Chapter Seven
Regina studied Emmett as he bent over the sheets of gingerbread, bag of icing in hand, tongue out in concentration. Evidently, judging the competition wasn’t enough. They had extra supplies they’d ‘brought for the kiddos,’ and Fern, who was running the event, told them they might as well make a house instead of ‘standing around like bums’.
So they were making a house.
Icing dripped out the back of the bag, and Regina couldn’t help it. She stepped forward and placed her hand over his. “You’ve got to squeeze from the end. I know it’s not fun and carefree, but icing is spilling all over the floor.”
Emmett glanced from her to the bag and then to her again. He swiped a glob of icing onto his finger and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm. See, I do it this way because then I have no choice but to clean up the mess with my tongue.”
“That would be nice, except now I’m not going to have any icing left for the decorations I’ve carefully divvied out, and how can we be judges if we can’t even complete a house of our own?”
Emmett raised an eyebrow and swiped another finger through the icing. But instead of licking it off himself, he extended it toward her. “Go on. You know you want a taste.”
Her pulse spiked. They were going to get in trouble, first for eating all their icing and second for causing a scene in the middle of the community center. Still, she stepped closer to him and took a taste.
His pupils dilated, and the temperature in the room shot up about a billion degrees—those houses would be melted here pretty quick.
“Only fifty minutes left,” Fern said, and they jumped apart. She glanced between them, far too smug.
Regina cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m a really good multitasker,” she said without thinking how exactly that sounded.
Emmett snort-laughed behind her, and she elbowed him in the gut, satisfaction going through her at the sound of his grunt. Fern strode off, and Regina longingly studied their candy. “I hope that I can eat one of those Twizzlers after our house has been on display for a while.”
“Or you could just eat one now, like I’m going to do with my favorite Christmas candy.” Emmett grabbed a gumdrop and tossed it in his mouth.
“Yuck! Gumdrops are the worst, and you ate a green one at that.”
He reached out, snagged another, and placed it on his tongue.
She bumped him away from the candy so they’d have some left to decorate with. Much more of his snacking, and they wouldn’t be able to make the trees in the front, unless they decided to make pink or red ones, but those colors were needed for the windows. “You make icing glue spots; I’ll place.”
Emmett saluted.
“Smart aleck. I’m taking that as your total obsequiousness.”
They circled the gingerbread house, and while Emmett had made a mess of the icing bag and floor, his foundation and seam work was solid. They made a good, efficient team, which was fun for her. Take that, Steve.
Emmett reached for another gumdrop, and she playfully smacked his hand.
“Just wait and see if we have any left.” They wouldn’t with the schematics she’d mentally drawn up, but she’d wait to drop that gummy bomb.
Emmett circled an arm around her waist, anchoring her to his chest and then reached around her, grabbed a pink gumdrop, and ate it.
“Now the top floor won’t have all its windows!”
“Better even it out then,” he said, stealing another as she attempted to wiggle free and block him from putting that one in his mouth.
She failed.
“My mom puts gumdrops in her fruitcake,” he said. “This is making me crave a piece.”
“I repeat my earlier ‘yuck.’ I’ve never seen anyone actually eat fruitcake. I have this theory that only a hundred or so have ever been made, and every Christmas, people just re-gift the loaves they received the year before.”
“Not true. I’ve eaten a lot in my day.” He took a handful of M&M’s out of the bowl, and she kicked up her efforts to break free.
“Emmett Haywood, don’t you dare eat my roof tiles.”
“I’m not going to. You are.” He brought them in front of her face. “I’ve decided that I’m in charge of you having fun tonight. Open your mouth.”