Page 23 of One More Yule Log

He hated that he couldn’t help more, but he had an empire to run.

“I’ll call you.”

“Daddy, can I have a cupcake?”

“Um. Who brought them?” One of the ladies used artificial sweetener that gave Liv a terrible upset tummy.

“Miss Bonnie.”

“Oh, honey. Let’s get one at the store…” He didn’t need a puking tween.

“I have twenty flavors left at the shop from today,” Gray said. He would make a great partner, just backing Ben up.

“Daddy, can we do that?”

“If it’s okay with Mr. Gray.”

“Works for me. I could totally use some dessert.”

Whew. She was happy with that, and the crisis was averted. When she left, he grimaced. “Miss Bonnie uses maltitol.”

“Ah.” Gray shook his head. “Boom.”

“Yes. Oh my God.” He closed his eyes for a second. “Damn.”

The others chuckled, but it was a nervous sound, and before long, he and Gray were alone, the others going to fend off cupcake disaster.

“It’s like a whole microcosm here,” Gray murmured.

“It is. They’re good women. They were good to me when Dale died.”

“I like them.” Gray held up a pile of business cards. “Cookies. I might have to hire Olivia.”

“They have more money than time, you know?”

“Sure. I love cookie orders. They’re so easy compared to a lot of what we do. And they make kids so happy. I even do kits, you know? Blank cookies, frosting and sprinkles in jars.”

“Oh, that’s clever as all get-out.” Gray was a smart son of a bitch.

“People want to spend more time together and less time baking.” Gray chuckled, then speared a meatball. “So good.”

“I missed making cookies with her last year. I intend to do it this year.”

“Good deal. She really wants to make you happy and proud.” Gray leaned over to touch his hand again, every spontaneous touch thrilling him.

“She always does. Always. I didn’t know how lucky I was, to be able to stay at home with her.”

“Well, maybe you can find a little balance soon.” Gray squeezed his fingers. “Was I out of line? Saying we’re dating? It was kinda instinctive.”

“It made me feel twenty feet tall.” Surely that meant something.

“Oh, good.” Gray let out a gusty sigh. “I want it to be true.”

“We should try an official one, maybe.” He would so take Gray out to supper.

“I would love that.” Gray glanced at Liv, who was ballerina twirling. “Not that I don’t like group outings.”

“No. Family outings are fabulous, but grown-up time is important.” He knew this for a fact.