Chapter Nine
Balfour
“We won!” Kendrick screeched in my ear, jumping up and down. He launched himself towards me, and I automatically caught him, swinging him around in a circle. “We won! We won!” He chanted, grinning from ear to ear.
“We did!” I was just as excited as he was. I’d been nervously chewing on my thumb nail, pacing, as the judges had gone from display to display. Looking at them from all sides, pointing out the tiniest flaws, then tasting them.
Oddly enough, Keegan had elf Sherman from the inn fill in for Diana this year, along with Harry from the restaurant, and surprisingly, one of the Tooth Fairies’ bodyguards. Apparently, the man’s family ran a bakery and he had volunteered on short notice.
I had watched, anxiety swirling in my chest, as the judges had gone back and forth between mine and another display, for what had seemed like hours.
Kendrick had baked the gingerbread, using some recipe he had in his head, and I had assembled the structures and done all the decorating.
A small depiction of the village, complete with an isomalt skating rink, fondant penguins that skated in a circle thanks to some mechanics, as well as the workshop and the reindeer and sleigh barn.
It had taken every free hour we had and then some. My hands still ached from all the piping and intricate detailed work.
When they had announced we’d won, it had been worth all the lost sleep and cramped hands.
“Truly a magnificent piece,” Diana congratulated me, watching as Harry handed me the blue ribbon. “Congratulations.”
“I can’t believe you made this,” Nik told me, bending down and peering at my work. “It’s amazing.”
“We should go celebrate!” Keegan announced, Kieran perched on his hip.
“Pizza!” Kacey jumped up and down excitedly, swinging her arms and nearly taking out our gingerbread village before Nik caught her flying hands.
Kendrick leaned his lithe body into mine, his arm sliding around my waist. “I’m always down for pizza.”
“I should really go back to–”
Nik pointed a finger at me. “Do not say you need to go back to work. The workshop is fine. Everything is ready for Christmas Eve. We’re getting pizza.”
“This is something to celebrate, Balfour,” Pops clapped me on my shoulder. “I’m so very proud of you. This is just spectacular.”
“Kendrick helped,” I told him proudly. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”
“Hmmm,” Diana smiled then teased, “Did you steal my recipe?”
“Not yours, entirely,” Kendrick defended. “I added my own secret spices, and I’m not telling you what they are.”
Hours later, full of pizza and good cheer, we made our way back to my cottage. Kendrick clutched the blue ribbon in his hand, fingering the silky material. We had sat close all night, looking cozy and very much the loving couple to anyone observing us.
His hand had rested on my thigh during dinner, my arm slung casually over his shoulders.
It had all felt natural, normal, and right.
I was starting to feel things for Kendrick that went beyond friendship. I had been since Thanksgiving and our first kiss.
He meant something to me.
It scared me. Because I didn’t know if he felt the same, or he was just playing a part, or he was just caught up in it all.
After finishing in the bathroom, I found him in the hallway, just outside my bedroom door.
He leaned against the wall, his eyes big as he stared at me.
I could smell his slick, the spicy scent of his desire, and I knew, without a doubt, if I wanted to I could have all of him tonight.
Staring down at him, our bodies so close I could feel the heat of his skin, I brushed a lock of bright red hair from his forehead with my finger. He shivered, and I knew it wasn’t from the cold.
Bending down, I placed a kiss on his forehead and whispered good night. Moving away from him, not looking back, I settled myself on my couch.
I wanted Kendrick, with everything in me, and my rock hard cock was a testament to that. But if we took that next step, our friendship might never be the same. And if it didn’t work out between us, which was a very real possibility, where did that leave us?
Kendrick
Past…
Me: Parent-teacher conferences are exhausting.
Grumpy Elf: They are six-year-olds. What is there to even discuss?
Me: Lots of things. Their reading skills, how they act with other kids, all kinds of stuff.
Grumpy Elf: Huh. I guess.
Me: I missed dinner and now I want to eat the entire left side of the McDonalds’ menu.
Grumpy Elf: I’m not judging. Do what makes you happy.
Me: I want ice cream, and I swear to all things holy if they tell me their machine is broken I’m going to come unglued. Not today, Satan.
Grumpy Elf: Try to eat something besides ice cream. Maybe toss in some fries.
Me: The GD ice cream machine is broken! I swear it’s been broken for two years straight. Can’t you fix it? Or have Nik fix it? That’s my wish for Christmas this year. That’s all I want. The McD’s ice cream machine to be fixed.
Grumpy Elf: I’m making no promises.