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“Claus,” she laughed. “You knew this was how we were going to be? Dancing in my kitchen to Christmas music after you cooked me the best meal of my life?”
I shrugged. “The fine details I wasn’t too sure about, but I knew I couldn’t go another day without you knowing I wanted you. Pussy Paul was a wake-up call for me. I knew if I didn’t make you mine now, you were going to find some other tool to marry.”
“Are you criticizing my choice of men?” she asked.
I tipped my head to the side. “You were going to marry Pussy Paul, sweets.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed away from me. “And now I’m standing in my kitchen kissing you. What does that say?”
I reached for her hand, but she ducked to the left and pranced into the living room. “Stevie,” I called jovially. “You’re already running from me?”
“Yes, but I’m hoping you’ll follow me,” she sang.
Oh, sweet Stevie.
I would go to the ends of the earth and back for her.
I had waited years for her, and I was never going to let her go now.
*
Chapter Seven
Stevie
“You left me.”
I leaned against the door and crossed my arms over my chest.
“You saw me out there struggling and just left me.” Claus climbed the porch stairs with a coffee in each hand and a bag tucked under his arm.
“You’re the one who started it with Mrs. James last week when you told her you would hook her up with your uncle.” I pushed off the doorframe and grabbed one of the coffees. “She’s just waiting for you to pay up.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “You wouldn’t happen to know a man in his seventies who is looking for a date, would you?”
“Claus,” I gasped. “Did you lie to poor Mrs. James about having a hot-to-trot uncle at the nursing home for her?”
He shrugged and handed me the bag under his arm. “I have no family, Stevie. At least not any I know about.”
“You’re crazy, Claus.” I reached up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “But I like it. Maybe we can contact the nursing home later and see if someone fits the description.”
“You sure do know how to have a good time, sweets,” he chuckled. “Now, get in the house before I ravage you on your front porch for the whole neighborhood to see.”
I rolled my eyes but ducked back into the house. “Did you bring me a treat?” I shook the white bag and peeked inside.
“That is one of the best donuts in a fifty-mile radius. Luckily, I worked with the pastry chef a few years back, and he hooks me up when I give him a call.”
I reached into the bag and pulled out a chocolate iced Long John. “It doesn’t look special,” I mused.
Claus grabbed the donut from me and held it up to my mouth. “Trust me on this, sweets. Have steered you wrong yet?”
He had known and hated Paul since he met him and never told me, but if you looked past that, Claus had always shot straight with me.
I took a bite, and my eyes rolled back in my head. That seemed to be a normal reaction whenever I ate anything Claus made or now recommended.
“Good, right?” Claus called through my heavenly haze.
My eyes fluttered open, and I reached for the rest of the donut. “You better pray you bought two; otherwise, we are going to wrestle for that one.” I snatched it out of Claus’ hand and flopped onto the couch.
