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This was not how Tom had thought he’d be spending Christmas Day.
“Make the white chocolate ganache for the truffles while I make the royal icing,” Julie said as she set up the stand mixer.
“But that wasn’t in the schedule until—”
“Just do it! The recipe is on my phone. I forgot that the ganache needs to cool in the fridge for a while, and we only have two hours left. Go! Go!”
Dutifully, he got out the white chocolate and the heavy cream.
The first batch of gingerbread was in the oven, and he thought things were going not too badly. Sure, Julie was bossing him around, but he kind of enjoyed it. As long as she mostly kept to his schedule, he wouldn’t complain.
“What are the truffles for?” Bonnie asked. “This is a gingerbread house.”
“I’m being creative,” Julie snapped. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Mom, shut up!”
Tom couldn’t imagine saying “shut up” to his own mother, but Bonnie seemed to take it in stride, and he understood Julie’s frustration.
It was annoying to bake when other people were watching.
He’d hoped her mother and father would get bored of being in the kitchen, but it had yet to happen. Although their presence made him a bit nervous, he tried his best to focus on the task at hand.
And tried not to think about how he’d kissed Julie.
He kept looking at her and bumping into her, though. The kitchen wasn’t huge, and he was always conscious of where she was in it.
Although this wasn’t what he’d expected when Julie had asked him to accompany her to her hometown, to his surprise, he couldn’t say he minded.
What was happening to him? He liked that she’d dragged him into the snow. He liked that she’d goaded him, and he’d kissed her without thinking.
He pulled the pans out of the oven and trimmed the gingerbread pieces to match the templates, as his recipe instructed. Everything needed to be perfect for the house to stay up.
He was particularly pleased with the stained-glass windows. He’d cut window-shaped holes in the gingerbread and added crushed hard candies, which had melted in the oven.
“Those look great,” Julie said.
“What looks great?” Bonnie asked.
“Stop with the questions. We’re busy.”
“In the baking shows I watch, people are always talking to the bakers while they work. It’s not good television if they don’t talk at all.”
“But we’re not on television!”
Tom suppressed a laugh.
“Can I try the gingerbread?” Julie asked him. “The part you trimmed.”
He picked up a thin piece and held it out.
“My hands are a mess,” she said. “Stick it right in my mouth.”
Was she doing this just to bug him?
“Please, mon petit chou-fleur,” she added.
“Why are you talking in French?” Albert asked. “What does it mean?”
“Probably something to do with sex,” Bonnie said.
Tom nearly choked, then composed himself and dropped the small piece of gingerbread in Julie’s mouth. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear afterward, unable to resist touching her.
“Mmm, that’s delicious,” she said. “Good job finding the recipe, mon petit chou-fleur.”
“What are you calling him?” Albert demanded.
Tom put the second batch of gingerbread in the oven and tried not to feel too pleased that Julie liked it. Then he started cleaning the dirty bowls.
“Why are you cleaning?” Julie asked.
“Because I clean as I go.” He didn’t understand people who did otherwise.
“We have less than two hours to make an impressive gingerbread house. We don’t have time.”
Now this was getting out of hand.
He’d let a lot of chaos into his life today. A lot. He was coping reasonably well with it, all things considered.
But a dirty kitchen? That was one step too far.
“I’ll be quick,” he grumbled.
Cleaning did help to soothe his nerves. He was about to put another bowl in the dish rack when Julie said, “Tell me what you think of this color.”
She’d separated the royal icing into three dishes. The large dish contained white icing, but there were two smaller dishes, one with green icing and one with red.
“Does it have to be so bright?” he asked.
“I’ll take that as a sign it’s perfect. What do you think of the consistency? Do I need to add a little water?”
This was why he wished he’d known about the gingerbread competition beforehand. So he could have figured out things—like the consistency of royal icing—when there weren’t three people breathing down his neck.
Though this was kind of exciting, doing something he’d never done before under a strict time limit.
No! What was wrong with him? He didn’t like exciting.
“I think it’s okay,” he mumbled.
Julie shot him a quick smile, and he couldn’t help remembering what it had been like to have his lips on hers. He wished he could kiss her again. Would she taste like gingerbread now?
He was horribly discombobulated.
But at least he had a schedule to adhere to. That did make him feel a bit better.
* * *
“Why isn’t the roof on the gingerbread house yet?” Julie asked. “Come on, we only have forty minutes!”
“I’m waiting for the royal icing on the walls to set so the roof doesn’t collapse,” Tom said. “It would be best if we had longer, but another few minutes should do the trick.”
She decided to trust him. He’d probably done lots of research.
She had to admit they made an excellent team. He was in charge of the construction, and so far, so good. She also had to concede that his schedule had worked. They’d deviated from it in a few places—which, fortunately, hadn’t made him too addled—and were on time now.
His insistence on washing everything as they went was a little annoying. In a normal situation, she agreed. It was best to keep on top of the cleaning. But this was hardly a normal situation.
“I think it’s looking better than Charlotte and Mike’s,” Dad said.
Mom smacked his shoulder. “Don’t say such things in front of the competition.”
Julie couldn’t help a private smile. It was just a gingerbread house, but she was winning against her sister for once.
Or maybe her parents were messing with her. She wouldn’t put it past them.
She looked over at Tom, who was carefully applying royal icing to the tops of the gingerbread walls. He stuck the roof pieces on top and held them there.
It was rather hot to see him concentrating so hard on a gingerbread house.
Given the amount she was thinking about their kiss, it was surprising she was able to function at all, especially in such close proximity to him. She couldn’t stop wanting to wipe that look of concentration off his face...or watch him concentrate on other things. Like, if he had his head between her legs...
“Can I put the buttercream on the roof now?” she asked.
“Give it a few more minutes,” he said.
“Okay.” Instead, she iced the gingerbread people and the reindeer. The reindeer hadn’t been in the initial plans, but she very much wanted a reindeer. She gave him a red M&M for his nose and used gumdrops for buttons on the two people.
“Don’t you think those buttons are a little big?” Tom looked over at her, the corners of his lips twitching.
OMG. He was teasing her!
She couldn’t help feeling warm inside.
“They’re perfect,” she said.
Finally, he decided the roof was stable. He probably had some kind of special engineering equipment for gingerbread houses in his pocket. And then he—
He was getting out his stain remover pen?
She studied his shirt and noted a small red stain on the sleeve. Red royal icing, she assumed. It matched his Santa tie.
Although it was utterly ridiculous to bake in such an outfit, somehow, it was charming. As was the stain remover pen.
She was sweating now.
She found him charming and incredibly handsome, and she wanted to see him take off that tie and unbutton the top button on his shirt. But that was probably something he’d never do in public.
And the fact that he wouldn’t...yes, she found that cute, too.
Focus, Julie. You’ve got to win this competition.
For some reason, she felt like winning this competition would prove something to her parents and also make everyone believe that she and Tom were a real couple, because they worked so well together.
Don’t forget this is fake...
“You can put the buttercream snow on the roof now,” Tom said.
She brought the piping bag over to the kitchen table. “Get out the ganache and roll the snowballs in shredded coconut.”
“Do you think they’ll finish in time?” Mom asked Dad.
“I don’t know. I think it’s going to be close.”
Julie sighed in frustration, but she wouldn’t let them get to her.
She and Tom were making the best damn gingerbread house that two people who’d never made a gingerbread house before could construct.
Finished with the roof, she quickly piped buttercream on the ground around the house. Tom brought over two snowmen made of truffles. His elbow brushed hers.
“You’ll get buttercream on your tie if you don’t watch it,” she said as the end of his tie dipped precariously close to the buttercream on the roof.
She thought he might have uttered a swear word, but she couldn’t be sure. Then, to her surprise, he unknotted his Santa tie and draped it over the back of a chair.
She swallowed. That simple action had made her hot and bothered.
“An interesting development,” Dad said. “Baker Number Two is starting to undress.”
Tom’s cheeks were nearly as red as that royal icing.
“Dad!” Julie shouted. “Stop talking about this like it’s a sports game.”
“Ah, Baker Number One is talking back to the judges,” Mom said. “What do you think, Albert? Will this get her in trouble?”
Julie couldn’t wait for the competition to be over.
* * *
“...three, two, one. Time’s up,” Mom said.
Julie held up her hands. Unfortunately, the gingerbread man she’d been fiddling with immediately toppled onto its back, but otherwise, the gingerbread house was pretty spectacular, given they’d had little idea what they were doing and had to listen to her parents’ commentary for two and a half hours.
“What is Tom doing on his back?” Mom asked.
“How did you know that gingerbread man was Tom?” Julie said.
“It looks like there is a man and a woman, so it’s only common sense. Yes, the reindeer threw me off, but I think it must be you two.”
“He’s making a snow angel,” Julie said, glad the gingerbread woman hadn’t fallen on top of her companion.
“Charlotte and Mike!” Mom yelled. “You can come down now.”
A few seconds later, Julie heard footsteps on the stairs. On their way to the kitchen, Mike and Charlotte picked up a tray, covered in a large plastic container, from the dining room table. They set it next to Julie and Tom’s gingerbread house, and Mike lifted the container with a flourish, revealing...
What the hell?
Julie peered at it. It looked like a gingerbread house...sort of? But the roof had collapsed. And what was that giant blue thing?
“It’s a kraken,” Mike said, answering her unspoken question. “We were going for a steampunk theme.”
“Ah, so that’s what you were doing,” Mom said. “I did not understand at all.”
“Perhaps you should have gone for a ‘solid construction’ theme instead,” Julie said to Charlotte, who gave her the middle finger.
Julie couldn’t help laughing. She and Tom had this in the bag.
Mom assumed a dignified stance. “Team Two’s gingerbread house clearly wins on presentation.”
“Agreed,” Dad said. “But which one will taste better? Find out after the break.”
“What are you doing?” Mom asked. “There are no commercial breaks on Sugar Rush. It’s on Netflix. Contestants, please take a plate and serve us a piece of your creations.”
Julie grabbed a plate from the cupboard and placed the gingerbread reindeer on it, as well as a single coconut white chocolate snowball and a dollop of buttercream. Charlotte placed most of the kraken on another plate and handed it to their mother.
Mom broke off a piece of the kraken and chewed thoughtfully. “Not bad, but I don’t think the balance of spices is quite right. What do you think, Albert?”
“It’s delicious.”
Julie passed her plate over.
Mom bit off the reindeer’s head, and her eyes opened wide. “This is even better.” She swiped one of the reindeer’s legs through the buttercream. “Tasty snow, too.”
“I agree.” Dad had a bite of the snowball.
They started whispering. Presumably, they were conferring about the winner.
“Okay, we have come to a decision,” Mom said.
Julie felt like she ought to hold hands with Tom for this announcement, so she clasped his hand and found it strangely comforting.
“The winner is Team Two, Julie and Tom!” Dad clapped.
Julie looked at Tom, and he gave her a small smile.
We did it!
When she’d met him more than a month ago, she never would have imagined she and Tom would be able to spend two and a half hours in the kitchen without killing each other, let alone win a competition.
“Do we get a trophy?” Julie asked.
“There will be a prize later,” Mom said, “but this is only the first of three challenges.”
“The first of three challenges?”