Tasting Her Christmas Cookies: A Holiday Romantic Comedy
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Tasting Her Christmas Cookies
A Holiday Romantic Comedy
Alina Jacobs
Contents
Other books by Alina Jacobs
Synopsis
Acknowledgments
Mailing List
1. Holly
2. Owen
3. Holly
4. Owen
5. Holly
6. Owen
7. Holly
8. Owen
9. Holly
10. Owen
11. Holly
12. Owen
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72. Owen
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76. Owen
77. Holly
Sneak peek
Tasting Her Chocolate Cake
1. Holly
2. Owen
Read Tasting Her Chocolate Cake
Sugar Cookie Recipe
About the Author
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©2019 by Alina Jacobs
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Created with Vellum
Other books by Alina Jacobs
Check out other books about characters mentioned in this one on my website:
http://alinajacobs.com/books.html
Synopsis
Owen
Winter is coming—and unfortunately it's bringing Christmas with it.
I loathe the holiday. I hate holiday parties, fragrant decorations, and hokey movies. If I had my way it would be winter all year round and never Christmas.
Nothing burns like the cold—except a hot oven.
That's right; against my better judgment I agreed to let The Great Christmas Bake-Off film in my tower.
And St. Nick help me but I even agreed to be a judge.
Holly
Christmas is like the perfect sugar cookie—it slowly melts in your mouth, sweetening every taste bud, making you wish it could last forever.
I love Christmas. I love the cheerful music, the fun sweaters, and the holiday lights. Most of all I love Christmas Cookies.
A begrudging bake-off judge, I refuse to let grouchy billionaire Owen Frost hate Christmas. The man is overworked, his employees are uninspired, and his life is seriously lacking in Yuletide cheer. I want to stuff his stocking with sugary goodness to put him in a very festive mood.
So I dressed up as a sexy elf and gave Owen a taste of something extra special. You should have seen his eyes roll back in his head when he bit into the perfect sugar cookie!
I can't let Owen Frost be a distraction. Things are insane enough without a sexy billionaire.
My baking subscription service is in the death throes.
My Christmas-ruining step sister is trying to sabotage me in the bake-off.
I'm being stalked by elves on the shelf come to life.
Ok that last one is a little weird, but welcome to my disaster of a life.
I need to win The Great Christmas Bake-Off to pay of my debts and launch my baking career. Sleeping with one of the judges is going to ruin my chance for a merry Christmas. Owen with his washboard abs and big Christmas package is a bad idea. It's best to keep that all wrapped under the tree.
But when he said in that deep, sexy voice, "Can I have another taste of your Christmas cookies?" Well, let's just say I'm unwrapping one particular Christmas present early!
Tasting Her Christmas Cookies is a standalone holiday romantic comedy. If you love Christmas desserts, like to laugh out loud at holiday innuendoes, and want Santa to put a tall, good-looking guy under your tree, then pick up this full-length, steamy romance novel! There are no cliffhangers but there is a very happy (Christmas!) ever after!
To my great-aunt, whose cookie recipe inspired this story!
Acknowledgments
A big thank you to Red Adept Editing for editing and proofreading.
And finally a big thank you to all the readers! I had a great time writing this hilarious book! Please try not to choke on your wine while reading!!!
Mailing List
Read the short romantic comedy, TASTING HER CHOCOLATE CAKE, along with other novellas and short stories for free when you join my mailing list!
alinajacobs.com/mailinglist.html
1
Holly
Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. My first Christmas memory is when my mom dropped me off at my grandmother's house then took off to find herself. Talk about being home for Christmas! The tiny 1950s-style bungalow was stuffed with all things yuletide: lights in every window, a nutcracker collection on the bookcase, and antique ornaments on the Christmas trees in every room. To six-year-old me, it was magical, though in hindsight it might have been veering dangerously into Hoarders territory.
Even more magical was how none of those decorations came down in January. The neighbors complained bitterly when Granny’s elaborate nativity scene lit up the sky in August. But my grandmother loved all things Christmas. Some might even call her a fanatic. Every six weeks, she even installed a whole new set of Christmas trees, supplied by her boyfriend, who owned a tree farm. Every night, I would drift off to sleep lulled by the blinking lights. That kicked off eight years of nonstop Christmas, and it was just the way I liked it. My grandmother and I baked cookies, decorated wreaths, and sang carols all day every day.
I didn't see my mother again until I was fourteen and my grandmother died. Granny and her Christmas tree farmer boyfriend were doing a raunchy role-play of Mr. and Mrs. Claus. She went with a smile on her face and cookie crumbs on her collar. Best way to go if you ask me. My mom missed the Christmas-themed funeral. I barely had time to pack all of my grandmother's decorations into a way-too-expensive storage unit before my mother dragged me back to her new husband and his deranged teen daughter.
They did not love Christmas. Instead of nonstop wholesomeness
and baking Christmas goodies, it was nonstop drama revolving around my crazy stepsister, Amber.
I would be minding my own business, baking Christmas cookies and watching Holiday in Handcuffs in July, as one does, and Amber would storm into the kitchen, accusing me of trying to move into her territory because I dared to talk to some guy she liked. We had a group project, Amber, so I don't know, excuse me for trying to not flunk out of high school.
Ahem. Got a little carried away.
My stepfather regularly threatened to cancel Christmas when he would hear us arguing. One year he actually did, picking up the Christmas tree and throwing it out onto the street in a fit of teenage-girl-drama-fueled rage. He also threw out his back, prolonging the Christmas misery.
But my Christmas cheer would not be snuffed! As soon as I could, I escaped that house and into the money-burning embrace of culinary school. When you think about Christmas, what do you think of first? The presents? The twinkling lights? The happy families gathered around the fire? For me, it was the desserts. I loved the rich cakes, exquisitely decorated cookies, and homemade candy. Desserts were my specialty. I could make a buttercream so stable you could caulk a tub with it. My piecrusts would add years to your life, and I have been told my sugar cookies will cause a religious experience.
I wanted to be the next Christina Tosi with Milk Bar or Chloe Barnard with Gray Dove Bakery, but my big break as a dessert chef never happened. After graduation, I took a series of jobs at restaurants that were all horrible and awful in their own unique special way.
Somewhere around chopping my thousandth pound of onions to the tune of an angry chef screaming at the dishwashers, I realized I only had so many Christmases left—and I wanted to spend them baking. So I quit my job and started a subscription baking company. Every month, my subscribers received a beautiful box filled with yummy baked goods in the mail. I had a kick-ass Instagram account with beautiful photos. I was on my way to success!
And just to spoil it, yeah, turns out that wasn't a smart decision. I was up to my eyeballs in credit card debt before you could say “deck the halls.” I had started hemorrhaging money out of the gate. New York was expensive, and I was illegally subletting a bed in a studio apartment plus renting a shared kitchen space. My subscriber numbers were in the toilet, and I had had to resort to posting slightly raunchy photos on Instagram to generate any visibility. My costumes were starting to border on bodice ripping due to the amount of unpurchased desserts I ate. The topper on the Christmas tree? Someone had complained to code enforcement and we had all been evicted from the shared studio.
And lo on the third day of the month before Christmas did my true love give to me a mountain of debt, a failing business, and a Christmas stocking’s worth of broken dreams.
But I had one more cookie in my arsenal. I had managed to secure a spot in The Great Christmas Bake-Off. There was a huge payout for the winner, enough to wipe out my debts, including the payments I was behind on for the storage unit with my grandmother's Christmas decorations. Best of all, it came with housing.
It was a new Christmas season! This was my last chance, my big moment. I had to win the bake-off. Christmas and my grandmother's beloved holiday decorations were on the line.
“I am going to win The Great Christmas Bake-Off!” I yelled out. I was in front of a huge tower with a sign on top that said Quantum Cyber. It glowed against the grey winter sky. Some billionaire trying to overcompensate for his tiny Christmas package probably built the skyscraper. Still, it was going to be my home away from—well, basically just my only home for as long as I was in the bake-off.
A Goth girl was leaning against the door inside the sterile lobby space, inspecting the black polish on her nails. She let out an exaggerated sigh when I walked into the building, dragging all my worldly possessions behind me on a trolley.
“Once again we come to the worst holiday season,” my friend Morticia said. People always found her strange and a little scary. And once you got to know her… you realized your first impressions were in fact correct.
“Santa's going to bring you a lump of coal,” I said, hugging her.
“Better coal than anything related to the Christmas bake-off,” she complained. “You should see these people. You better win every round so I'm not stuck here by myself!”
“How's your decorating job going?” I asked her as she picked up one of the bags that was listing on the tower of boxes on the cart.
“I'm a serious artist. The only reason I'm here wasting my talents is because Penny McCarthy wanted me to help her with the Vanity Rag videos. They're partnering with the bake-off.”
“How's your foster sister?”
“Snagged herself a billionaire. She's very proud,” Morticia replied dryly.
I followed Morticia to the bank of elevators. She pulled a key card out of a purse shaped like a spider. If Christmas was my holiday, Halloween was Morticia's. She even had extra black lipstick on to combat all the Christmas cheer floating around.
“I can't believe I made it through,” I said as the elevator took us to the 95th floor of the building.
“It's because of your Instagram account. Seriously, Santa is bringing you clothes and a Bible for Christmas,” she said, adjusting the spiky choker she was wearing.
“My Instagram account brings in a lot of subscribers for the Taste My Muffin baking box,” I retorted.
“I'm sure, especially seeing that sexy pilgrim outfit you posted yesterday on Thanksgiving.”
“Hey, I got a hundred new subscribers thanks to that picture. All the boys want to buy my baked goods.”
Morticia smirked. “They're paying to taste your cookies.”
2
Owen
Christmastime—darkness, death, holiday parties. Thanksgiving wasn't even over—I still had leftovers in my fridge—yet here I was at the season's first holiday party. It was for the kickoff of TechBiz magazine's annual ranking of the best technology companies to work for. The magazine was trying to stir up press for the competition. The rankings were big news in the business world. But why it had to be rolled into a Christmas party was beyond me.
It was a typical generic corporate Christmas party. Here was the spread of cured meats and cheese, there a punch bowl of warm eggnog.
“Do you want a sip?” a woman in a tailored skirt suit asked, slinking up to me.
“No, thank you, Sloane.”
“You know I’m on the selection committee,” she said craftily, drifting her manicured fingernails up my suit jacket sleeve. “Maybe if we have a repeat of our date from a few months ago, I could put in a good word for you.” She licked her lips.
I tamped down a shudder. I'd gone on one date with Sloane six months ago, and she hadn't left me alone since. Thankfully, Evan Harrington, whose hedge fund owned the magazine, stepped up onto the stage.
“They're about to start the presentation,” Sloane said, turning to leave but not before her hand brushed dangerously close to my belt buckle.
“You sure you don't want to give her another shot?” Walker, my chief operations officer joked, nudging me as he returned from the snack table. “You're getting older.”
“I’m not that old,” I hissed as Evan clinked his glass for our attention.
“Your younger brother Jack is going to be engaged any day now,” Walker whispered back. He was a Svensson. There was an excessive number of them, and they were all brothers—or half brothers in some instances—and they were all obnoxious, from the smallest, cutest little boys to the biggest, meanest Svenssons, who currently had a sizable portion of my company by the balls. Greg and Hunter Svensson had originally invested in my company and owned a large percentage of it. I tried to give them a wide berth.
“At the very least, she could give Quantum Cyber good marks in the contest,” Walker said out of the side of his mouth. “Greg's not happy with the recruiting numbers. He and Hunter are afraid we're going to lose our edge.”
“We're not losing our edge,” I hissed back. A
server came around with desserts. I waved her away. I was not a sweets person. Walker took two of the mini donuts covered with chocolate frosting and red and green sprinkles.
“Thank you all for coming,” Evan said into the microphone. “We like to think the TechBiz list of the best places to work in the tech industry makes or breaks companies. Recruitment season for this year's graduates is starting in a couple of months. Ninety-nine percent of grads say that they use our detailed write-up and ranking system to decide which companies to accept an offer from or to even bother applying to. It's also used when smaller start-ups decide to sell. So put your best foot forward! I hear Holbrook Enterprises is the company to beat!”