by Olivia Miles
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A Preview of One Week to the Wedding
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To Avery
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank my editor, Michele Bidelspach, for her insight and enthusiasm, and for helping me to make this book the best it could be. No one understands my characters or this series better, and I’m forever grateful to have her dependable ear when I need it. I’d also like to thank my agent, Paige Wheeler, for her support and perseverance and for helping to make this book possible.
Thank you to my copyeditor, Lori Paximadis; my production editor, Carolyn Kurek; and everyone at Grand Central who had a part in bringing this story to life.
Special thanks as always to my friends and family who continue to cheer me on. And of course, thank you to my readers for welcoming my characters and for spending a little time in a fictional town that has started to feel like home to me.
CHAPTER 1
The wind whipped down Main Street, stirring up gusts of snow that swirled and danced in the glow of the lamplights and landed on the fresh spruce wreaths secured to each post by a red velvet ribbon. Inside Sugar and Spice, the air was warm and fragrant, the music low but festive, and the mood positively cheerful.
Well, mostly cheerful.
Each morning, when Kara Hastings tied on her crisp cotton apron and started her first batch of cookies for the day, she felt energized and excited, but by the time dusk fell, she struggled to remember what she had been thinking, starting her own bakery right before the holiday rush.
Nonsense. This is what she had wanted! A cookie business all her own. Days spent in the kitchen, creating new flavors and taste-testing samples. But hours upon hours on her feet were taking a toll and oh, how she longed to snuggle under her warm duvet, pop in a Christmas movie, maybe pour a little eggnog, and—
Nope. No time for that. Not when she planned to get a head start on her gingerbread house kits tonight. Her sister-in-law Grace had offered to sell some at Main Street Books, and Briar Creek’s first annual Holiday Bazaar was just days away. Kara had envisioned dozens of gingerbread kits, all wrapped and ready for sale, tied with a big satin bow, and trays upon trays of cookies in every shape and flavor.
Kara eyed her display case with a critical eye. She’d nearly sold out again, and she’d box up the rest for a late-night snack, if she didn’t collapse into bed before she had a chance to pop the top. She frowned, thinking of the nightmare she’d had last night where she spilled the flour canister and couldn’t find any more to replace it, and then she’d mixed the sugar with the salt… And then people stopped coming by and she had to close the business.
It was just what they all assumed would happen, Kara thought as she bit into a chewy oatmeal cookie. It tasted sweet and buttery with hints of cinnamon and spice. Her father’s favorite, she recalled, conjuring up a murky memory of mixing dough with him in the kitchen. He didn’t cook, and he was lousy at cleaning up, but he loved making cookies with his three children, especially at Christmas.
Kara smiled sadly to herself when she thought of her dad. It was because of him that she had this place and because of him that she worked as hard as she did to make it a success.
She swallowed the last bite of cookie, wiped her hands on her apron, and looked up at the ceiling. “Oatmeal spice. Just for you, Dad.”
She turned the sign on the front door to CLOSED and marched back to the kitchen, just in time for the oven buzzer to alert her that the latest batch of gingerbread was ready. Sliding on her red ticking stripe oven mitts, she pulled the tray from the oven and began carefully transferring each piece of gingerbread to the cooling rack.
One down… four to go, she calculated as she popped the next sheet into the oven and set the timer, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. Even with the multiple ovens, she’d be here for another couple of hours. She made a mug of peppermint hot chocolate and took a seat at one of the small tables in the storefront to work on the decoration part of her kits: clear plastic tubes filled with colorful sprinkles, packets of glistening gumdrops and other candies, and an instruction sheet she’d designed herself, complete with stamps of little gingerbread men dancing their way down the paper.
A knock on the door startled her and caused her to spill some candies on the floor. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to shoo away a last-minute customer hoping to pick up a quick item for a holiday party or school event. Flustered, she looked up to see her sister Molly waving through the glass, her hand covered in a thick red mitten that was nearly the same color as her nose. Kara hurried to unlock the door and let her in.
“I didn’t think you were coming back until tomorrow!” she said excitedly. She could still feel the chill on her sister’s wool coat when they hugged.
“I decided to come back a day early.” Molly grinned at her as she pulled back. Her blue eyes lit up as she looked around the room. “Wow, you’ve done a lot with this place since the last time I saw it.”
It was true. In the three months since she’d signed the lease, Kara had gradually added to the shop, slowly bringing it to life. For the holiday season, she’d decorated with a candy cane theme, focusing on glittering red and pink ornaments that went nicely with her pink and white logo. Most customers picked up cookies to take home, but a few liked to stay and enjoy them. This made her nervous at first, but she was yet to hear a complaint, and now she looked forward to the company.
Someday she’d like to hire an assistant, someone to manage the storefront while she did the baking in the kitchen. But for now, until she could afford it, she was on her own.
In every possible way, she thought a bit sadly. One by one her friends and family members were pairing off, getting married, and she… well, she was still waiting for Mr. Right, even if she’d long ago stopped looking.
She shook away the thought. She was getting sentimental. The holidays were good for doing that. It was too easy to notice all the couples cozily holding hands as they walked down Main Street or shared a cookie in her shop, arguing over which one to try. Too easy to then notice how quiet her apartment was, night after night.
She supposed she should be grateful she was so busy. She was almost too busy to notice. Almost.
“I guess that’s what I get for not coming home for Thanksgiving.” Molly flashed a rueful smile and brushed past Kara to the glass display case, which was mostly cleared out by this hour. Snow still rested on her red knit hat as she shook her head and bent down to admire one of Kara’s newest Christmas offerings. “These gingerbread houses are too cute. Such detail!”
Kara grinned. She took special care in making sure each one was unique. It kept things interesting, and also helped her to challenge herself. She was learning as she went, experimenting, really, and she had a long road in front of her. Hopefully.
“Will you make me one?” Molly asked, turning to give her a hope-filled smile, and Kara burst out laughing. The youngest of the three siblings, Molly had never been shy to ask for what she wanted. But this was one time Kara was putting her foot down. Time was getting away from her, and the holiday demands were more stressful than she’d prepared herself for. Even i
f some of it, like the gingerbread houses, was of her own doing.
“If I have any left over after Christmas, then yes, you can have one.” The chances of it weren’t likely, though. She’d originally made this one for her counter, just for decoration, but the reaction she’d had from the customers had opened up a new possibility, and a whole lot of work to boot. She was now selling at least a few a day, in addition to her kits and cookie sales.
“Maybe you can set one aside for me,” Molly suggested.
Again, Kara laughed, though this time, she was less amused. “Nice try. Come on back to the kitchen. You can help me roll out dough.”
“Okay, but I can’t stay for long. Mom is expecting me in time for dinner.”
“So you told her you were coming in a day early and not me?” Kara stopped at the marble counter and stared at her sister, who stood in the doorway to the kitchen, still wrapped up in her scarf.
“I tried calling you.” Molly plucked a cookie from a tray but hesitated as she brought it to her mouth. “Can I?”
Kara waved her hand through the air. The shop was closed now; no use letting things go to waste, and that one was a little burned around the edges, which was why it hadn’t gone out with the rest. “Yes, go ahead.” She pulled a plastic-wrapped ball of dough from the fridge and brought it over to the center island, sighing when she thought of the work ahead.
“Didn’t you get my messages?” Molly asked, licking the crumbs from her fingers.
Kara coated the counter surface with flour and did the same with her rolling pin. “I saw you called, but no, I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to listen to the messages.” She hadn’t even had time to eat lunch, unless you counted nine cookies around three o’clock to be a square meal.
“Well, can you take off early to come to dinner? Luke and Grace will be there, too,” Molly said, referring to their brother and his wife.
Kara sighed. She hated letting the people in her family down, but lately, she didn’t seem to have much choice. “Can I take a rain check?”
Molly’s face fell and for a moment Kara saw a flash of that five-year-old girl who had a way of getting the last piece of cake, even though it was left over from Kara’s birthday. She quickly did the math, estimating the number of hours she had left tonight. She supposed she could slip out to dinner, then come back, work until about two-thirty, then get a few hours of sleep before being back at six tomorrow… She blinked. What was she thinking?
“I’m sorry, Molly, but I didn’t know you were coming back early, and I have about four more hours of work here before I’m done for the night.”
“Can’t it wait?” Molly pressed. “I just got home!”
Kara felt her shoulders sag. She only saw her sister a few times a year, and she would love nothing more than to lock up and reconnect over a glass of wine. “I’m sorry, but no.”
“Oh, fine.”
From the corner of her eye, Kara could see Molly’s exaggerated pout. Don’t give in. If you give in, you’ll be here all night. Besides, even if she did slip out for a bit, she’d hardly be able to enjoy herself, worrying about all the work she still had to do.
“I just couldn’t wait to see everyone and share my news,” Molly said casually, playing with the fringe on her scarf.
Kara stopped rolling the dough. It was another well-practiced tactic of her sister’s, and this time it worked.
“What’s the news?” she asked, wiping a loose strand of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand.
Molly’s smile turned sly as her blue eyes began to gleam. “I’m engaged!” she squealed, jumping up and down. Stepping toward Kara, she plucked her other mitten free and fluttered her fingers in front of Kara’s face, showing off a huge diamond ring.
Kara stared in stunned silence, trying to take in the overwhelming amount of information coming at her all at once. She knew her sister was looking for a reaction, for Kara to be jumping up and down with her, squealing right along, but her mind was spinning, and the ring was flashing, catching the bright overhead lights, and all she could manage was, “To who?”
Molly’s eyes widened. “To my boyfriend, of course.” She took a step back, her shoulders slumping. “Todd.”
“Todd.” Kara nodded slowly. “I thought you two broke up last year.”
Molly dismissed this statement with a wave of her hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t say we broke up. We were just taking a break.”
Given the tear-filled midnight phone calls, the chocolate Kara sent via overnight post when Molly insisted it would make her feel better, the trip Kara had taken to Boston to wallow with her pale sister in a bed that hadn’t been made in weeks, Kara would stand to disagree with Molly’s hindsight view of that time in her life, but she said nothing, because what could she say?
“Congratulations,” she said, shaking away her confusion. She smiled a little wider. “Congratulations, honey!”
“Hopefully the rest of the family will be more excited for me than you are,” Molly said, quickly shoving her hands back into her mittens.
Kara took a step toward her sister and set her hand on her shoulder. “You caught me by surprise, that’s all. I had no idea you two were even back together. But I’m happy for you, Molly. Honestly I am.”
Molly smiled. “I knew I could count on you. And that’s why I want you to be my maid of honor.”
“Me?” It was the obvious choice, given that they were sisters, but Kara was still trying to process the fact that her sister was getting married at all. Her younger sister. Married. Deep down she’d always thought she’d be next in line, even though she hadn’t dated in… forever. Who was there to date in Briar Creek? Childhood friends? That didn’t sit right somehow. And the handful of dating experiences she’d had over the years with men from neighboring towns hadn’t lasted more than a matter of months, and none had made her heart soar the way she thought it should.
“I’m thinking winter. Valentine’s Day. Won’t that be romantic?”
That was two months away. “So soon?”
“Why wait?” Molly looked at her quizzically. “Anyway, we’ll have lots to go over while I’m in town. Guest lists. Wedding dress shopping. Flowers… I’m depending on you, Kara. Please say you’ll help me!”
“Considering you write for a bridal magazine, I doubt I can be much help,” Kara began.
“But it wouldn’t be any fun without you,” Molly replied, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.
Kara looked into her sister’s pleading gaze and tried to ignore the knot of panic that had formed deep in her gut and the sirens that were going off in her head reminding her of everything she had to do and how little time she had to do it.
The oven. That wasn’t a siren. That sound was the buzzer going off.
Kara hurried to grab her oven mitts, but by the time she had flung open the door, she could see she was just a minute too late. The edges of the gingerbread were dark, and nothing could be done to salvage them. She’d have to redo the batch.
Kara dropped the tray onto the counter and willed herself not to cry. It was just exhaustion taking over, making her emotional. Making her think about throwing in not just the towel but the oven mitts, too.
Beside her, Molly was still waiting for a response, her eyes wide and earnest, her smile so bright that Kara felt ashamed of herself for even feeding into her own problems. Her sister was getting married. Her only sister. If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t she be shouting it from the rooftops, wanting Molly to match her enthusiasm?
“I can’t think of a better way to spend the holidays,” Kara said through a desperate smile, and she was immediately rewarded with a whoop of delight and a long, hard hug.
“Thank you, thank you!” Molly cried. She pulled her hat back on her head, talking quickly. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Or stop by. Or maybe I’ll stop by tonight. If I’m not too tired. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” She clapped her hands, the sound muted through the thick wool, and then shook two clenched fists in front of he
r to underscore her joy before turning and disappearing through the kitchen door, leaving Kara alone once more.
Kara stared at the ball of gingerbread dough, still waiting to be rolled out, and sighed. Christmas had just become a little crazier.
It was past ten by the time Nate Griffin pulled to a stop in front of the white mansion across from a snow-covered town square. He sat in his car, tense from the drive, and took a few minutes to decompress before he dared to knock on those front doors. Or did one just let themselves into a B&B? Not one to patronize small-town inns, he wasn’t sure of proper etiquette. He’d knock, he decided, though no doubt his aunt was already staring out the window, tapping her foot, wondering what was taking him so long.
No good deed, he thought, dragging out a sigh. He’d thought he was off the hook for the holidays this year. And yet here he was. In Briar Creek. For the next two weeks.
And Briar Creek loved Christmas. At least, that’s what his aunt had told him when he announced his visit. The poor woman probably thought she was selling him on something, when all she was doing was making him wonder again why he’d sent his parents on that Mediterranean cruise, so carefully planned, booked specifically for the season as a Christmas gift—to both his parents and himself. It was the perfect coup, until his father had to go and suggest he spend the holiday with Aunt Maggie, because they couldn’t bear the thought of either of them being alone…
He’d tried to point out that Maggie never spent Christmas with them anyway. Christmases were spent as just the three of them, year after year after year. But then his mother had pointed out that this year they had intended to spend it at her inn in Briar Creek, and oh, she’d be so disappointed. And she had that hernia after all. And she really was looking forward to it. And oh, Briar Creek was such a charming town…
Charming indeed. Dead was more like it. On his drive through town—if you could even call it that—the lights were out in every storefront he passed, even the few restaurants. Only one light glowed in the otherwise empty stretch—from a bakery.
