“You missed,” I murmured, shuffling forward so the toes of our shoes bumped. He stilled, round eyes watching as I leaned closer to swipe the cream away. “See,” I said, holding my thumb up for him to see the mess before pushing it between my lips to suck it clean.
His pupils expanded as he watched, the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing like something lost at sea.
“I thought you didn’t like eggnog,” he said.
“No. But I like the taste of you.”
His eyes turned from milk chocolate to dark, and it was oh so satisfying.
“Boys!” Bab’s yell cut through the thick tension holding us hostage, and we jerked apart as though we’d been caughtcommitting a crime. “What in heaven’s name are you doing over there? That gingerbread has to be done by tonight!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Toby called, backing away from me to grab his mug (the snowman one this time) to take a drink as though he needed to fortify himself. The entire time he did so, he avoided my watchful gaze.
Finally, he put aside the mug and turned to the gazebo. “If you keep looking at me like that, we will never be finished.”
“Like what?”
He made a choked sound. When I said nothing else, he stared out of the corner of his eye. “Like you deserve to be on Santa’s naughty list.”
“With the thoughts I’m having right now… I do.”
He made another choked sound and then pointed to the pantry. “Go get some gumdrops and edible glitter.”
I went to do his bidding.
“And some powdered sugar,” he called.
Arms full, I brought it all back to the island, and we got to work making a fresh batch of royal icing and then decorating.
A short while later, Toby started on the Christmas tree that we would place inside.
“I don’t think this icing is thick enough. It’s not holding its shape,” he said with a sigh, stepping back so I could see the droopy-looking branches.
I laughed. “Let me see,” I said, gesturing for the icing bowl.
He passed it over, and I went to mix in more confectioner’s sugar. When it was good and thick, I brought it back. “Try it now.”
“Thank you,” he said, our fingers brushing as he accepted the bowl.
Just that small touch made my entire body hum.
“You think we’ll get this done by tonight?” he asked, breaking me free of the spell.
I nodded quickly. “Definitely. We don’t have much more to go.”
“And then our forced proximity will be over,” he said, stepping back to show me the thicker icing was working.
“Looks good.” I agreed. Then, “It hasn’t been so bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” he chided, all the while piping green branches on the tree.
An inkling of insecurity washed over me. “You hated it that much?”
He glanced up. “When I thought you were pining for some guy that wasn’t me?Torture.”
Some of the tension knotting my lower stomach released, and I rolled my eyes. “Please, I’m the one who had to watch Brett make moon eyes at you everywhere we went.”
“He was not,” Toby hissed.
