Chapter 5 Shortcake Strokes
SHORTCAKE STROKES
CHRISTMAS EVE
“I need a little more frosting. It would be perfect.” I grab a spoonful of frosting and spread it across the cinnamon rolls.
I have been working on my Grandma’s ‘Steal a Man’ red velvet homemade cinnamon rolls for the last hour. Every Christmas, I make them the same way she taught me. With a whole lot of love and sweat. Only this time, I swapped the white frosting for red. Holiday spirit and all.
I miss her so much. When she passed six years ago, it felt like she took the holiday spirit with her. I have been trying to keep it alive ever since, at least by sharing the joy.
Finishing the last roll, I glance at the clock on the kitchen door.
3 pm.
Perfect time for a Christmas movie marathon before bed.
I have not heard a peep from Heaven in over an hour. She has been locked away in her room. She never gave me a real reason why she is alone for the holidays. Maybe I should check on her. Or maybe I should mind my business.
Then again, she could have kicked me out but did not. A cinnamon roll and a movie invite feels like a decent thank you.
Placing one roll on a plate, I head upstairs. I do not need directions. The fingerprint-scanned door screams Heaven. Very private.
As I reach her hallway, I hear faint music from behind the door. I hesitate for a second before knocking, then step back.
No answer.
I raise my hand to knock again just as the door swings open. My fist freezes midair, level with her chest.
She is wearing a white tee and gray sweatpants with no bra. Nipples on full display. I try not to stare, but I definitely notice.
I shake my head and smile. “Do you want—”
“Alexa, turn the music down,” she cuts in.
“Music down,” Alexa replies.
Heaven looks down at me. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah,” I say, holding out the plate. “I wanted to see if you would like a cinnamon roll. It is homemade.”
“Uh.” She glances at the roll, then back up at me. “Nah, I am good. Thanks though.”
She starts to close the door.
“Oh, and I was planning to watch some movies downstairs,” I add quickly. “There is pizza in the oven. If you want to get out of your cave, you are more than welcome.”
Her lips twitch slightly, like she is trying not to smile. “I do not.”
Before she can finish, a loud whump rattles the house. The wind slams against the windows, the lights flicker once, twice, then everything goes dark.
“God damn it,” Heaven mutters, already moving.
She grabs her phone, the flashlight slicing through the dark as she heads for the hallway. I follow close behind, my own beam bouncing off the walls as we make our way toward the basement.
“What happened?” I ask, nearly tripping down the last step.
“I think someone hit the power line or something,” she says, walking fast. “I need to find the generator.”
“Are we supposed to only use that for the lights?”
She shoots me a look over her shoulder. “Do you want to sleep in the dark or…”
I huff. “I was just asking a question.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” she says dryly, crouching to open a metal closet door.
The smell of dust and cold air hits my nose as she flips a lever. The generator groans, then hums to life, and the light above us flickers weakly.
“Okay,” she says, standing and brushing her hands on her sweatpants. “Generator works. The problem is we cannot turn it on for the full house. We need to save power.”
“How much do we have?” I ask, squinting at the little screen she is studying.
She sighs. “Sixty percent. That is enough to keep the kitchen, living room, and downstairs bedroom going for a while. No Christmas light shows or heated bubble baths, got it?”
I grin. “Damn. There goes my Friday night plan.”
“Tragic,” she mutters, but there is the faintest twitch of a smile.
We head back upstairs, the air colder and quieter now. Every shadow stretches longer without the full power on. When we reach the living room, I walk straight to the window and press my hand against the glass.
“I cannot see anything.” Outside, it is pitch black, the snow swirling so thick. “It is so dark out there.”
“Yeah,” Heaven says, scrolling through her phone. The blue light glows across her face as she types. “The neighborhood group chat.” After a second, she groans. “Everyone’s lights are out. Whole block.” She rolls her eyes and sinks onto the couch. “Perfect. Merry freakin Christmas.”
I smile despite myself, clutching the plate with the cinnamon roll. “Could be worse.”
She looks up, one brow arched. “Oh yeah? How?”
I shrug. “We could have lost power before the cinnamon rolls.”
Her lips curve slightly. “God forbid we go without something sweet while we are sitting in complete darkness.”
“And you are welcome,” I say, taking a seat across from her and biting into the roll.
A moan escapes me before I can stop it. The frosting melts perfectly against the warm dough. Comfort, nostalgia, and sugar all in one bite. I have made this recipe a hundred times and it still hits every single time.
Heaven clears her throat.
My eyes fly open. She is staring at me, her gaze sharp and amused.
“What?” I ask, still chewing.
“I thought you were giving that to me.”
“Oh.” I swallow quickly. “You said no. Why would I waste it? There is more in the kitchen if you want one.”
She shakes her head, lips twitching. “Unbelievable.”
I grin and take another bite, grabbing the remote to turn on the TV. Heaven said the living room had power, so there was no reason to let it go to waste.
The opening credits for This Christmas fill the screen.
Heaven returns to the living room and sits on the same couch as me, close enough that her scent, warm and woodsy like sweet oak, wraps around the space between us.
“Do you have to sit so close?” I move over a little.
“Why? Do I make you nervous?” She raises her eyebrows.
“No, but it is called personal space.”
She grins and moves slightly to the opposite end of the couch.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Anytime.” She laughs softly.
I keep my eyes on the TV, pretending her presence does not make me all hot and bothered. Pretending I do not see how she is licking the red frosting off her lips.
“This is good as hell,” she says finally. “You said this was homemade?”
“Yeah,” I reply, still focused on the screen.
She smacks her lips. “What do you do for work besides drawing?”
“Are you going to talk during the whole movie?”
“I think I have every right to ask questions. You are a stranger in my place of living.”
“Your brother’s place of living,” I correct her. “And I do odd jobs like house-sitting for rich people and babysitting their little sisters.”
“You are not watching me. I am watching you. I have to make sure nothing gets stolen.”
“Whatever. Eat your cinnamon roll.” I turn back to the TV.
A beat passes.
“I have not watched this movie in forever.”
“It is one of my favorites,” I say softly.
“Mine too.”
And just like that, the silence feels different. Comfortable, not awkward. We end up watching two full movies like that. No talking. A few laughs. Just peaceful.
Every once in a while, I glance over to see if she is still watching, and she is, her eyes soft in the flickering light. For the first time in a long time, I do not feel the need to explain myself or adjust who I am. I do not feel shamed for liking a little joy.
When the movie ends, I press the button to turn off the TV. The room dims again, lit only by the faint glow from the generator. I stand, stretching a little, ready to head toward the bedroom.
“You do not want to watch another movie?” Heaven asks softly.
I turn to her. Her voice is not teasing this time. It is almost hopeful.
“Um, I think I am going to go to the room. Maybe freshen up a bit.” I gesture toward myself. “I have not taken a shower yet and I feel gross sitting around in these clothes.”
“I was not going to say anything. Iris will kill me for letting you wear your outside clothes on her furniture.” She makes a disgusted face.
I laugh and throw a pillow at her. “Whatever.”
She catches it immediately.
“What are you going to do after that?” she asks, still laughing.
“You mean after my shower? I do not know. Maybe add some candy canes to the Christmas tree.”
She looks at the massive Christmas tree nearby, already decorated. She shakes her head.
“What?” I laugh.
“You just do not stop. The tree looks complete to me.”
“I know, but I found a box of candy canes in the kitchen. I thought they forgot to put them on the tree.”
She smirks.
“No. They use those for hot cocoa. Not for the tree.”
“Oh.” Heat rushes to my face.
“Do you want to make some cocoa, Sutton?”
“I need to shower first.”
“I can wait.” She licks her lips. “Or do you need some assistance?”
Oh, she is flirting. And it is working on me.
We both get up from the couch. Once again, I am reminded of Heaven’s height.
“What are you going to do in the meantime?” I ask.
“That depends on your answer to my previous question.”
Oh, she was serious. I open my mouth to say something but close it quickly.
I do not want to ruin my chances of getting my money.
But then again, we will be basically strangers the day after this.
The temptation is there. So is the way my pussy is melting at the idea of her full lips on every inch of me.
“Unless you want to watch me clean myself.”
“I would not mind watching.”
I smile slightly. Without saying a word, I turn to the bedroom. This is my last Christmas. Why not fuck my boss’s sister?
Heading to the bathroom, I turn on the knobs to the shower. I do not know if she will take my offer, but if she was serious, this will let me know. Just by looking at her, I know she is a great eater. It would be worth it.
Stepping into the shower, I let my body relax.