“You don’tmind?”
I shrugged again. “I mean, freeturkey…”
He snorted. “Therewillbe a ton of food. And we’re makingdessert.”
“Weare?” I looked at him skeptically. “Are we bringing something from the bakery? Or does your mom enjoy Oreos with spray-whipped-cream on top? Because that’s pretty much the only dessert I know how tomake.”
Julian smirked. “Okay,Iwill make dessert while youhelp.”
“I feel like you’re discounting the cookies with whipped creamoption.”
“I feel like you’re right.” He chuckled. “How about classic apple pie. Or pumpkin bread pudding. Yourchoice.”
“Well, I’d have to taste them both in advance in order to choose, wouldn’tI?”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Is thatso?”
I nodded solemnly and widened my eyes. “Maybe one this weekend and one later in the week. So I can make an informedchoice.”
“An informed choice.” He nodded. “This isn’t in any way an attempt to get freesweets?”
“Me?” I put a hand over my heart. “Julian, honestly. It’s like you don’t even know me.” I leaned closer and whispered, “Is itworking?”
Julian shivered—probably just a result of warm breath against his cold skin, but it gave me a kind of satisfaction I didn’t want to think about toomuch.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m a sucker for those eyes.” He sucked in a big breath and let it out. “And you really don’t mindcoming?”
Julian looked so unsure, it did funny things to my chest. He was so damn strong and competent at most things, and other times, it felt like he was afraid to step a foot out of line. I was shit at offering comfort and all those pesky gentler emotions, but I was stunned by the urge to wrap an arm around him and tell him that everything would be okay. The best I could give him was, “No, Julian. I really don’tmind.”
“Thanks,” he said, biting his lip. “I owe youone.”
“Pfft. I feel like family dinners should be at leastten. And a nomination for best fake boyfriend of theyear.”
Julian rolled his eyes and smiled, which was pretty much payment enough, then he grabbed the box from myhand.
“Give me a damn pastry,” hesaid.
