Chapter 9 Bertie
BERTIE
I’m so, so, so excited! I can’t keep my feet from dancing. My GingerGiant is coming over this afternoon and I can’t wait!
Like every year, we’re closing the bakery at noon, and we’re completely closed tomorrow for a blissful day of Christmas rest and binging Twilight Zone. The big morning rush has finished and the shelves are almost bare, so we might even be able to sneak out a few minutes early.
Orion and I have been texting non-stop for days, planning the menu. Turns out he is quite the gourmet, not that I’m particularly surprised about that, given his exquisite sense of taste.
OMG! I forgot the most important thing! I need to send a quick text to Orion.
“Camila, could you cover the counter for a minute?”
Hi again Orion, please forgive me. I’ve committed an inexcusable faux pas!
I don’t believe that for a second.
But its true!
/it’s
And…?
I forgot to invite Jake!
Really???
Of course! What is Christmas Eve without your best friend? We have a big yard and I have loads of treats.
Thanks. He has accepted your invitation.
Joy! This is the last text. I promise.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
So cheeky! See you soon, handsome.
The minutes drag as we clean up and close down the shop, but finally we’re out on the sidewalk.
I give Camila a quick hug and amble to my car, taking a big holiday-infused breath.
Freedom! I let it soak into me, the cheer and excitement and anticipation.
I feel like a kid again, trying to sleep the night before opening presents.
Our downtown street is done up in holiday splendor, complete with Santa and his reindeer in the center median, and I feel it, feel the magic of the season.
Work is finished and it’s time to celebrate, with my sexy husband, with our best friends, and with two new friends!
“Oooh, what do we have here?” Hideo says, snagging one of my spice cookies, warm off the cookie sheet. Thank the stars it’s his diet-cheat day, so he’ll be eating anything he wants.
“Sweets for the sweet, sweet,” I say, and he has the grace to laugh even though I’ve lost count of the times I’ve said the same thing. “Is Orion here yet?”
“Haven’t seen him, but hopefully soon. Remember, give him his space. He’s going through some stuff.”
“Stop your nagging, you mother hen. My mom raised me better than that. There will be no drama from me, and we’ll go with the flow. But I hope he stays.”
“Me too.”
The doorbell rings at 2:00 on the dot, and there they are on the porch, my GingerGiant and his best friend. I dash out and wrap my arms around his middle. Damn, my head barely reaches to the bottom of his chin. It’s delightful…my first real GingerGiant hug!
After a startled moment, he wraps his big arms down around me, hugging me back.
I break away and say, “I’ve wanted to do that from the first second you entered my bakery. Seedy loaf, two chocolate eclairs, and dog cookies, if I remember correctly.”
His eyes crinkle at that and he laughs behind his mask, saying, “That sounds about right.”
We’re going to have to get him out of that mask. I need some quality face time with that ginger beard, now that we’re not in the busy atmosphere of the bakery. But that can wait. I invite, “Come in, come in. Welcome Jake. Let’s see if there happen to be any cookies with your name on them.”
He seemed okay with the hug, so I don’t hold back, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the kitchen. His big, meaty hand…OMG, everything about this man is gigantic.
“You weren’t kidding!” he laughs, even louder. I made bone-shaped cookies this morning, each with Jake’s name piped in blue frosting, hoping to hear exactly that laugh.
The timer goes off right when he’s saying, “I have a few bags in the car.”
“I’ll help,” Hideo says and takes him by the shoulder. “I’m glad you came.”
The cookies need another minute or two, so I fuss around the counter. Nothing really needs to be done, but I can’t keep my hands still. It’s so good he’s here!
They return with a plate and a bag.
“These are gorgeous,” I gush. Deviled eggs, carefully arranged on the plate, but they’re unique, with dark purple edges. “Are they as tasty as they look?”
“You tell me,” he says, peeling back the corner of the plastic. I sneak one out, and it’s true. The filling is bursting with flavors—Dijon mustard, horseradish, vinegar, and…and…
“Sumac?” I guess.
“Spot on!” he confirms. “And they’re pickled in beet juice. Um, there’s something I want to…”
“Yes, Hidie-ho mentioned we have something to discuss, but let’s get Jake settled first.”
I lead them out the back door, and Jake bursts into the yard.
“There’s some water out here, and I scrounged up some tennis balls and an old frisbee from the closet…”
“Really,” Orion says, “I need to do this before I chicken out.”
“Sorry, I get carried away.” I can’t seem to stay still—my feet continue to bounce, and I literally have to force myself not to give him another hug.
“Could you sit down?”
This instantly quiets my happy feet. Now I’m getting worried. I know it’s something serious, but I didn’t realize it was sitting-down serious.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping my hands on my apron. “Of course.”
I pull over one of the deck chairs and sit, giving him my full attention.
“This can be startling,” he says, pulling another chair over in front of me. “I’ll understand if you’re, um, startled.”
I have no idea what to expect, but I steel myself for the worst. Gods, I hope he’s okay.
He pulls off his mask and his beautiful beard shines like copper in the sunlight. It may be a good thing I’m sitting because I feel a swoon coming on.
Then his beard starts to move. All by itself. I lean forward for a better look.
His beard lengthens and waves in the sun. His sexy handlebar straightens and then wraps back into waxed curls.
“How are you doing that?” I really don’t know. “It’s beautiful.”
“Look closer,” Hideo suggests quietly, watching the whole thing.
I hop out of the chair and move in close. His chin is covered with little tentacles, furry ginger tentacles! They’re mesmerizing, never stopping, making his entire beard glitter in the sun.
I have to ask. It’s too amazing not to ask. “Please? Can I touch them?”
Orion and Hideo both give a big laugh at this. Did I say something wrong? I promised to be on my best behavior, but seriously, how can I not?
“Sorry, BertieBear,” Hideo says. “I won my bet. I told him that would be the first thing you’d say.”
“I suppose I should be offended,” I huff. “But really, can I?”
“If you’d like,” Orion says, looking confused.
“Yes, please,” I say, and jump in before he can say no.
It’s too wonderful—I may just explode with the experience of it.
I fully admit I’m a fanatical pogonophile, always have been.
Hideo’s dense black goatee always sends me right over the edge and back again…
but this is different. Orion’s beard is alive with motion.
I don’t hold back. I move in close and weave my hands all the way in, feeling all that fur slide along my fingers, wrapping and squeezing and dancing and tickling along my wrists…
“I’m sorry…I need to sit down,” I say, completely overwhelmed and feeling my legs wobble. It’s too much, too amazingly stupendous, and I don’t know how I’m going to encompass it.
Orion’s face falls with disappointment. Did I do something to cause that?
Hideo takes Orion’s shoulder, saying, “Pull your chair over. Go sit next to him. You just gave him the Christmas present of his life, and he’s trying to catch up.”
I stammer out, “What Hidie said. Yes. Can I?”
My husband always knows best, and soon I’m safely seated right next to Orion and stroking his soft fur.
Orion is still hesitating, keeping some distance, but I can’t stop, really I can’t.
His long tentacles stretch and lengthen under my touch and I have to laugh when one of the little ones on his lip curls around my pinkie.
It can’t be true, but it is, right here, in my hands.
“Mmmm,” Orion says, closing his eyes and finally letting himself enjoy the attention. “Spice cookies.”
“They do smell good, don’t they? It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”
“Cinnamon, of course,” Orion says as several more of the little tentacles dance around my fingers. It’s tickly and unexpected and so damn wonderful. “Clove, ginger, molasses, and nutmeg.”
“Just a hint of nutmeg. It’s not in the recipe, but I always add some. All that from the smell?”
“His tentacula are sensitive to taste,” Hideo says.
“No way!” It bursts out of my mouth before I can hold it in. Rude, I know, but…
Orion says, giving me an adorable shy smile, “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“OMG!” I exclaim. “This explains so much. Why didn’t you tell me years ago? There’s so much we could have been sharing.”
“Well, you can share now,” Hideo says, always the diplomat. “Let’s go inside and make some culinary magic.”