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He wasn’t about to disobey and get Daisy mad at him once more. Within five minutes, his coat was hanging up by the door and he was propped on a stool next to Daisy as they each attempted to help Cadianne build more gingerbread houses. The woman, in her wisdom, had moved the massive one off to the side. Actually, he had lifted it over there, but it had been under her direction.
Right now they were trying to not make a mess out of the one she’d given them.
“I feel like a child could be doing this better than me,” Daisy said, her breath smelling like the hot cocoa she’d been inhaling like it was water. Two cups alone while he’d been here beside her. Who knew how many prior to that.
He didn’t blame her, that shit was off-the-charts good.
“You have to practice,” Cadianne said as she brought him a piping bag. “Here you are, Mr. Rhodes.”
They were all on the backside of the counter now, out of the way if anyone happened to come inside. Occasionally people did, swinging in to pick up a pastry or a warm drink. A good portion of them knew Ms. Cadianne by name and she would talk and joke with them, as well as ask after their family.
“You think I can make something pretty with this?” It didn’t take a genius to hear the doubt in his tone.
“Yes.”
“My hands are too big to be touching something so delicate.”
Cadianne nudged the bowl of frosting to him. “Fill the bag.”
He met her gaze and noticed how she cut hers to where Daisy sat beside him, working on lining a roof, the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. Tempting him. She hadn’t cared she had been out in the rain. In fact, she looked happier than when she’d been in the hotel.
A fat curl tumbled out of her green sparkly clip and bounced by her ear. He didn’t even hesitate, merely reached out and tucked it behind her ear, the move intimate and possessive. He liked being able to do it and never wanted anyone else to have the privilege.
Daisy glanced over to him, but immediately went back to her assigned work.
“Seems to me even though you are larger and stronger, you are very good with handling something delicate. Now get to work. I have to get things ready for the dinner rush. All the people wanting to take my pastries home.” Cadianne arched an eyebrow at him.
He gave her a nod and reached for the spatula to fill what Cadianne called a piping bag. It didn’t take long before he had it topped off to where he could begin his own piping. Their houses were much smaller than the one Cadianne had been working on, but he could see them taking shape.
“Use it to make windows, decoration along the walls, shingles. They’re your creations. Let it speak to you.”
The woman left them alone and vanished into the back. Through the speakers Christmas music with a familiar and oddly comforting Louisiana flair played. A man who was used to long stretches of silence found himself searching for a topic to speak about with Daisy because he wanted to hear her soft voice flow over him.
“Are you naturally this prickly or is it just me that brings it out in you, Peach?”
Okay, for conversation starters that may not have been the best approach.
“If you have this much difficulty being pleasant, then keep your mouth shut. Or better yet, leave.”
He pivoted toward her and found her scowling at him. “I thought I was very pleasant to you last night.”
Heat flushed her skin but she didn’t look away from him. Of course not. Livingston didn’t like that. He wanted her smiles, the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she did. How she generally lifted the left side of her mouth first. All of it, he craved.
“And you’re an ass now.”
“How is this becoming my fault? I left my office to escort you around town, show you my city, and you ran off into the crowd like an immature child. I couldn’t find you.” He took a deep breath. “I got soaked out there walking up and down the street trying to locate where you were and make sure you were safe.”
“I never asked you to show me around. You invited yourself on my excursion.”
“You practically begged for it when you stopped by my office like you did.” Frustration rose and he took it out on the piping bag, making his window not as perfect as he wanted it to appear.
“Like I did? How did I do that? I showed up and passed along information given how you acted the other day when I went out.”
“Yes,” he sneered. “With him.”
“I am contracted to do a job for you, Mr. Rhodes. My contract doesn’t stipulate that you own me twenty-four hours a day or have any say in how I spend my time. I’ve easily put in over twelve hours a day working on what you hired me for. I’m allowed to stretch my legs and give my mind a break.”
