for a while, on the couch, getting hotter, teasing each other until Dillon pulled back.
