New York Christmas Read Online Free

his gaze scanning from cream-filled buns to cookies and back again.
    “No,” Chris said instantly and then felt like banging his head on the coffee machine. No? What kind of response was that? It was rude and sharp and dammit, Daniel was frowning.
    “What can you recommend instead?” wide-cop interrupted, and Chris was never more thankful for someone pushing the conversation along.
    “Caramel… chip… muffins,” Chris finally suggested. Great, a coherent sentence was really not happening this morning any more than it had the other day.
    “I love caramel muffins,” short-cop offered helpfully, and Daniel nodded his obvious agreement.
    “We’ll take fifteen,” Daniel ordered and tapped on the glass case, “caramel chip muffins. Please.”
    Chris packed the muffins in one of the larger boxes they kept for bigger orders and handed it over to Daniel. This time when Daniel handed over the bills Chris calculated there wouldn’t be any change, and he experienced a pang of instant sadness that he wasn’t going to be touching Daniel’s hand.
     
     
    He managed to smile. Well he tried to smile, but seriously, what was he supposed to do? Daniel-freaking-Bailey had returned and was standing right in front of him in the store, his face reddened with cold, his hazel eyes sparkling with light. And he… he was in uniform. Uniform!
    Daniel in uniform with sparkling eyes and that dimple was every fantasy Chris had ever had, all rolled into one package. Chris had no blood left in his body—it had all rocketed in the direction of his dick.
    “Have a nice day,” he finally managed to call after the retreating cops. Daniel glanced back, a thoughtful expression on his face, and he nodded in answer.
    Daniel. Uniform. Chris was fucked. What a damned idiot. All he had to say was something along the lines of: How are you? What are you doing now? Why did you decide to be a cop? He could have kept it in the realms of academia; after all, that was how they knew each other. Even a ‘did you actually manage the entire four years at school without fucking up?’ would have worked. But, hell , all that had come out had been some inane crap about caramel muffins. He was seriously screwed if he couldn’t even come up with one sentence that didn’t include the word ‘muffin’.
    There was some kind of commotion at the door and the crowd parted up to the counter. Daniel had returned, in his uniform, all striding and confident, back here to Chris, who gaped, all staring and shaking inwardly like a leaf. Words. Remember your words , came a faint voice inside his head.
    Apologizing to the macchiato and toffee-pecan-pie-slice man who was in the middle of ordering, Daniel leaned over the counter. Said customer just took one look at the tall cop and stepped back.
    “I would love to catch up, Chris,” Daniel said. Expectation was etched into his face, and Chris blinked at the statement. He needed to string that sentence together, that vital sentence that said ‘ yes please ’ .
    “Yes.” Well, one word wasn’t bad.
    Daniel looked around the shop with a wry smile. “I would say meet for coffee but I’m guessing you are probably all coffee’d out?”
    “No, coffee’s fine—” Oh damn, not here though. Ame would be watching the whole time, probably with sniggering, snide comments tossed in freely. “Not here though,” he added quickly. Daniel nodded in quick agreement.
    “I’m on late shift, day off tomorrow or the next?”
    “Tomorrow. I’ll be here—if you want to meet here?” Sentences. Without the word muffin.
    “What time do you finish your shift?” Daniel asked.
    “Two thirty,” Chris lied. He didn’t actually have shifts as such; he just covered where he was needed. The time had floundered to the surface of a brain that was questioning every move he was making. Two thirty wouldn’t seem too eager, would it?
    It was less lunchtime focused and more midafternoon. You need to let Ame know, his confused mind