17. Giddy Up Jingle Horse
Giddy Up Jingle Horse
“ P ick up your feet!” I spun Elara, and she squealed as I sang off-key and danced like an escaped lunatic loose from the institution. “Jingle around the clock!” I shook my ass and twirled, doing my best pregnancy twerk. “ Mix and a-mingle in the—” I slammed into a broad chest and my smile fell. “You.”
“Am I interrupting?”
I disentangled myself from Xander’s arms and protectively held Elara like a shield, backstepping until I stood next to Hale. The Christmas music continued to play from my mom’s phone on the counter.
Hale draped an arm over my shoulder protectively. “Did you need something, Xander? ”
His gaze dropped to Hale’s apron, and he chuckled. He crossed the room and dropped a load of dirty money on the table. “I won the last hand. I think that about covers your portion.”
“I walked away from the tournament. My portion’s forfeited. It’s all yours.”
Xander shook his head. “I don’t play that way. I prefer to see things through. That way everyone’s clear on the score.”
Oh great, more gambling references.
I checked Elara’s diaper. The one time I need there to be a poop, there wasn’t one. “Let’s take a potty break, Peanut.”
I excused myself with a tight-lipped smile. No clue how Hale tolerated that guy.
Potty training was intense. But it was probably way more messy with a boy. If the bean turned out to be a son, Hale would tackle that one.
“All done.”
I helped her pull up her pants and turned the faucet on so she could clean up. “Mommy’s turn.” While she rinsed her hands—something Hale’s child mastered right away—I tinkled. No matter how often I peed, my bladder seemed to always stay full.
“All done. ”
“Elara, no, leave the door closed!”
She jiggled the primitive knob and the door opened. Old houses didn’t have dependable locks.
“Shit!” I was mid-stream and couldn’t reach the door. “You’re supposed to be studying my form, brat. You could at least shut the door.”
“Shit!” She left me there—ass out, scrambling for toilet paper as she went to find her father.
“Turncoat!” I quickly yanked up my pants, washed my hands, and went after her.
“Where are you rushing off to, Rayne?”
I halted and frowned at Seraphina, who looked…tousled.
Oh, God. I sure hoped she didn’t do the nasty with Captain Stubing. He was part of the drunk debauchery in the parlor.
“Elara’s on the run.” I looked her up and down. “Where have you been?”
She drew back. “What’s that look?”
“Were you with that guy?” I whispered, just wanting to get to the tea.
She laughed. “Yes, but nothing happened. Carlisle’s an old friend of Daddy’s.”
Old was the key word. “So, you’ re not into him?”
“God no!” She laughed again. “I have my eyes on someone else.”
“Really?” This I needed to hear. “Who?”
She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “He’s actually here today. Have you met Alexander Landry?”
My curiosity morphed into disappointment. “Oh. Him. Yeah.”
“He’s so hot. Those dark eyes and that tanned skin.” She blew out a breath. “The things I could do to that man.”
“He’s sort of an odd duck.”
“The good ones always are.”
“And I think he might have a gambling problem.”
“Well, with his net worth, he can afford to.”
I forced a fake smile and decided to leave it alone. Plenty of people probably thought I was an odd choice when Hale picked me. “Well, he was in the kitchen if you’re looking for him.” Maybe she could drag him out of there.
She frowned. “Xander was?”
“Yeah. We were making a pie and—What are you doing?” I was shoved back into the powder room as Seraphina shut the door .
“It’s Barrett and McKinsley.” She cracked the door and spied on the couple.
“So why are we hiding in the bathroom?” I whispered.
“Because I think he’s trying to dump her on someone so he can hang with the guys. I’m not getting wrapped up in babysitting unless it’s for Elara.”
The couple chatted as they passed the powder room. Well, McKinsley chatted. Barrett seemed to be ignoring her.
“I don’t know why he does this,” Phina hissed. “Every holiday he brings some bimbo to shield himself from Daddy. Then he gets tired of her by day two.”
A shield or a security blanket? These Davenport holidays were exhausting. “I’m guessing you don’t like her.”
“Last night she talked to me for twenty-five minutes about cuticle care.”
I had a hard time judging what self-care topics were green-lit and blackballed in Seraphina’s world, so I just nodded like I understood why cuticle care was bad. “I just bite my nails.”
“That’s disgusting, Rayne.”
“Bear,” McKinsley mewled, tugging Barrett’s hand like a child. “Let’s ride into town and see what shops are open.”
“Nothing’s going to be open this late in the day.”
“You don’t know that. I saw a few jewelers on the way in.”
Both Phina and I rolled our eyes.
I sniffed her head. “What kind of shampoo do you use? Your hair smells like a lollipop.”
“It’s custom made. I order it from a boutique in Paris.”
“So, not something I can pick up at Target?”
“No.”
Barrett turned McKinsley’s back to the wall, and they kissed. “Well, that’s one way to shut her up.”
“I’d say.”
“Holy crap.” I knew I shouldn’t be watching but I also couldn’t look away. It was like fresh, red district porn. I glanced at Phina. “How are you not grossed out by this?”
“They’re just kissing.”
No. That was a lot more than a kiss. This was old school, hip gyrating, dry-humping, bump-n-grinding. “Looks French. ”
“He kisses every woman like that.”
McKinsley let out a low, sexual moan.
“That’s it.” I flushed the toilet and turned the faucet on full blast, alerting the couple that someone was in the bathroom. “I’m out of here.”
Barrett sprung away from McKinsley the moment I opened the door. “Meyers.”
“Davenport.” I kept my head down. “I was just…you know.” I left Phina in the bathroom to figure her own way out.
Back in the kitchen, Elara was preoccupied with her father as he took direction from Penny and molded the pie crust onto a beveled pie plate. Xander was still there, standing at Hale’s back, bird-dogging the whole display. They both looked up and smiled when I entered.
Weird.
“Hey.” I said, sidling up to my mother. The air smelled delicious, and the Christmas music was an instant mood-setter. I peeked at what Marta was concocting. “That smells divine, Marta.”
“You will love it, Ni?a. And I make extra so that you can freeze it for home.”
I kissed her sweet head. “Thank you.”
Hugo grimaced. “Too many people. You are all in my way.”
“Hugo,” I said, coming to peek at what he was cooking. “You know, for a guy who literally has the word hug in his name, you’re about as cuddly as a cactus.”
He grumbled something in Dutch.
“A language barrier’s not going to stop us from being friends.”
“Shit!” Elara yelled, and Xander laughed.
I narrowed my eyes because it was a nice laugh, and I had him pegged for a maniacal one. Then I noticed his apron, and I frowned. “What the…?”
“Here you go, boys,” my mother said, carrying the caramel filling to the table. “Layer it slowly so the apples don’t tear the crust.”
“Yes, Mrs. Meyers.”
“Oh, call me Penny.”
“Yes, Penny.”
Well, wasn’t Xander the little ass kisser?
Seraphina walked into the kitchen wearing a fresh face of makeup since the last time I saw her. She’d also applied perfume and fixed her hair.
“Great. More people,” Hugo grumbled, slamming a cast iron pan onto the burner. The man had no problem communicating his feelings.
Seraphina bustled over to the counter and hissed in my ear, “Thanks a lot for abandoning me. I’m going to have to burn out my retinas.”
I snickered. “Your friend’s over there in the apron.”
She looked toward the table and sucked in a breath then frowned. “They’re baking?”
“Hale is. I don’t know how Xander’s involved.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully with one perfectly manicured nail. “Marta, where are the aprons?”
How many Davenports did it take to bake a pie?
As soon as Seraphina had her clothes protected, she joined the men. “How can I help?”
Both Xander and Hale glanced down at her as she intrusively nestled in between them. She smiled up at Xander.
“I think we’ve got it covered, Phina.”
“Nonsense, there’s room for everyone,” my mother chimed in, handing Seraphina a spoon slathered in caramel. “Have a taste.”
They were like three deprived wealthy kids who never had a mommy cook with them before. Didn’t anyone ever give them a beater to lick? Only Elara took issue with the sticky caramel. Everyone else gushed over my grandmother’s recipe—including Marta. Hugo, not so much, but he did swipe a taste and raise an appraising brow that looked like approval.
My mother coached them in the art of layering pie crust lattice and free-handing autumn cutouts with the leftover dough. I smothered several laughs as they worked like middle schoolers trying to impress the teacher. It was charming and sweet in the most magical sense because the Davenports grew up with maids, butlers, and personal chefs, but never spent this sort of quality time with family in the kitchen. And everyone knew, the kitchen prep was actually the best part of the holidays.
I assumed Xander’s upbringing was much the same. None of them were good at what they were doing, but that wasn’t the point. The lattice was crooked. The filling wasn’t level. The cutout leaves looked like chicken feet. The crust was an absolute disaster. But they were having fun.
Everyone took turns singing as the holiday music continued to play, butchering the lyrics they didn’t know. When the kitchen door swung open, and Barrett walked in—a confused expression on his face—his siblings called him over.
Barrett rolled up his sleeves and jumped in. It was really adorable watching them fumble to design the perfect apple pie. Even Xander stepped back, letting the siblings have this moment to themselves. That was the first thing he did that made me actually think he might not be such a bad guy.
He washed his hands at the sink and frowned at his dress shirt. “Well, this shirt’s trash.” His gaze went to Elara’s face, where she rested on my shoulder. “She’s precious.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s amazing that she can sleep through all this.”
“She’s got that work hard, play hard Davenport mentality.”
“I bet.”
I studied him for a moment. “Are you finished your culinary adventures for the day?”
“I think so. Why? Did you need something?”
I swayed to keep Elara settled long enough for me to transport her to a softer place. “No. I was just curious. How much did you win?”
His smile curled slowly as his gaze darkened. “Thirty-two thousand.”
I nearly choked. “In cards?”
“I’m very good.”
“I’m sure you’re a real Rain Man.” Knowing Xander was a betting man, I wondered how much he was willing to risk on a friendly wager. “Think I can sink this in that trash can?” I held up a balled up paper towel.
“One-handed from here?”
“Yup.” I swayed, my other arm practically asleep under Elara’s squishy butt.
He glanced at my feet then to the trash can. “No moving?”
“Nope.”
“Over the island?”
“I won’t even move the vase of flowers out of the way.”
He laughed. “Nah, you can’t make that.”
It was my turn to twist a slow grin. “Wanna bet?”
His brow lifted and I knew I had him. “How much?”
I almost said a hundred bucks, but then I remembered who I was dealing with. “How about a thousand? ”
It was clear I shocked him. “You know, if you miss, you have to pay up.”
“I’m good for it.” Actually, the thought of forking out a thousand smackers made me want to vomit, but I wasn’t backing down at this point. Besides, Hale would be the one cutting that check.
“All right.” He unfolded the wad of money he’d won at cards and counted out ten crisp one hundred dollar bills, laying them out on the island. “Take your best shot.”
I stared down at the money, wondering if this was insane.
“Barrett, your leaves are too big. You’re crowding my corner of the pie!”
“Who said it’s your corner, Phina. You’re hogging it.”
I glanced over my shoulder. As the two younger Davenports bickered, Hale worked meticulously to carefully braid the dough. I smiled, thinking about how nice it would be to spend Xander’s money tomorrow morning at the Black Friday sales.
“It’s interesting to watch you two.”
I glanced back at Xander. “Why?”
He shrugged. “You actually like each other. He watches you when you’re not looking and you do the same to him.”
“He’s my person.” I shifted Elara’s weight in my arm. “And baby needs a more manly apron, so I better make this shot.”
Xander’s gaze dropped to my stomach just as I launched the crumpled paper at the trashcan.
“No way!” he yelled as it swished seamlessly into the bin.
“Ha!” I yelled, startling Elara, but I was too happy to worry about nap time. Swiping up the money, I danced around the island, shaking my ass in a touchdown-worthy victory dance.
“What happened?” Hale asked, suddenly suspicious of his little friend. “Did I miss something?”
“You’re wife’s a hustler. She just won a grand off of me.”
Hale frowned. “You bet a thousand dollars?”
I shrugged. “What, you’re allowed to gamble, but I’m not?”
“No, but for someone willing to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to save forty percent at the Pick-N-Save, a thousand dollars is a lot to lose.”
“First of all, the Pick-N-Save isn’t even around anymore, Hale. We will be hitting respectable retail outlets like Wally World and Tarjay. Second, I’ve been hurling diapers in trashcans since Elara was born. I didn’t plan on losing.”
“You won a thousand dollars by throwing a diaper?”
“Paper towel, but same difference. A little less weight, but I’m also well versed in the wipey toss.” I slapped my wad of winnings against Hale’s chest. “Anyway, my arms are about to fall off, so I’m going to take my winnings and lay Elara down. I’m due for a little pre-dinner nappetizer myself.”
“Here, I can take her,” Hale said and Elara whined when he jostled her out of my arms.
“I’m right behind you, babe.” I shook my numb arm, trying to get the blood to flow into my fingers again, so I could steal a cookie before heading upstairs.
Xander watched Hale leave then smiled at me. What was his deal?
Tired of guessing, I figured I’d just come out and ask. “Do you not have family to eat with today?”
He laughed at my bluntness. “You don’t want me here?”
“No, I?—”
“It’s okay.” He chuckled. “I’m not everybody’s cup of tea. But to answer your question, I don’t spend holidays with family.”
Did he mean he didn’t have family, or that they just weren’t around today? I decided to be a little nicer to him. “Well, then you came to the right place. The Davenports make enough food to feed an army.”
“Damn it, Barrett!” Phina snapped. I looked back at the table just as she smashed whatever Barret was sculpting out of dough. “Now yours is ruined too.”
“Oh, boy,” Xander mumbled. “We’ve got a sibling rivalry.”
Phina growled and gave up on the pie. “I’m done.”
McKinsley entered the kitchen, and Hugo once again grumbled in Dutch about the foot traffic. She immediately started whining in a pitch that would make a basset hound cry. How the hell was Barrett tolerating her?
Maybe he wasn’t, because after about thirty seconds of that needy whining he snapped and told her to wait for him in the other room. That quickly, his entire mood changed as he irritably washed his hands.
“Xander, do you want to get some air?” Phina asked as she removed her apron and fluffed her hair.
“Uh, sure.” He glanced back to me and smiled. “Nice chatting with you… Rayne .”
Right there! That was the look!
As they left the kitchen, my stare crossed with Barrett’s and he frowned. scrunching his nose. “What the hell was that?”
“Did you see it?”
“Yeah, I saw it. Has Hale?”
I scuttled to his side, careful to keep my voice down. “Sort of,” I whispered. “Well, I told him about it. I’m getting such a weird vibe from that guy. I can’t figure him out.”
Barrett looked out the window in the direction Xander had gone with his sister. “Why is he here?”
“Hale invited him after I told him he gave me the ipps!”
“What the fuck are the ipps?”
“You know… not quite the creeps, but something’s a little off.”
“Sure. The ipps. Got it.”
“Barrett!” My shoulders jumped to my ears when McKinsley returned to see what was taking him so long. “I want to go. You said we could leave, like, twenty minutes ago.”
My God, that voice was awful. I hid my mouth behind a cookie and mumbled, “I’ve got some allergy medicine in my bag that causes drowsiness if you want it.”
He laughed.
“I’m serious. It knocks Elara right out when she’s whiny.”
“Are you telling me you drug my niece?”
“I’m telling you she has allergies, and if your girlfriend keeps whining, I’m afraid my milk’s going to come in.”
He looked horrified. “Don’t talk to me about your boob milk, Meyers.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. Boobs serve a higher purpose than entertaining you, Barrett. Grow up.”
“Barrett, I want to go!”
He growled and fished his keys out of his pocket. “Get your coat,” he snapped, ushering her out of the kitchen. I wouldn’t be surprised if he drove her out to the middle of nowhere and left her there.