Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He grumbled something in Dutch.
“A language barrier’s not going to stop us from being friends.”
“Shit!” Elara yelled, and Xander laughed.
I narrowed my eyes because it was a nice laugh, and I had him pegged for a maniacal one. Then I noticed his apron, and I frowned. “What the…?”
“Here you go, boys,” my mother said, carrying the caramel filling to the table. “Layer it slowly so the apples don’t tear the crust.”
“Yes, Mrs. Meyers.”
“Oh, call me Penny.”
“Yes, Penny.”
Well, wasn’t Xander the little ass kisser?
Seraphina walked into the kitchen wearing a fresh face of makeup since the last time I saw her. She’d also applied perfume and fixed her hair.
“Great. More people,” Hugo grumbled, slamming a cast iron pan onto the burner. The man had no problem communicating his feelings.
Seraphina bustled over to the counter and hissed in my ear, “Thanks a lot for abandoning me. I’m going to have to burn out my retinas.”
I snickered. “Your friend’s over there in the apron.”
She looked toward the table and sucked in a breath then frowned. “They’re baking?”
“Hale is. I don’t know how Xander’s involved.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully with one perfectly manicured nail. “Marta, where are the aprons?”
How many Davenports did it take to bake a pie?
As soon as Seraphina had her clothes protected, she joined the men. “How can I help?”
Both Xander and Hale glanced down at her as she intrusively nestled in between them. She smiled up at Xander.
“I think we’ve got it covered, Phina.”
“Nonsense, there’s room for everyone,” my mother chimed in, handing Seraphina a spoon slathered in caramel. “Have a taste.”
They were like three deprived wealthy kids who never had a mommy cook with them before. Didn’t anyone ever give them a beater to lick? Only Elara took issue with the sticky caramel. Everyone else gushed over my grandmother’s recipe—including Marta. Hugo, not so much, but he did swipe a taste and raise an appraising brow that looked like approval.
My mother coached them in the art of layering pie crust lattice and free-handing autumn cutouts with the leftover dough. I smothered several laughs as they worked like middle schoolers trying to impress the teacher. It was charming and sweet in the most magical sense because the Davenports grew up with maids, butlers, and personal chefs, but never spent this sort of quality time with family in the kitchen. And everyone knew, the kitchen prep was actually the best part of the holidays.
I assumed Xander’s upbringing was much the same. None of them were good at what they were doing, but that wasn’t the point. The lattice was crooked. The filling wasn’t level. The cutout leaves looked like chicken feet. The crust was an absolute disaster. But they were having fun.
Everyone took turns singing as the holiday music continued to play, butchering the lyrics they didn’t know. When the kitchen door swung open, and Barrett walked in—a confused expression on his face—his siblings called him over.
Barrett rolled up his sleeves and jumped in. It was really adorable watching them fumble to design the perfect apple pie. Even Xander stepped back, letting the siblings have this moment to themselves. That was the first thing he did that made me actually think he might not be such a bad guy.
He washed his hands at the sink and frowned at his dress shirt. “Well, this shirt’s trash.” His gaze went to Elara’s face, where she rested on my shoulder. “She’s precious.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s amazing that she can sleep through all this.”
“She’s got that work hard, play hard Davenport mentality.”
“I bet.”
I studied him for a moment. “Are you finished your culinary adventures for the day?”
“I think so. Why? Did you need something?”
I swayed to keep Elara settled long enough for me to transport her to a softer place. “No. I was just curious. How much did you win?”
His smile curled slowly as his gaze darkened. “Thirty-two thousand.”
I nearly choked. “In cards?”
“I’m very good.”
“I’m sure you’re a real Rain Man.” Knowing Xander was a betting man, I wondered how much he was willing to risk on a friendly wager. “Think I can sink this in that trash can?” I held up a balled up paper towel.
“One-handed from here?”
“Yup.” I swayed, my other arm practically asleep under Elara’s squishy butt.
He glanced at my feet then to the trash can. “No moving?”
“Nope.”
“Over the island?”
“I won’t even move the vase of flowers out of the way.”
He laughed. “Nah, you can’t make that.”
It was my turn to twist a slow grin. “Wanna bet?”
His brow lifted and I knew I had him. “How much?”
I almost said a hundred bucks, but then I remembered who I was dealing with. “How about a thousand?”
It was clear I shocked him. “You know, if you miss, you have to pay up.”
“I’m good for it.” Actually, the thought of forking out a thousand smackers made me want to vomit, but I wasn’t backing down at this point. Besides, Hale would be the one cutting that check.