Chapter 25
LACEY
Walker drew us a bath after my meltdown in the kitchen. Honestly, the entire day felt like one thing after another, and by the time I got to the counter, my cup had completely run dry.
Unsurprisingly, Walker knew exactly what I needed—kisses and touches, both tender and sweet, that made me feel cherished.
Loved.
I could brush the latter feeling off as a product of how long we’ve known each other, but that would be a mistake. Because our time together has been perfect, like something straight out of a movie.
Is it because we said it’s temporary or is this the kind of connection that can last?
I don’t know and I’m not sure I want to.
I don’t want to ruin what we have.
Swallowing hard, I slip my sweater over my head, careful not to smudge the light coating of makeup I put on this morning.
It’s Christmas Eve after all.
Checking my reflection one last time, I leave the bathroom and head downstairs. Christmas music plays softly from the kitchen, the smell of waffles and bacon permeating the air as Walker hands me a cup of coffee, the perfect shade of tan.
Meeting my gaze, he gives me a self-satisfied look. “It should be right. Go ahead, take a sip.”
“Awfully confident this morning,” I say wryly because not even the email requesting I report on the twenty-seventh can ruin my day. I haven’t even accepted the job yet.
“I know what you like,” he fires back, pointing the spatula at me.
Bringing the cup to my nose, I inhale the rich aroma and take a drink.
It’s perfect, and the smile spreading over his face says he knows it.
“You did a good job.”
He gloats and places a plate piled high with food in front of me before placing a second at the stool next to mine and turning off the stove.
“Can you grab the whipped cream from the fridge?”
“Is this just for the waffles?” I taunt, shaking the can from side to side as I saunter back toward him.
“It can be for anything you like but I was thinking,” he tells me, shoving a big bite of waffle into his mouth before continuing, “we’d frost the cookies today.”
“Festive.”
“And I plan on licking it off you.”
“No objections here.”
“Didn’t think so.” He winks and then we’re quiet for a minute, both of us eating as the music plays and a fire roars in the living room. It’s cozy and exactly what today should be like.
“We should watch a movie.”
“Nothing from that channel that has all the same plotlines.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Your brother likes them,” Walker points out and I can’t hold back my laugh. “Do you remember when he went to that casting call in Chicago? The producers needed extras, and now every time it plays he makes me watch it.”
“He pauses it to take a picture of himself and texts it to me, so I feel your pain.”
“He’s exhausting.”
“But so damn lovable.”
Walker shakes his head. “You’re not wrong.”
“And don’t you forget it.”