Jaime’s dad cooked the meals, and his mom sat in her Barcalounger holding court with her extended family. Kids ran amuck, adults sipped cocktails, and the house smelled of pine, cinnamon, and roasting meat. Cole smiled at the good memories.
It struck him that he’d be hosting Christmas here. Which meant it was up to him to create the magic for the girls.He was surprised at how much he liked that idea, giving Darren’s kids the kind of holiday he’d missed out on.
Yeah. He liked it a fuck of a lot.
He came into the kitchen with his bags held high. “Who’s hungry?”
“Me, me, me.” Evvie danced with excitement.
He set them on the counter and started pulling out food. “Let’s get some plates and forks.” As he went to the cabinet, Hailey started unpacking the groceries.
“Why did you get balloons?” Paisley waved the bag toward her sister. “Look it. She got balloons.”
Hailey’s grin blinded him like a paparazzi’s flash. “They’re for tomorrow. We’re going to play some games with them.”
“But I have school tomorrow.” Paisley looked devastated.
“Don’t worry. We’ll wait until you get home.”
“Evvie play?” the three-year-old asked.
“Absolutely. We all will.” The light from the refrigerator made Hailey’s hazel eyes sparkle and accentuated the different shades of blond in her wavy hair.
She was so damn pretty. But as long as he kept seeing her like that, he’d keep being awkward.So, snap out of it.“Okay, let’s eat.” The girls ran to the table, chairs scraped on the hardwood floor, and he held up a container. “Who wants chateaubriand?” He lifted another one. “We’ve got paella in case you prefer fish. There’s chicken pot pie—that was my favorite when I was a kid. And in case you’re not meat eaters, I got pesto pasta with fresh mozzarella.” He reached for a serving spoon. “Who wants what?” Three pairs of eyes stared at him.
Evvie turned her nose away. “I not eat dat.”
“You don’t eat what? I got a little of everything.” He looked at Paisley. “What about you? You want noodles?”
She peered into the bowl. “Why are they green?”
“Because of the sauce.” He shot Hailey a look. “What kid doesn’t like noodles?”
But she was too busy laughing to answer.
“What? You said to get what I liked when I was a kid.”
“Yes, like chicken fingers or fish sticks. Not chat—” She laughed so hard she couldn’t finish the word. “Chateau—” Another burst of laughter had her doubling over.
“Chateaubriand? It’s steak.”
After Hailey caught her breath, she said, “Pretty sure kids eat chicken fingers and mac and cheese.”
“I want shicken fingers,” Evvie said.
“Well, that’s not what I had when I was a kid.” He ate whatever Chef served him. “I ate Chateaubriand.” What was wrong with that? Everyone liked steak. “It’s the tenderloin. It melts in your mouth like butter.” He dropped a slice onto Paisley’s plate. “Here, try it.”
She shook her head, slapping her hand over her mouth.
“You’re not going to eatsteak?”
She shook her head.
“Well, what do you want?”
“Chicken fingers.”
“I don’t have any. But I do have chicken pot pie. You can’t not like that.” With a serving spoon, he dumped some onto a plate. “Here, try it.” The steam wafted out, so he blew on it.