dime, thank you very much.” He poked Carson in the side. “So you talked about me, eh? Let them think you’d met some guy who you were falling for?”
Carson’s cheeks heated. “I had met some guy I was falling for—just with a looser interpretation of the word met .”
Tom beamed. “I told my family about you too. Except I didn’t leave out the hotline part. They know exactly how we met and how I bungled everything by not telling you I was giving you my actual number.”
“Do they know you’re here?”
Tom nodded. “I felt like I had to tell someone, just in case you ended up being an ax murderer. Can’t be too safe, you know.”
Carson laughed, imagining that phone call. “And they didn’t tell you it was stupid to come?”
“Oh, they did. Or rather, my sister did. I texted her that everything was fine before I even took off my coat last night, along with the photo I took. You didn’t notice?”
He’d completely missed that. “No, can’t say that I did. I was a little distracted.”
“I suppose having your hand stuck in a dead bird would be a little preoccupying.”
Carson reached over and grabbed Tom’s hands, closing his own around them. “Actually, I hardly noticed that. It was more the gorgeous guy suddenly standing in my kitchen.”
“Gorgeous, huh?” Tom teased. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I know.”
“And so modest!”
Carson squeezed his hands. “You’re the one who said you’d swipe right for me last night.”
Tom tugged his hands back, bringing Carson tumbling closer, and stared into his eyes seriously. “I’ll swipe you any direction you want.”
They both erupted into giggles again. Carson ducked his head and nuzzled against Tom’s throat. “That was terrible.”
He could feel the rumble of Tom’s laugh in his chest. “Terribly funny,” Tom sniped.
“Terribly terrible.”
Tom squeezed his thigh and let his hand wander up higher.
Carson’s laugh turned into a groan. “The turkey’s getting cold,” Carson murmured against Tom’s neck.
“We’ll put everything in the fridge and eat it later. Leftovers are the best part of holiday meals, anyway.”
Carson leaned back. “Are they really leftovers if we never had the meal in the first place?”
Tom kissed him and grabbed him by the shoulders, swinging him out of his way. “Where’s your Saran Wrap?”
Carson lazed back against the table. “Your dedication to food safety is so sexy.”
“Shut up,” Tom said, rummaging through the cabinets and drawers. “Seriously, how do you not have Saran Wrap?”
“Is your dirty talk all about salmonella and listeria? I could get into that,” Carson teased. He crossed his arms and watched Tom as he moved around the small space.
Tom made a happy noise when he found what he was looking for and then turned and pointed the box at Carson. “I’m not letting all this food go to waste. You’ll thank me when I make you some of my famous fried turkey and mashed potato hash tomorrow morning. It’s the best morning-after-Christmas breakfast ever.”
Warmth washed over Carson at what Tom was implying. He knew Tom had to fly out tomorrow night, so he’d figured Tom would want to go home tonight.
Tom stiffened when he realized what he’d said. “I mean, if that’s okay. I get it if you—”
Carson pushed off his space at the table and crossed the few steps to Tom. He wrapped his arms around him, cuddling into his back as Tom continued to put away the food. Tom relaxed almost immediately, and Carson pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck.
“Remember that survey? You should ask me the questions again.”
Tom coughed. “The customer service survey? Seriously?”
Carson kissed him again, sliding his lips up from Tom’s neck to his jaw, and Tom dropped the Tupperware lid he’d been trying to put on the mashed potatoes.
“Okay, fine. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being excellent, how would you rate my service today, Mr.
Carson’s cheeks heated. “I had met some guy I was falling for—just with a looser interpretation of the word met .”
Tom beamed. “I told my family about you too. Except I didn’t leave out the hotline part. They know exactly how we met and how I bungled everything by not telling you I was giving you my actual number.”
“Do they know you’re here?”
Tom nodded. “I felt like I had to tell someone, just in case you ended up being an ax murderer. Can’t be too safe, you know.”
Carson laughed, imagining that phone call. “And they didn’t tell you it was stupid to come?”
“Oh, they did. Or rather, my sister did. I texted her that everything was fine before I even took off my coat last night, along with the photo I took. You didn’t notice?”
He’d completely missed that. “No, can’t say that I did. I was a little distracted.”
“I suppose having your hand stuck in a dead bird would be a little preoccupying.”
Carson reached over and grabbed Tom’s hands, closing his own around them. “Actually, I hardly noticed that. It was more the gorgeous guy suddenly standing in my kitchen.”
“Gorgeous, huh?” Tom teased. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I know.”
“And so modest!”
Carson squeezed his hands. “You’re the one who said you’d swipe right for me last night.”
Tom tugged his hands back, bringing Carson tumbling closer, and stared into his eyes seriously. “I’ll swipe you any direction you want.”
They both erupted into giggles again. Carson ducked his head and nuzzled against Tom’s throat. “That was terrible.”
He could feel the rumble of Tom’s laugh in his chest. “Terribly funny,” Tom sniped.
“Terribly terrible.”
Tom squeezed his thigh and let his hand wander up higher.
Carson’s laugh turned into a groan. “The turkey’s getting cold,” Carson murmured against Tom’s neck.
“We’ll put everything in the fridge and eat it later. Leftovers are the best part of holiday meals, anyway.”
Carson leaned back. “Are they really leftovers if we never had the meal in the first place?”
Tom kissed him and grabbed him by the shoulders, swinging him out of his way. “Where’s your Saran Wrap?”
Carson lazed back against the table. “Your dedication to food safety is so sexy.”
“Shut up,” Tom said, rummaging through the cabinets and drawers. “Seriously, how do you not have Saran Wrap?”
“Is your dirty talk all about salmonella and listeria? I could get into that,” Carson teased. He crossed his arms and watched Tom as he moved around the small space.
Tom made a happy noise when he found what he was looking for and then turned and pointed the box at Carson. “I’m not letting all this food go to waste. You’ll thank me when I make you some of my famous fried turkey and mashed potato hash tomorrow morning. It’s the best morning-after-Christmas breakfast ever.”
Warmth washed over Carson at what Tom was implying. He knew Tom had to fly out tomorrow night, so he’d figured Tom would want to go home tonight.
Tom stiffened when he realized what he’d said. “I mean, if that’s okay. I get it if you—”
Carson pushed off his space at the table and crossed the few steps to Tom. He wrapped his arms around him, cuddling into his back as Tom continued to put away the food. Tom relaxed almost immediately, and Carson pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck.
“Remember that survey? You should ask me the questions again.”
Tom coughed. “The customer service survey? Seriously?”
Carson kissed him again, sliding his lips up from Tom’s neck to his jaw, and Tom dropped the Tupperware lid he’d been trying to put on the mashed potatoes.
“Okay, fine. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being excellent, how would you rate my service today, Mr.
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