Page 45 of Christmas in Quincy (The Edens 0.50)

Cleo

Two years later . . .

“That is not what we agreed on, Austin.”

“Yes, it is.” He had his hands on his hips as he stood across from me in the bakery’s kitchen.

“No, it isn’t.” I bounced our son on my hip and took a calming breath. “You said chocolate.”

“I said vanilla.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did, baby. I said vanilla.”

He took one of my chocolate cupcakes from the box and swiped his finger through the frosting. A slow grin spread across his face as he licked it off. “But I’ll take these to the office. The guys will eat them.”

“You lying—” I stretched for the rag on the counter, ready to throw it at his face, but Austin was faster. He snatched it away before I could nab it.

Shaun cooed before shoving his fist into his mouth, coating his knuckles with drool.

I marched to the fridge and flung the door open, taking out one of his teething rings. He wasn’t teething yet, but he loved to put things in his mouth and I preferred the sanitized toys to his chubby fingers. I handed it to him and dried off his fist.

While I took care of our son, Austin inhaled a cupcake, one I’d made specifically for his mother.

She was working on Christmas Day and Austin had wanted to bring her something sweet tonight. Sweet was where I shined so I’d promised to take care of it with a half dozen chocolate cupcakes, minus sprinkles or filling. That’s what he’d asked for, something I recalled with clarity because those were his favorite cupcakes. I should have known he’d been up to something to score extra cupcakes. We’d been so busy preparing for the holidays, I hadn’t brought any of his favorites home for the past two weeks.

The door to the kitchen opened and Brynne breezed in. “Phew. I just flipped the sign and locked the door.”

“Thank you.” I gave her a smile. “Today was crazy.”

The Christmas Eve rush we’d expected had kept us busy all day. We’d nearly run out of everything in the display case, though luckily, there were plenty of vanilla cupcakes out there for me to steal for Austin’s mom. My husband would hoard the chocolate for himself because there was no way he’d share those with his team. The man would run an extra two miles every day this week just to eat all six cupcakes.

“Would you mind putting together a box of six vanilla before you go home?” I asked Brynne.

“Not at all.” She came closer and tickled Shaun’s foot.

I could get the cupcakes myself, but I didn’t want to let Shaun go yet. He’d been home with Austin all day while I’d been at work and I’d missed him.

At three months old, Shaun was already a miniature version of Austin. They had the same dark hair and coffee-brown eyes. Shaun’s nose looked more like mine, but he was little and who knew how he’d change as he grew.

“How was he today?” I asked Austin.

“Good.” He licked the last bit of frosting from his thumb, then threw the cupcake wrapper in the trash. “We didn’t do much. He played in his Jumperoo while I did a workout. Then we took a nap. He’s kind of been fussy today and his nose is runny. Maybe he’s getting a cold.”

“Poor baby.” I kissed the top of his head. “Let’s use it as an excuse to duck out of the party early.”

“Fine by me.”

We were going to my father’s house tonight for his annual Christmas Eve celebration. The last thing I wanted to do was get dressed up after being at the bakery since four, but Dad had begged for us to come.

Austin’s mom was coming to our house to spend the evening babysitting Shaun, then tomorrow, we were having a quiet Christmas morning at our house before everyone came over for dinner to celebrate the baby’s first Christmas.

The only thing I was looking forward to tonight was seeing Austin in a suit. The man was gorgeous in whatever he wore, but in his black suit, I’d struggle to keep my hands off him until we were home.

It had been the same on our wedding day. We’d had a quickie on the drive from the church to the reception in the back of our limo, hidden by the privacy screen from the driver, because I hadn’t been able to resist.

We’d gotten married last year, a week before Christmas. The ceremony had been simple and elegant. My stepmother had, of course, wanted an extravagant party, but we’d kept the ceremony and reception small. Then we’d escaped all the holiday madness because Austin had whisked me away to Quincy for our honeymoon. We’d asked to stay in the same room and had ordered room service for five days straight, rarely leaving the bed.