Christmas Treats - A Collection of Holiday Rom-coms

by Piper Rayne

  He might drive me crazy, but his intentions were sweet and pure. I couldn’t say the same for my one past relationship, and that was why I would let this go, and we’d start fresh in the morning.

  Evan wouldn’t let me sulk forever, and since I knew he texted Hunter last night, leaving his phone on the dresser where I could clearly see the message, I knew it was only a matter of time before Carmen was solicited to help me in the kitchen.

  9

  Evan

  I’d been officially kicked out of the house for the afternoon. Something about needing girl time and less penis in the house followed by her leaving a basket of laundry for me to fold on my own. I took that as a husbandly clue.

  That was partially how I ended up at Chase’s house, holding onto a sink while Chase was underneath with a wrench and questionable skills. I kind of wanted to drop it on him, and I was pretty sure he knew that by the way his hand kept reaching up to make sure it hadn’t slipped from mine.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t call anyone?” I said, pretending to juggle the sink.

  “Like who, numbnuts?” Chase growled, wrenching a pipe loose.

  “Oh, I don’t know? A professional, maybe.”

  He snorted and then used his best Darth voice. “Your lack of faith in me is disturbing.”

  I scoffed. “Says the guy who expresses anal glands for a living.” He loved when any one of us brought up the crappy parts of his job as a veterinarian.

  “You have no idea how important that is to animal health,” he said dryly as the front door opened and shut, interrupting us.

  “Or you just like dog ass.” Damien Hart, one of my least favorite people, but master plumber, strolled in with his tool bag and swagger.

  Chase sat up and yelled after bumping his head.

  “Who called you?” he snapped.

  Damien drawled, “More like who doesn’t call me.”

  “The girls.” I rolled my eyes. Remi was definitely in cahoots with Winnie and her besties to get back at us chumps by calling Hunter and Damien to help with the sink repair. “Speaking of, where’s Hunter?” I looked around for the elder of the two.

  “Oh, Hunt is out there parking the van. He’s super anal about the sidewalk you have out there. Might find him pouring concrete before the day is out.” Damien shrugged, dropping his tools to the floor.

  “Hmm.” I figured Hunter would find something to fix or tinker with if he got banished here with the rest of us.

  “All right, Doc, get out from under there before you hurt yourself. Preacher boy and I got this.” Damien gave Chase’s leg a light kick before he crawled out from under the sink, looking pissed. His head also looked like it was going to swell into a nice goose egg if we didn’t put some ice on it.

  I slapped Chase on the back. “Sit down at the counter and put something on your head before the girls get back and think we beat you up.”

  Hunter came into the house and put down his tool box. “You know that sidewalk out there could use some—”

  We didn’t even let the poor guy finish.

  “You going to Home Depot or am I?” Damien called from under the sink. They grunted in unison.

  “I’ll do it.” Hunter left again and that was that. Looked like Chase was getting a new sink and sidewalk whether he liked it or not.

  “So tell me about this d-bag teacher the girls had to deal with and how you got your holier-than-thou ass kicked out of class,” Damien snarked while he tinkered with the sink connection.

  Of course, nothing was sacred in our group, and Chase grinned like one of his puppy patients getting a treat.

  “Well, this dude-bro got a little too friendly with Winnie and Remi. So I signed us up for class, until this prick”—I pointed at Chase—“decided to get that stomach virus going around and bail on me.”

  Damien chuckled. “But you got kicked out of class. The goody-two-shoes cop. Son of a preacher man. Who even does that?”

  “You going to let me finish this story or would you like to tell it, Demon?” I snapped.

  “Nah, I’m good. I’ll probably leave some key points out so pray tell, please continue.” Damien waved at me from under the sink, and I gritted my teeth, holding it up as he fitted the pipe into place and wrenched it back together.

  “He made Remi feel uncomfortable so I may have told him what he could do with his turkey baster and a few other kitchen tools.”

  “Ouch.” Chase grimaced, holding up the bag of frozen vegetables he’d been holding up to his head when I gave him a dirty look.

  “Anyway, he didn’t like it and asked us to leave. Remi was mad.” I felt bad now that I’d retold the story. No wonder she thought I was an idiot.

  Damien huffed. “That’s unusual. Nothing ruffles her feathers.”

  “I know.”

  “Except you being a dick.” He chuckled and wrenched the pipe again. This guy lived to make my life difficult.

  I rolled my eyes and reminded him, “I like your wife. How about you don’t provoke me to drop this sink on your face, buddy.” That was the worst I could come up with. I did like Kristen, not romantically, but I knew it would irk Damien because we did have history.

  “Police brutality, I swear.” Damien grumbled.

  “Criminal activity, I’m sure.” I grumbled right back. We were at a stalemate and that was fine. He had my back when Remi’s ex came sniffing around, and for that I would be forever grateful, but even I had a limit dealing with Damien Hart’s level of snark. I still had a ticket in my book I could issue him if he pressed things any further, but I did what I could to maintain the peace for Kristen’s sake and because Remi would be the first one to tell me to let it go.

  “All right, you two, give it up.” Chase hopped off the bar stool and walked around the counter to check on our work.

  “How the heck does a fork get caught in the grinder?” Damien pulled out the offending object, holding it up for view.

  “Winnie.” We all said together before laughing.

  Damien sighed handing the fork to Chase. “Might want to frame that shit. It looks like that nouveau abstract art stuff.” He mumbled.

  Poor girl wouldn’t live this one down, and we all knew it was an innocent accident. Or at least that was the story we were sticking with out of deference to her feelings. Like my Remington, I could tell Winnie was trying. Cooking just wasn’t her thing and that was okay. Neither of us guys cared about gender roles and who did what in the house. We were all working together as a team and saw they were trying. I just crossed my fingers I might be luckier than Chase.

  “So when do they expect you back?” Damien continued tinkering under the sink.

  “Later.”

  My phone dinged with a text from the Mrs., and I juggled the sink in my hands so I could view the screen once I pulled it out of my back pocket.

  “Hey, Romeo, careful with that thing.” Damien poked my leg with his wrench.

  “Pfft, I got it.” I ignored Damien and read her message, unable to stop the smile on my face.” Remi asked me to pick her up some mangoes, orange juice, and more bacon. It was an odd request, but I was happy she was back to asking me for little things. I’d make sure I grabbed them before going home and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

  “Let’s barbeque, then. Hunter just got this amazing grill, and he won’t let me play with it. He said I had to buy my own and since I know Kristen got me one for Christmas, I have to pretend I don’t know.”

  “How do you know?” I asked, curious about this facet of Damien I’d never seen before. I always pegged him as a mouthy inconsiderate jerk, which he was most of the time, but in these small strange moments regarding Kristen, he mellowed and was more apt to do the right thing. I had to admire him for that even if I didn’t understand why he continued to let people think he wasn’t smart. If anything, I was pretty sure Damien hid that part of himself on purpose.

  He sighed and explained. “Because I opened the credit card statement. I had to call them and ask them
to send another one so she wouldn’t know I opened this one. Man, you should have seen her panic when the bill didn’t come on time. I had to have them rush it overnight and then act like we’d never gotten it. Way too much stress over a grill, I swear.”

  “No kidding. Maybe next time don’t open your wife’s mail, idiot.” Chase said, but I had to admit it was funny and clever.

  “Tell me more about this grill.”

  “It has a smoker on it, but I like the fact that you can basically grill like half an animal on it in a snowstorm if necessary.” Damien made it sound like he hadn’t eaten in days.

  “We can text the girls and reconvene at Hunter and Taylor’s for dinner. They have that fire pit we can sit around and pretend to feel up our wives under blankets when it gets cold later.”

  “Whose pretending? I’m totally gonna—” Damien didn’t get to finish because Chase was already making loud noises so he didn’t have to listen to the dumbass under the sink say gross things about his little sister.

  “La, La, La, La, La!”

  “What did that jackass do now?” Hunter walked into the house, wiping sweat off his face with his T-shirt. The man probably hauled all the concrete he needed by himself because he was savage. He also didn’t need much of an explanation to know what stupid thing Damien said because it happened often enough after growing up in the house with him.

  “He denigrated Kristen, and Chase had enough visuals to make him blind.”

  “And I’m out of bleach.” Chase groaned like he was in pain and not just from the bump on his head.

  Hunter grunted. “Figures.”

  “Yeah, so we decided while you were out to have a barbeque at your house. Hope you don’t mind.” I shrugged, making sure I charmed him. Knowing how pissed my wife still was with me, I could confidently say dinner was off the table.

  “Also, not surprised,” Hunter drawled letting his dormant southern accent slip through with his irritation at us. He went back outside to resume his sidewalk project, leaving the rest of our bromance inside with a sink to repair.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about food poisoning tonight.

  10

  Remi

  According to Winnie, the boys were in the dog house. Personally, I had other pressing issues like why we didn’t have any grapefruit juice in the house and why New York didn’t have a proper mango season so I could cut them up and eat them with my bacon. I fished around, looking for my phone, and sent Evan a text to pick some up before he came home. I figured he owed me, and it was my wifely prerogative to demand a little something.

  I rubbed my belly gently, trying to settle my stomach, and grabbed an Alka-Seltzer tablet from the bathroom cabinet. I popped that into some water and tried chugging it down to only have the bugger come right back up. I would have tried again except there was knocking at the door, which could only mean one thing: Winnie was here.

  “Come on, little man, time to spend the day with your aunties and help momma.”

  “Help momma.” Ethan raised his pudgy arms for me to pick him up, and I obliged, walking him out the door.

  “My goodness, he just gets bigger and bigger, doesn’t he?” Winnie took his diaper bag from me, and we got into the car to drive over to Carmen’s bakery, where we planned to have our cooking lesson. Once we got there, we were surprised to see Kristen and Taylor.

  “Isn’t he the cutest!” Kristen took Ethan from me and swung him around as he squealed.

  “He’s so handsome.” Taylor cooed and I was toddler-free while Carmen got us set up in the back of the bakery in the kitchen.

  “All right, ladies, first I have to apologize. Federico was supposed to be my apprentice, but I can see he got carried away. I just don’t understand men, but let’s not have that dissuade you from cooking things you like in the kitchen.”

  Winnie grabbed two aprons and put one over my head and then did her own as we tied them around our waists.

  “It’s all right, Carmen. I really appreciate you taking the time to help us out. Federico said you had the flu and then Winne and Chase were sick with whatever was going around too.”

  “Let’s call it like we see it. The guys overreacted a tad, but that’s kind of why we love them.” Winnie winked and I agreed.

  “Okay, moving on let’s talk about what you’re struggling with in the kitchen.”

  “I burn almost everything no matter what I do. It never cooks the way the recipe says. I even bought a scale so I could weigh the meat and everything and still, darn things burn or don’t even cook right.”

  “Hmm.” Carmen tapped her chin and then wrote something down on her notepad. “And you, Win? What do you suck at doing in the kitchen?”

  “Besides my boyfriend after I screw up a recipe?” Winnie chortled and I bent over laughing.

  “Eww, gross. That’s my brother you’re talking about,” Kristen shouted from the other room.

  “Yep.” Winnie had no shame and so I answered for her. “I’m pretty sure Winnie hates everything about cooking. If it calls for salt, she’s using pepper, or if it says defrost in the fridge overnight, she forgets and tries microwaving it.”

  “Oh dear Jesus, girl. You want to be creative but there’s a time and place for that, and cooking is a bit like science first and art later.” Carmen scribbled more notes on her pad.

  “Sorry not sorry. I’d just rather be doing anything else except cooking.”

  “Which is totally fine, except for the whole food poisoning thing. You don’t want to kill Chase.”

  Kristen waved her hand at us. “Sometimes I do.”

  “Hush, Kristen.” Taylor tapped Kristen on the arm who faked being hurt.

  “I repeat, you don’t want to kill him.” Carmen smiled. “I have a few easy recipes that even kitchen-haters can’t screw up and best part, you’ll live and won’t have to call for takeout.”

  “Umm, hello. I’m half Asian. Take-out is in my blood the way wontons are a staple on Christmas Eve.” Winnie chuckled.

  Taylor shook her head like she wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole, which was fine by me. I loved Chinese takeout, but I also couldn’t feed my boys eggrolls forever.

  “Once we master some of these recipes, we’ll move on to making eggrolls from scratch. For now let’s cover the basics.”

  We shared a good laugh and got down to it. Carmen pulled out some chicken breasts on the bone and a tray full of spices. Before I could say anything, my stomach chose that moment to revolt, full-on. I ran to the bathroom and shut the door before embarrassing myself.

  “Remi!” I could hear them call my name as I bent over, taking care of business. The girls were talking outside the door, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything else except how awful I felt. And green. Everything tasted and looked green.

  “Are you okay in there?” Carmen knocked on the door, and I pulled myself together to answer her.

  “I’m running to the pharmacy!” Kristen shouted from beyond the door.

  “I’ll live. What was on the chicken?” I asked between shudders and visions of gross chicken skin.

  “Nothing yet. I was going to have you add some spices before we roasted them in the oven.”

  “Ugh. Can I pass?” The last thing I wanted near my mouth was rubbery gross chicken. I hadn’t even smelled it, but I knew for sure it was something nasty. Why did people even eat chicken? Now red meat was where it was at—if only I could cook it.

  “I don’t think it’s the chicken, sweetie,” Taylor said. Little hands banged on the door, and I knew Ethan needed me. I washed my hands and rinsed out my mouth.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so either,” I mumbled, opening the door.

  “Oh good, you’re alive. Go pee on this.” Kristen must have sprinted to the mom and pop pharmacy next door and handed me a box.

  Back inside the bathroom, I opened the box and did the deed. Coming out of the bathroom, I found that Carmen had nicely removed the chicken from view, smell, and proximity.

  Kris
ten practically jumped up and down, vibrating with energy.

  “I’m so excited,” she squealed as we all looked at her. “What? Babies are so cute and we already know you and Evan are going to make an adorable one to match this little guy. They’ll get the best of both of you.”

  “Calm down, baby fever. Let’s read the stick.” Winnie pushed through our little crowd at the sink and waved the stick high in the air. “Score, momma!”

  The girls cheered and I hushed them as Ethan clapped toward victories unknown.

  “Shhhh!”

  “Oh, girl, it’s not like the guys can hear you,” Kristen said.

  “I know but I have to make you all swear to secrecy. No telling husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, or pets.”

  “Pets?”

  “Y’all know you have a talking bird in your house.” I eyed Winnie up, who nodded. That bird was the slayer of secrets.

  “I gotcha girl.” Winnie and I fist-bumped, which prompted my son to toddle around to all of us, fist-bumping and giggling.

  “So, you gonna tell him tonight?” Carmen asked.

  “Negative, because apparently our presence has been requested at a barbeque at our house.” Taylor held up her phone, smiling.

  “Group tell?” Kristen pouted.

  “No. I want to cook him something special and then tell him.”

  “Ah, well we can take the little guy for the night.” Taylor picked up Ethan, who enjoyed being bounced on her hip like it was a fun game.

  “How about I come over tomorrow and we check out your oven and stovetop, which I think is probably not cooking at the right temperature. If that’s your biggest issue we’ll have you cooking in no time.”

  “Really?” I felt a spark of hope that I might actually not be a complete failure in the kitchen.

  “Really.” Carmen came over and put her arm around my shoulder, hugging me. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest as much as the heaviness in my belly from the excitement of being pregnant.