Christmas Treats - A Collection of Holiday Rom-coms

by Piper Rayne

  “I, um…I met your kids last night. At Vera’s house before they left for practice.”

  Those gray irises light up with appreciation. “She’s been such a huge help with them. We’d never manage without her.”

  Based on what Vera’s told me, I don’t think she’d make it without them either. “Having five kids must keep you on your toes.”

  “Five makes things interesting,” he agrees as he scratches the back of his neck. “But, I have ten altogether, though.”

  “Ten kids?” The shriek leaves my throat before I can filter it, making me backpedal. “Sorry, that was...shrill.”

  A light chuckle breaks the awkwardness. “That’s the usual reaction, so I’m used to it.”

  Poor guy. He must have zero time for himself. “Well, I know I just met the first five last night,” I start, thinking of my experience with them. “But if the others are as helpful and polite as the ones I’ve already met, you’ve got a pretty good group of kids.”

  He smiles, pride apparent in his posture. “I’m glad they made a good first impression. You sure made one on Clay.” The last remark causes his face to twist.

  My brows knit together as I ponder what Clay might have told his father. “I did?”

  The comment off is waved off as his cheeks grow rosy. “That’s pretty much it. Any questions?”

  “Just one,” I add. “Think you could bag me up a few more of those biscottis Vera Kay brought home last night?”

  6

  Scott

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  I’ve asked myself this question every day for the past two months since Nova started working at the coffeehouse. No answers yet.

  I haven’t had any desire to look at another woman since Emma died. Now? I can’t keep my thoughts from straying to Nova.

  Get it together, Baker.

  I wish I could. Clay had it right when he described her. Her light blonde hair is styled into what I think they call a pixie cut, perfect for her delicate features. The amber flecks in her hazel irises and the almond shape of her eyes make them appear cat-like. Pouty lips that shine with her ever-present, strawberry-scented lip gloss. Her breasts and hips are curvy yet proportional to her petite frame.

  Nova’s a beauty for sure, but that’s not what draws me to her. It’s the way she is with my customers and my kids—even with me.

  Since she’s been here, I’ve attended more practices and games than I have in the past couple of years. Vera Kay was true to her word, helping Nova in the evenings and on the weekends so I could slip away and be a dad for a little while. I felt so guilty the first few times I left work early, but the surprised look on my kids’ faces when I told them I’d be coming to watch was the equivalent of winning the lottery. Seeing Griffin, Clay, and budding shortstop Hadley in action and getting to be there in the mix has revitalized my soul in ways I didn’t realize it needed.

  Harper even mentioned I’ve been smiling a lot more.

  It’s almost as if Nova’s woven a magic spell over everyone ever since she blew into town. Considering how quickly she caught onto the hang of things, I wouldn’t be surprised if she took over my job one day.

  It’s just temporary, remember? She’ll be leaving you in the spring—most likely for better things.

  Ignoring the twinge of sadness that sobering thought brings, I load the tray down with my latest creations for the two tables full of taste testers awaiting them. Strolling through the kitchen door, I catch a glimpse of Nova pouring fresh cups of coffee for the couple at the table by the front windows. As she passes back through, she checks on Linc, who has now taken to the art of napkin folding after she showed him a video on how to do it. Lincoln, whose heart is keener than his sense of direction, hasn’t broken a dish or knocked over anything in the shop for almost two weeks straight—a world record for him and a reprieve for my wallet. Plus, the customers love getting the handcrafted napkins with their drinks and snacks.

  Wins as far as the eye can see.

  The tables my kids occupy are scattered with homework, reading materials, and even Harper’s sketchbook, which she’s picked back up with Nova’s encouragement. Emma’s death was probably the hardest on Harper because I’ve had to lean on her so much with the younger ones. Since Nova’s been around, though, she’s been free to be a kid again for the most part. Her beautiful chalkboard sign that Nova helped her paint sits by the door, beckoning customers to come in and try out the new daily beverage and baked good combo.

  Jon Bon Java with a Roczki ‘n’ Roll biscotti is a massive hit with the coffee crowd, while Poe Me a Cup of Tea has won over the tea lovers, along with the aptly paired Absinthe-Minded shortbread.

  All thanks to our unofficial creative director, who’s also tasked the older kids with running the Baked & Brewed social media sites.

  Nova catches a glimpse of the tray I’m holding and asks the kids to clear the table. It’s funny because they all seem to respond quickly to her requests, whereas mine are sometimes met with resistance and groans.

  Nova may be barely pushing five feet, but she carries with her the presence of a giant.

  Vera Kay’s already laid down the groundwork, hinting that I should think about asking Nova out. She’s also quick to point out that someone will snatch her up quickly one day. However, the thoughts of mixing business with pleasure as well as our age difference give me pause. I’ve politely shot down the idea every time she’s mentioned it, much to her dismay and mine as well.

  That is until something happened last week that got me to thinking my advances towards her may not be totally turned down.

  One Week Ago

  We were working on a new Christmas-themed recipe for the Soiree. I had finally let Vera Kay talk me into entering, so when the conversation steered towards some unmarked territory, it gave us a chance to get to know one another while Vera manned the front of the shop that evening.

  “I think it’s wonderful you and Emma chose to adopt. Foster and adoptive families are so desperately needed,” Nova offered, hands working with the sticky biscotti dough as I readied the pans.

  She had just disclosed the details about her divorce and leaving Fresno, which made me want to wrap my arms around her and my hands around her ex-husband’s throat. What a dick.

  “It gave us the family we always wanted. We tried to conceive for a while before we found out that Emma couldn’t have any. A friend of ours had recently started the fostering process, so after talking with them, we decided to follow in their footsteps.” Emma and I had thought maybe we’d get matched up with one, possibly two kids, and would see what happened. “Imagine our surprise when we got the call that a sibling group of five needed placement.”

  “That must’ve been overwhelming.”

  “It was scary as hell,” I admitted, garnering a chuckle from us both. “We went from no children to five in the blink of an eye. It was only supposed to be for a few days, but those days turned into months, then a year. After getting to know the kids and falling in love with each of them, we checked into adoption.”

  “Were the kids excited?”

  “For the most part, yes. Halle, Henry, and Hadley were on board immediately, but it took a bit of convincing Harper and Holden. I think they secretly hoped their mom would take them back.” Given what we’d been told about the mother’s past, we knew she wouldn’t push against the adoption. “We had just gotten everything finalized when Emma’s sister and brother-in-law died in a car accident, leaving behind Griffin and Clay.”

  Nova’s face fell, laced with sympathy as she peered towards the front of the shop where the kids were. “That’s awful.”

  “It was a tough time for everyone. The boys had a rough time adjusting, especially Griffin—he was in the accident with them.” Griffin never speaks about it, but it’s been a source of major trauma and pushes him to keep pretty much everyone at arm’s length. “They had just dropped Clay off at a friend’s house and were on their way to the store. A tractor-traile
r jackknifed on the wet roads, and…” I trailed off, not wanting to relive that devastating day. “It took him a long time to get him to say more than a few words at a time after that.”

  “So, what about the other three?” she asked, washing her hands over the stainless steel sink as I wrapped the dough.

  “Linc, Laurel, and LaRue are my brother’s kids.”

  “Did he…” she probed carefully, obviously trying not to overstep any boundaries.

  “My brother’s always had a checkered past, but he finally got himself into a mess he couldn’t talk his way out of this last time.” Her eyes were wide as I continued, “Lincoln’s mom died of a drug overdose when he was little, which left him with Jason. He got clean for a while and was doing well until he met Laurel and LaRue’s mom.

  Bad combination. “She got pregnant with the girls not long after they got together. Long story short, they thought it would be a good idea to start running drugs to make some cash and fuel their habits. CPS had already been involved, unbeknownst to us. When they got caught with a mess of drugs and a stolen gun while blitzed out of their minds during a traffic stop, they were locked away.”

  “And that brought the kids to your doorstep,” she deduced.

  “I’m just glad we were able to take them all in. It was a crazy ride, that’s for certain. We made it work until Emma had the brain aneurysm.” I swallowed the lump that was choking those last few words.

  She paused for a moment before laying her petite hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Scott.”

  “Thank you,” I sighed, grateful to have unloaded some of this burden on willing ears. As she lifted her hand from my shoulder, I couldn’t help but to wish it had remained where it was. The effect that simple touch had on other parts of my body was unmistakable as well. Looking down to make sure my apron was loose enough to hide those effects, I cleared my throat and tried to shake away some of these 13-year-old teen-like nerves that only surface whenever she’s near. “It’s not been easy, but I wouldn’t trade having them for anything in the world. Like I said, your aunt saved us all by stepping in when she did.”

  Her eyes squinted as they always do when she grins. “The kids seem so smitten with her.”

  “It’s hard not to love her, but even that took some time.” Go ahead and say it, Baker. Test the waters. “To be honest,” I began, peering straight into eyes, “I’ve never seen anyone win them over as quickly as you.”

  I didn’t miss the way the blush traveled up her neck to her heart-shaped face. “They are all extraordinary kids. I’m lucky to know them.” Something in the way she looked at me made me think she wanted to say more, even though she didn’t.

  “Well, they’re lucky to have met you.” Nervous I’d scare her away, I held my tongue, scared to admit that I was too.

  There’s just something about Nova that puts a person’s soul at ease. You feel like you can tell her anything and never once have to worry about it being broadcast all over town. I’ve never been comfortable enough around anyone else since Emma to disclose all that. Her presence is a comfort I’ve grown way too fond of in too short a time.

  Maybe Vera Kay sees something that I couldn’t at first.

  I shake away the thought as I set the tray down to ten drooling kids, who dig in without any qualms. A hush falls over the crowd as I await their verdicts.

  “Dad!” Harper exclaims. “These are awesome!”

  Red and green dots grace the cookies that are being grabbed left and right. I take in the nodding heads of varying sizes, some of whom belong to picky eaters. Breathing a sigh of relief, I add them to the list of potential entries.

  Now to worry about the rest of the shop.

  “Nova, you’re gonna come watch us at the championship, right?” Hadley asks with a mouth half full of biscotti, breaking the moment. Giving her a look that makes her close her mouth, I glance at Nova, curious to hear her response.

  She flicks her stunning eyes at me, then back to kids. “I’ll stay back so your dad can watch, but I’m sure he’ll record it for me.”

  I silently curse her impressive work ethic and willingness to give up going so I can attend.

  That is until Clay offers a solution. “Dad, can the coffeehouse be closed long enough for everyone to come to the game?” his brown eyes plead as he whines. “Pleeeeease?!”

  With ten expectant stares waiting for a response, twelve if you count Nova’s and Vera Kay’s, I offer the only answer I can. “I think we can spare a few hours.”

  A chorus of “yesses” rings out over the two tables, all except Griffin, who offers a rare smile instead. “What do you say, Nova?” I probe, hoping she’s down for a Baker family outing. “Can we take you out to the ballgame?”

  She chuckles at my play on words, then looks at the kids, who wait patiently for her to respond. “I’ll be there with bells on.” The kids cheer her answer a lot louder than they did the biscottis, but I count both in the win column.

  Who knows? Maybe we’ll go for a triple when I ask her out to dinner after the game on Saturday.

  7

  Nova

  What a game! The kids’ team squeaked out a win over the Wilstead Wombats, thanks in part to some excellent footwork at shortstop, a star pitcher, and a kid with a talent for knocking the stitching loose from a baseball.

  These Baker kids are something else.

  I’m a bit nervous because of the surprise Vera Kay and I have devised for Scott. Ever since he agreed to participate in the Soiree, we hatched a plan to pull Silverton together behind the coffeehouse. In need of decor to spruce up the shop and get it Soiree-ready, Vera Kay reached out to some local business owners and shopkeepers to see if they’d like some “free” advertising since the Soiree promises to bring some out-of-towners into Silverton.

  The only cost to Baked & Brewed? A drink created for and named in each donor’s honor, along with a small plaque acknowledging where you could purchase the displayed items or get custom-made ones. The local nursery even agreed to donate some greenery around the big event, so everything is pretty much set.

  I only hope Scott will be excited when we tell him about the plan tonight.

  Once the kids finish posing for the group picture with the first-place trophy, they jog over from the field. Well, Clay cartwheels and dances his way over, but still...

  “Great job, everyone!” I cheer as I wrap my arms around our three players in a group hug. “I’m so proud of you all!” Clay snuggles into me, Griffin lets me put my arm over his shoulder but doesn’t return the movement, and Hadley rounds out the front.

  I glance up and find a pair of gray eyes surveying the scene. Scott looks like a proud papa bear, with all ten cubs intermingling and celebrating the victory of a few. It’s the kind of feel-good movie moment you want to live in forever.

  It’s the kind of moment I wouldn’t mind being a part of many times over, especially if it involves this family.

  Slowly, we make our way to each other through the crowd of kids whooping and hollering, obviously drunk on adrenaline and copious amounts of sugar consumed from the concession stand. I lean towards Scott’s ear, hoping he’ll be able to hear me over the commotion. “After we get back to the shop, is it okay if we talked?”

  He pulls back to look at me, then bends towards my ear. “There’s something I’ve wanted to discuss with you as well.” Straightening his back, he calls out over my head, “Great game, Coach!” as a familiar face makes an appearance.

  Grey Kasen walks over to join us, giving Scott a firm handshake. “That last hit by Win Griffey, Jr. right here was a lifesaver,” he teases, clapping a hand on Griffin’s shoulder.

  His face is stone set as always, though it’s hard to deny those hints of pride shine through as Griffin basks in his coach’s praise.

  “Miss Nova, it’s good to see you again. Still able to find the right address?” His teasing nature beams as we lightheartedly banter.

  “Just look for the big metal rooster, right?” I laugh as
he snorts. Scott’s gaze bounces between us as if wondering what the connection might be.

  “You got it,” Grey winks with a charm that seems to come naturally to him.

  Multiple pairs of eyes hone in on us, among them a set belonging to my aunt, who looks like she might be up to no good. “Grey, it’s a shame, you know.”

  “What’s that, Miss Vera?” he asks as he gives her a big hug.

  Her eyes twitch from Scott to me, then back to Grey. “Well, my Nova here’s been in town for two months and still doesn’t know her way around. Think you’d be able to take her on a guided tour.”

  The air gets sucked out of the space we all occupy. I lift my eyes in Scott’s direction, noticing the slight clench in his jaw.

  Grey awkwardly chuckles, before acquiescing as the silence goes on. “Always willing to help out a new neighbor.”

  But that doesn’t seem to satisfy Vera Kay. “Now that I think about it, Gratzi’s just remodeled not too long ago. Why don’t you two kids go grab a bite after you show her around town?” What is she doing? “Is Saturday good for you?”

  “Well, I…” he stammers, completely taken aback by this forwardness of my aunt’s. When I go to shut down this nonsense, he blurts out, “I’m helping a friend Saturday morning and afternoon with something.”

  Shew! Crisis averted.

  “Great!” she cheers. “Nova gets off work at seven. You can pick her up at Baked & Brewed.”

  For the love of Pete... “I don’t want to impose on Grey’s time, Aunt Vera,” I argue, which seems to fall on deaf ears.

  “Nonsense! If there’s anyone who can show you a good time, it’s this man right here.” Her wink at Grey catapults her through the crowd with Laurel and LaRue toddling beside her, but not before throwing over her shoulder, “See you next Saturday.”

  Scott looks as though he’s equal parts pissed and disappointed, but at what, I can’t decide. The remaining kids volley their eyes between all the adults, probably wondering what just transpired. Hell, I wish I knew.