Page 38 of All She Wants
“Feeding me this well may be the sexiest thing you’ve done all week,” Erin said.
Claire glanced down at the island. “I find that difficult to believe. You do remember laying me across this counter and putting your mouth between my thighs, right?”
“Very clearly. And now you’ve roasted me the best chicken I have ever tasted.” Erin reached for another piece of bread. “You and this island continue to exceed expectations. I’m hoping for a repeat of both.”
“Another chicken will take ninety minutes.” Claire tapped on the island. “I can satisfy your other request immediately.”
THE FOLLOWING EVENING, Erin carried two bowls of pasta into her living room and found Claire studying the Christmas movies on the television.
“Choose one before dinner gets cold.”
“I’m trying to understand the realistic possibility of three women inheriting failing Christmas businesses from aunts they never knew.”
“It’s an important holiday tradition.”
Claire scrolled through the choices. “We have a tree farm, a gingerbread bakery, and a reindeer ranch.”
“Reindeer,” Erin said. “Always choose the woman who comes equipped with reindeer.”
Claire selected the movie and leaned back against the sofa. The first few scenes passed peacefully. Then the heroine signed ownership papers without reading them, accepted financial advice from a handsome stranger wearing an alarming amount of plaid, and learned she had six days to save the ranch.
Claire set down her wine. “She suddenly owns fourteen reindeer and hasn’t asked what they eat.”
“She’s distracted by another handsome, bearded man in plaid who happens to be a veterinarian.”
“He introduced himself four minutes ago.”
“That’s nearly a month in Christmas-movie time.”
Claire laughed and drew Erin’s legs across her lap. By the time the veterinarian revealed that he also chaired the town’s winter festival committee, Claire had developed several concerns about his workload and the municipality’s apparent lack of hiring standards. Erin flipped around, stretched across the sofa, and rested her head in Claire’s lap. She laughed out loud as Claire tried to calculate how fourteen reindeer, one holiday festival, and a woman who had never worn practical shoes could all be saved before Christmas.
“I would watch a sapphic version of this,” Claire said. “A corporate attorney returns home to sell her grandmother’s failing Christmas-tree farm and falls in love with the woman who runs the neighboring reindeer sanctuary. The reindeer keep eating the trees, so naturally they begin as enemies.”
“Naturally.”
“Then a developer threatens to build a luxury resort, and they save both properties by organizing a Christmas festival neither of them has any experience organizing.”
Erin tipped her head back to see her. “Mine would be about a woman who owns the town bakery and hasn’t had a day off in twelve years. A glamorous stranger arrives from the city, eats one cinnamon roll, and immediately offers to abandon her very successful career and work the register.”
“What brings her to town?”
“Her car slides into a snowbank on her way through town, and she can’t get it out.”
“Of course.”
“She’s rescued by a lesbian tow-truck driver who, of course, also happens to be the bakery owner, the mayor, the fire chief, and an excellent carpenter.”
Claire laughed. “I’d watch that.”
“And then the lesbian tow-truck driver/bakery owner/carpenter builds them a house before New Year’s.”
“Ambitious.”
“It’s a very efficient town.”
When the credits began, Erin sat up and noticed Claire’s overnight bag beside the stairs. A pair of her reading glasses still rested on the end table where she had left them the last time she was here.
“You brought enough clothes to stay?” Erin asked.
