Holiday Cheer from Andrew Grey and Amy Lane

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

GREGORY WALKED down the sidewalk two days and a whole new weather pattern later. He checked the address to make sure he was in the right place. Will had said that a friend of his might be able to help with the cake and other baking. He found the house and knocked on the front door.

“Just a minute…,” a mellow voice called from inside.

Gregory waited, soaking in the winter sunshine. The snow had melted, with only the piled areas remaining. He turned back to the door as it opened.

“Gregory?”

“Rhys?” Gregory asked. Damn, now he was even more off-balance, and his nerves shot through the roof. It wasn’t every day that you stood face-to-face with the guy you’d dated for two weeks and fallen in love with even though you knew you shouldn’t. “My God. I…. A friend of mine recommended you because I needed some special baking for a party.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Nonsense,” Rhys Denning said with a smile that seemed genuine. “Come on in.” He stepped back, and Gregory went inside. The Christmas tree was already up in the living room, the lights on and twinkling. The house smelled like the holidays in every sense of the word—cinnamon, maybe cloves, a touch of chocolate. “What can I do for you?”

Gregory pulled his attention away from the decorations and the heavenly scent. “I’m sorry, I….”

“Is this because of what happened when we dated?” Rhys motioned to the sofa, and Gregory took a few steps and sat down. What the hell? What did he have to lose but his dignity?

“I guess. I mean, things were going well, and then….” He sighed and shrugged. “I guess things didn’t work out.” Even though Gregory had certainly wished they had.

“That was a long time ago, and I hate to say it, but I was an ass back then. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just one of those stupid timing things. I had broken up with a boyfriend I’d been with for two years, and he returned and said he wanted to try again. I was stupid enough to believe him and give him a chance. I should have told him to take a hike and seen where things went with you. It was always one of the things I regretted.” Rhys sat back. “I really am sorry for what happened then. You deserved better than that.”

Gregory wanted to put his fingers in his ears to clear them out to make sure he had heard right. “You did? You are?”

“Yes.” Rhys smiled. “Now, does that help clear the air? I should have looked you up after that, but I was too embarrassed and I figured you would have found someone else. I didn’t want to mess things up for you the way Hector had for me.”

It surprised Gregory how open and forthright Rhys was. He wasn’t really used to that. Gregory had been raised by parents and then a sister where he needed to peel the onion layer by layer in order to see what was on the inside. Just putting things out there wasn’t in his family makeup. Gregory was actually wondering if Rhys was telling the truth or if he had some other motivation, when he stopped and smiled.

“It does, thank you,” he said rather softly as he realized that Rhys didn’t really owe him anything, and that his explanation was open and seemed freely given, judging by his expression and the shine in his blue eyes.

“Anyway.” Rhys put his hands on his knees with a light slap that sent up a small cloud of flour from his dusty clothes. “What is it that I can do for you?”

“Well….” Gregory opened the folder and pulled out… the list. Over the last two days, it had taken on an ominous connotation in his mind. “My sister, Annalise, is pregnant and confined to bed rest. We were afraid she was going to need to be hospitalized, but she’s doing better now.” That was a relief. “Her best friend is getting married, and Annalise promised to be matron of honor and to plan the bachelorette party. And now she’s asked me to step in because she can’t.” He sighed. “Plan the party, I mean, not be matron of honor.” He snickered at the idea.

“Can I see the list?” Rhys asked, and Gregory handed it over. “Okay… we can do the cake, no problem… and the other desserts, no problem.” He lifted his gaze. “What about the savory dishes?”

Gregory swallowed. “I burn water. I was going to see about a caterer, but everyone I called was already booked. She included recipes, so I thought that I would be very careful and try to make them. They don’t seem too complicated, but I’m so terrible in the kitchen. Annalise tried to teach me, but she ended up kicking me out for safety reasons.”

“I see….” Rhys continued smiling. “Let me check my calendar.” He pulled out his phone, and Gregory wondered what he had in mind. “Yes. I’m free the day before and the day of the party. So I can make the rest of the dishes for you.”

Gregory breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you…,” he said, and then remembered. “Umm, there’s one more thing. She wrote a final item on a second sheet of paper.” Gregory handed that over to Rhys, who took one look and burst out laughing.

“You have to be kidding?” Rhys snickered.

“It’s a Christmas-themed bachelorette. Apparently the stripper is coming as Sexy Santa, and she wants trees on the cake, and the drinks are all holiday-themed.” Gregory found himself smiling.

Rhys lightly bit his lower lip. “She wants forty-eight Santa-hatted, penis-shaped baguettes. What is she going to do with them?” His eyes sparkled.

“In her other notes, the plan is to use them as Christmas tree decorations and party favors.” Gregory smiled. “I can just see the tree now.” He covered his mouth to keep from laughing and failed when Rhys chuckled outright.

Gregory had missed that sound. Sometimes he still heard the clear, joyous laugh in his sleep. It was one of the things he had liked most about Rhys—his ability to laugh with others and at himself. Gregory was a self-conscious kind of guy, so he tended to be reserved. Rhys had been open, and he laughed easily, which only made those around him happy as well.

“I think I can help you with those as well. I have made baguettes before, and it’s all about the flour. I have notes about the blend I used, so I could get a good consistency for the crunch.”

“Oh thank God,” Gregory breathed. “I want Annalise to be happy, but I also want Cynthia to have the best bachelorette party and wedding possible. She’s a kind soul.” And Gregory hadn’t met many of those in his life. His sister was good and fiercely protective, but Annalise tended more toward the awful truth than kindness… if that made any sense.

“What about all the other decorations?” Rhys handed back the list, and Gregory placed it in the file for safekeeping. Maybe he’d take a picture of it when he got home so he’d have a record in case he lost it. “I remember you were always good at numbers, but not handicrafts.”

“Hasn’t changed. Annalise got all that talent.”

Rhys leaned forward and patted his knee. “Don’t worry, I can help you with all of it, if you’d like.” He pulled his hand back, and Gregory swallowed, still feeling the warmth through his jeans. A timer rang in the kitchen, and Rhys jumped up. “I need to get some things out of the oven. Come on.”

Gregory followed him into the kitchen and came to a stop in the doorway. It was like no home kitchen he had ever seen. Two large wall ovens, as well as a large, professional-looking stove, dominated one wall, with a large island prep area that included an inset butcher block, and lots of cabinets in black, with everything else in lighter colors. “I don’t want to mess anything up,” Gregory said as Rhys pulled a chocolate cake layer out of the oven, the scent making his stomach rumble with the numminess.

“You’ll be fine,” Rhys said as he set the first layer to cool and pulled out the second layer, before putting two more pans in the oven to bake. “It’s a constant thing around here most days.” Rhys checked the layers again with his finger, seemed pleased, and left them to cool. “I do any number of handmade cakes and bakery items a day. Each is made to order and special.”

“I see.” Gregory lifted his gaze from the cake layers.

“These are nothing like the grocery store cakes.” Rhys handed Gregory a scrap piece of cake from his cutting board, and it was moist, light, chocolaty, and melted in his mouth.

“Oh my God….” Gregory moaned. And this was just the cake. It wasn’t even iced. “What sort of frosting do you do?” He wanted another bite.

“All kinds—buttercream, fudge, mirror glazes as well. I can do fondant, but I don’t like to. It looks pretty and is all the rage on cooking shows, but it tastes like nothing, and I don’t like the mouthfeel.”

Gregory tried not to snicker as he thought about something in particular with a really nice mouthfeel. “Do you do cupcakes and things like that?”

Rhys shrugged. “I have, but there are a lot of places that do them. If I get a special order, then I’ll make them. I did wedding cupcakes last year for two hundred. It was a beautiful display. The cake for the party won’t be anywhere that big. We could do a ten-inch round cake with three layers. Does Cynthia like lemon?”

“She adores it.”

“Then lemon cake with a strawberry filling. I can ice and decorate the cake with a holiday theme like on your sister’s list. The mini quiches shouldn’t be a problem, and I can make savory cream puff shells that we can fill. That should take the place of the sandwich things your sister had on her list and elevate it just a little. I can help you pick out the things for the fruit and cheese, and I can make some of the dips and things.”

“Thank you. You’re saving my life.”

Rhys nodded. “But I need a favor.”

“Okay…,” Gregory said cautiously, even though he would do whatever he had to in order to pull this off. He needed this to go well for Annalise and for Cynthia.

“I’m going to need some help. This is the busiest time of year for me. I have the layers for twelve cakes to bake today and twelve to put together, with people picking some of them up tonight. I can do that. It’s not a problem because most of them are already done, and I can bake layers ahead. But with the additional work for the party, I’m going to be stretched thin.”

Gregory understood. “Ummm, I don’t know what I can do. You know I’m a danger in the kitchen, and there’s no way I can do any of this.” He motioned around the room and nearly knocked a pan onto the floor. “See.”

“Really? I could use some help, and I can instruct you.” Rhys got some layers out of the pantry and removed them from the plastic wrap. He started the mixer on the counter and left it running while he got a turntable out of a lower cupboard. “Making a cake is like putting up a building. You need to start with a good foundation.” He put a round cardboard on the turntable and added the first layer. Rhys turned off the mixer, raised the beater paddle, and cleaned it with a spatula. “What I really need your help with will be the savory things. Also, if you want, I can help with the bows and decorations, but you definitely need to work with me on that.”

“Okay,” Gregory agreed. Annalise had asked him to make this happen, and he’d said he would. “What do you want me to do?”

Rhys seemed surprised, but Gregory had no place to be. “Open that door. There’s a stack of aprons on the shelf just inside. Get one and put it on.”

He did as Rhys asked, and when he turned back, the first layers had been filled and Rhys was adding the third. His movements were practiced, flowing, and almost erotic, especially the way he tilted his hips and body to make sure everything went on just right.

Gregory put on the apron and closed the door. “I’m ready, I guess.” This was strange territory for him.

“Wash your hands well.” Rhys continued working without looking up, using four layers and then lightly coating the outside of the cake with frosting before setting it in one of the large refrigerators next to half a dozen others. “That one is crumb-coated. Those are iced and ready to be decorated.” He pulled open the door to a second refrigerator. “These are ready for pickup.” There had to be six of them in there, all standing perfect and beautiful.

“I see.” Gregory washed his hands and dried them on the towel Rhys told him to.

“Now. Take that sheet pan and put it over the top of those layers.”

Gregory got the empty pan off the table and did as Rhys asked.

“The bottom pan should be cool, so clamp everything together with your hands and flip it over. Take the top pan off and set it aside.”

Gregory nodded, putting it where he’d gotten the other pan from.

“Now slowly lift the pans off the cakes.”

“I did it,” Gregory said when the cake stayed on the tray.

“Perfect. You can tap the pan lightly before you lift it off—that will usually free the layer… perfect. Finish the last one, then gently wrap the layers in plastic wrap so they don’t dry out.”

“This is sort of fun,” Gregory said. He followed the instructions and soon had three trays of cake layers packed up. Rhys had finished another cake and put it in the refrigerator. He then helped Gregory pull out a rolling rack and showed him how to store the layers.

“Fill this one from the bottom up. That way I know the oldest ones are down there. Then if you want, you can do the next set of pans.”

“All right.” Gregory could hardly believe he was actually doing something useful in the kitchen.

“You’re doing a good job.” Rhys flashed him a smile that lingered longer than Gregory thought was necessary, and a little flash of heat and wonder shot through him. Was Rhys checking him out? Gregory hoped so, though he was a little leery from what had happened before, but….

Rhys’s compliment must have jinxed him, because a cacophony of clangs broke the moment and Gregory sighed at the pans he’d managed to knock to the floor. “I did warn you.” He was just a danger in the kitchen. This entire endeavor was going to be a disaster, and he was going to somehow mess up Rhys’s kitchen. Maybe he should quit while he was ahead and before he injured someone.