“You”re going to bake you a gingerbread man with a huge what?”

Rayne kept her face as serious as she possibly could–which was pretty hard considering the topic of discussion. “You heard me.”

Her best friend, Shelly, sent her a questioning look before turning her surprise into laughter. After a couple of minutes of uncontrollable mirth, she found her voice. “A gingerbread man with a big dick.” She wiped away the tears and rolled her eyes. “Rayne Talum, you are one perverted woman.”

“Maybe so, but if I have to bake cookies for the office holiday party, I may as well bake something I”ll enjoy. Like a gingerbread man with a big, edible dick.”

Shelly followed Rayne into the kitchen, scooping up the wine bottle and refilling her glass. “Oh, sure. Why not? I can just see Mr. Grissom”s face when you hand him a cookie. ‘Here Mr. Grissom, sir, enjoy. Then maybe we can talk about that raise you”ve been promising me. Providing the old fart of a boss swings that way.”

Rayne flipped open the cupboard and pulled out her baking tray–which she rarely used–waxed paper, all the ingredients, and a large pot. She filled the pot with water and turned on the heat to set the liquid to boil. “No, you twit. I have just enough ingredients to make two batches. One for the office party and a few extra cookies, including one nice, large man for me.”

“Good. It”s nice to know you haven”t totally lost it. I thought for a minute that all the wine we drank tonight had screwed up your head.”

Rayne combined the sugar and butter, and beat an egg into the mixture. “Do you think I”m professionally suicidal? Although I doubt I”d be the first attorney who ever got disbarred for acts of an immoral nature.”

She and Shelly shared a chuckle over the joke. Making jokes at their profession was fine when it was between them, but let any outsider try it and they”d jump all over the person.

“Why not just buy something at the bakery like you did last year?” Shelly, like Rayne, didn”t like to cook, much less bake.

“Because I heard Old Man Grissom telling someone that he knew the cupcakes I brought last year were store-bought. And that he prefers homemade.” As she added the molasses and orange juice, Rayne flipped her hair out her way. “Damn, I need to get in to see Roberto soon. This hair is driving me crazy.”

“We should all be driven crazy by our long, shiny, black hair.” Shelly twirled a finger around her short, mousy-brown curls. “Stop bitching, bitch.”

Rayne knew she should be thankful for her looks. With raven hair flowing to the middle of her back and a fit–okay, sexy as hell–body, she knew she often drew attention away from her less attractive friend. Still, as an attorney trying to be taken seriously in the courtroom, her appearance was sometimes a detriment to her career goals. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Sorry.”

She continued to work by mixing the dry ingredients into the dough. Once finished, she shoved the mixture into the refrigerator. “Okay, we”ve got about an hour until the dough”s stiff enough to handle.”

“Stiff enough to handle?”

Both women chuckled as Shelly slapped her knee in slapstick style at her own joke. “Get it? Stiff? Handle?”

Rayne grinned at her best friend. “Too funny. I set up you up, didn”t I?”

“You sure did. And I just couldn”t resist.”

Washing her hands, Rayne had to admit. Shelly”s wit was quick and funny.

“Time to open another bottle.” Shelly didn”t wait for Rayne to answer–not that she”d have objected–and uncorked another bottle. Filling both their glasses, she raised hers in the air and toasted, “Here”s to victories in the courtroom.”

“Here, here.” Rayne lifted her glass to the toast and then started to take a sip. “As long as my winning streak continues, I”m a happy woman.”

“And victories in the bedroom. God knows you need something to happen in there. Are you a happy woman in the sack?” Shelly backed up as Rayne sputtered, sending a spray of red wine over her blouse.

“Hey! Watch it.” As she finished wiping the splatters off her white now-turned-polka-dot-red blouse, she flipped the towel at her friend. “It takes long, lonely hours of research and preparation to win cases. I can”t help it if my work keeps me too busy to socialize.”

“Socialize?” Knowing Rayne would follow her, Shelly whirled and headed for the living room again where a three-foot-tall Christmas tree rested on a fold-out card table. “Lady, I don”t care if you find Mr. Right any time soon. But, judging from the fact that you”re going to bake a gingerbread man with a major johnson tells me you need to get some and get some soon.”

“I”m just having some fun.” Rayne wiggled the cord for the lights on the tree to get all of them blinking again. “Isn”t that what you wanted me to do?”

“Yeah, but with a real, flesh and blood man. Not one you can eat.”