One More Yule Log

By Julia Talbot

If baker Gray Carroll has to make one more Yule log cake this holiday season, he might just lose it. So when nine year old Olivia shows up at his store wanting to learn how to make one for her dad, Gray tries to turn her down flat. Olivia is determined, cute, and won't take no for an answer, so Gray agrees to coach her through the process. Doesn't hurt that her dad is kind, handsome, and currently unattached.

Ben Nightingale can't believe Olivia has blackmailed Gray someone into teaching her to bake. He's been too busy with his late husband's real estate business, but he's determined to celebrate Yule with his girl, and to get to know Gray. There's something about Gray that makes Ben believe in the magic of the season, but can he find a way to balance work and family in time for the solstice, or will Olivia and Gray's Yule Log go uneaten?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Turtlehat Creatives
• Release date: Jul 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781951532444

Book preview

1

I swear to God, Alice, if I see one more Yule log, I’m gonna puke. Gray Carrol put the finishing touches on a nontraditional Yule log that looked like a sparkly pink tree branch with teal mushrooms. The interior held rainbow swirl cake. He was proud of it, but man, he was ready for the holiday season to be over, and he still had a good bit of time to go. Okay, it had just started, hadn’t it?

Alice put her forefingers against the outside corners of her lips. Smile, boss.

He wanted to snap at her, but he didn’t because she was a dear friend, a nice person, and she’d been pulling double shifts since Rafe had quit last week. Who quit their job just over a month before Christmas?

At a bakery.

Baring his teeth, Gray growled as much like a rabid dog as he could.

It looks amazing, huh? I’ll put it in the cooler. Alice grabbed the tray, and he knew she’d treat that silly cake like a glass baby.

Thanks. He pulled out the clipboard where he kept his orders. With Rafe’s departure, he’d lost the one person who knew how to work the computer ordering system, so he was back to analog recordkeeping. He scribbled a note to call the customer, then marked the job as completed.

So, what’s next? Alice asked when she came out of the walk-in.

Cupcakes for the tree lighting. The city wanted two hundred Christmas-tree cupcakes. Vanilla cake with a spiral of green frosting and multicolored piped lights. His wrist ached already.

Don’t sound so down. It’s good to have more business than you can handle. She patted his back like she would one of her kids’.

Sorry. She was right. He was busier than a one-legged buttkicker, and he was truly proud. Somehow this year he was just also really tired. Maybe he was too old for this shit.

Okay. So. Cupcakes. Anything I need to do for the case first?

Gray had a different clipboard for that. Um, how about chocolate chip and hot chocolate cookies? There’s a dance at the VFW tonight, so we’ll stay open until eight.

Gotcha. She hustled to the back, where he heard the mixer begin its thud and flap dance. Alice was so efficient, and he was lucky to have her. Truly.

The bell over the door jangled, so he did what Alice had suggested and put a smile on his face. Welcome to Piece of Cake. How can I help you?

When he saw the customers, he immediately thought cupcakes. The adult was a lady who was probably twenty years older than his thirty-five, with long graying hair pulled back into a bun. She wore a rainbow caftan and a stack of jangly bracelets. The little girl with her had chin-length brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a serious expression.

Go ahead, Liv, the lady said, giving the girl a nudge.

The girl named Liv nodded. Okay. Hello. I need help.

Well, that was unexpected. They didn’t have a public restroom, but if she was desperate…

What are you looking for, hon?

A Yule Log.

Oh, God. Gray fought not to roll his eyes. Well, we do those, for sure.

Yes, sir. I did my research. I want to learn to make one for my daddy. You give cake classes.

Blinking, he opened his mouth, then closed it. Gray didn’t want to snarl at what? A ten-year-old? So he took a deep breath. I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m not giving classes right now. The holiday season is super busy for us.

She scowled at him. But I can pay for it. I broke my piggy bank! She held up a Ziploc bag full of coins and bills.

Oh, God, that was cute.

The older lady smiled at him wryly over Liv’s head. This is Olivia. What’s your name?

Gray Carrol. I’m the owner.

I see. Well, my name is Fran. Olivia really wants to make her own Yule log cake, you see. She and I have tried it a couple of times in the last few weeks, and it’s been nothing but a disaster.

Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, I’m happy to take an order, but I really can’t—

But you have to! Olivia’s lower lip began to quiver. My daddy used to make one every year for my dad, but then Dad died and… She trailed off, sniffling.

No fair. She had, or she’d had, two dads. God knew, he supported queer folks because he was one. His heart melted a little, but the sound of the mixer straining because Alice had tossed chocolate chips in made him stop before he opened his mouth.

I’m so sorry, Olivia. I am. I just don’t have time. Would you like a cupcake? It’s on me.

She stared at him, her dark eyes liquid with tears. No, thank you. Are you sure you can’t help me?

I don’t— When a tear broke free and ran down her cheek, he sighed. Let me look at my calendar, okay? What kind of cupcake would you like while you wait?

I like strawberry.

And Fran?

Fran gave him a gentle, knowing smile. Salted caramel, please. She pulled out her wallet to hand him a ten.

You got it. Cupcakes got passed out, change made, and Gray found his feet taking him to the office in order to look at his schedule. Looked like he was going to teach Olivia how to make a Yule log cake.

God, he was a sucker.

Hey, Mr. Nightingale, can I get you to sign these forms before you go?

Ben stopped at the door to his office, trying not to roll his eyes at his assistant, Lila. Of course. What am I looking at?

There’s a new contract that Ian worked out that just needs you to countersign, and a price reduction on that house and studio combo in Silt.

Okay, sure. He took the papers from her, reading through the contract terms super fast. He was lucky he was a speed reader, because he was leaving early so he could take Olivia on some errand she wanted to run that was very, very important.

He was already running late for that.

Ben scrawled his signature, his head throbbing a bit. He hated all of this admin crap. Heck, he hated having to go into an office every day. He was no mover and shaker.

Have a good afternoon, Lila.

You too. She whisked the paper away, her heels clicking. No one in the Roaring Fork valley wore such formal stuff to work, even in banks and law offices. Lila liked to be just so.

He ducked out of his office, trying to get out quickly. Which, of course, meant his business partner, Craig Dobson, caught him as he slipped down the hall.

Ben! There you are. I was calling your office. Hey, we need to talk about the holiday party we’re throwing for the clients. We’ve done well this year.

He counted to eight. He was trying for ten, but he knew better than to leave Craig that much time. Sure. Of course. Get with Lila. We can meet about it on Monday, okay? I have to do a thing at school with Liv.

Oh, man, good luck. I’ll see you bright and early Monday?

You know it. There. He practically ran out the door. Ever since Dale passed he’d been a not-so-silent partner at the real estate office. God, he wished he was still the house husband who did the household finances and occasionally typed up contracts.

He missed having time with Olivia. Family time.

Today he would try to fix some of that.

The drive home took longer than he wanted, thanks to the usual Friday pileup of traffic through Glenwood, but he thought they would have plenty of time to do whatever it was Olivia had planned.

Liv, honey? I’m home! he called out.

The house echoed with him, but that was it. No one answered.

Fran? His aunt took care of Olivia most days, and she should have been there helping Liv with her homework. Ben headed to the kitchen, looking for a note. He also checked his phone, just in case he’d missed a call.

Nothing. Okay, weird. He pushed down the panic that tried to rise. He called up Fran’s name on his favorites list and dialed.

Hello?

Hey, Frannie. Is, uh, is everything okay?

Hmm? Oh, of course! We’re doing great. Liv just wanted to do some, um, shopping.

He blinked. Fran was lying to him. She was a terrible liar.

You’re not at the hospital, right? Promise me you’re not at the ER.

Don’t be an idiot, Ben. Now that sounded like her normal voice. Liv wants to surprise you with something.

With what? I was supposed to take her somewhere.

You were late. She sighed. Why don’t you come meet us for an early supper? We’re just down the way from White House, huh? We can meet you there in about an hour.

Disappointment hit him hard. He was sure this was how Liv felt because he was late, and why they’d decided to go without him. Sure. Okay. It will take me about that long to get back in.

No rush. Just text when you’re parking.

Okay. Bye.

Bye. She hung up, and he shook his head, looking around the super quiet house. Maybe they should downsize. The big A-frame with all the glass seemed ridiculously huge and ostentatious now. Dale had loved to throw weekend house parties or have a dozen of Olivia’s friends over. They just didn’t do that kind of stuff anymore.

He changed into jeans and a sweater, then pulled on comfy boots. God, he loathed dress shoes. He grabbed his wallet, then headed to the kitchen to get the keys he’d left there. On the counter, Ben saw a printed sheet of paper with an information page from a local business. Piece of Cake Bakery. Grand Avenue in Carbondale.

Huh.

He would peer inside when he went by, maybe. What the heck could Olivia want at a professional bakery? Well, besides a cupcake. She did love those.

Tucking the paper away in the cubby by the front door, he headed out, and it only took him about forty-five minutes to find his way to a parking space on a side street. He texted Fran after he locked up the big SUV, hoping she and Liv were ready to eat because somehow it was almost six.

They met him at the door to the pizza place, Liv running up to him to demand a hug. Hi, Daddy! You look nice.

Thanks, honey. Did you have a good afternoon? She had a smear of flour on her nose. Curiouser and curiouser.

I did! How was your day?

Ben blinked. Usually she would go on and on about what she’d done if he wasn’t there when she did it.

It was busy, kiddo. He stroked her hair, kind of surprised at how tall she was. She had to have grown an inch since he’d last really noticed.

You’re always busy. She patted his arm. I want a gyro.

Okay. Hey, Aunt Fran. What was the errand?

Fran made a zipping motion on her lips. Been sworn to secrecy.

Huh. Ben was pretty sure he didn’t approve of being left out of the secret.

Silly daddy. It’s a surprise, is all.

Well, I guess surprises are good this time of year. Kind of. A little. Oh, who was he kidding? Ben hated surprises.

That’s the spirit, Fran told him, winking broadly.

He would have to interrogate her later. For now, he had a falafel burger to procure, and time to spend with the most important person in his life.

That superseded everything else.

2

Saturday mornings were always super busy for Piece of Cake. Birthday cake pickups, people with events and birthdays grabbed their cookies and cupcakes, and between now and New Year’s, there would be holiday parties on rush.

Gray wiped down the two tables that had just left, the croissant crumbs and coffee rings making him happy. They were evidence of a job well done, that he’d had satisfied customers. He loved it when people moaned like these guys had, when they licked their fingers.

The bell over the door jingled, so Gray glanced up with his business smile, which widened into a real grin when he saw Olivia Nightingale. Hey, Olivia! How are you this morning?

Good. It’s cold, but the sun is so nice! She held the hand of a tall, handsome man with light brown hair streaked with blond and intense blue eyes.

Where’s Fran?

Olivia swung the man’s hand back and forth. She’s home with her feet up, reading. This is my daddy. He wanted to have a date with me.

Oh, that sounds nice. Uh, hi. I’m Gray Carrol. Pleased to meet you.

Ben Nightingale. Olivia was telling me you had chocolate croissants—the best in the whole world. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she loves cupcakes.

Not one bit, though she does. Strawberry, right, kiddo?