by Olivia Miles
Nate watched her for a few blocks and then turned, shaking his head. And people wondered why he hated Christmas.
Kara knew that crying over broken cookies was right up there with crying over spilled milk, but she couldn’t help it. She was exhausted, and the thought of making another three dozen snowflake cookies for the inn—before tea time!—was enough to make her march back to the bakery and hang the CLOSED sign on the door. For good.
Bells jingled as she pushed open the door of Main Street Books. She stomped the snow off her boots on the mat as her sister-in-law finished ringing up a customer. Sweet cinnamon bread and fresh coffee wafted from the adjacent café, but it did little to lift her spirits.
“Why so glum?” Grace asked as she came around the counter.
“Some tourist just crashed into me on my way here and he… he broke my cookies.” Not just some tourist, though, she thought. More like a really hot tourist. A face she’d certainly never seen before. Her heart sped up when she thought of that square jaw, the crinkle of concern at the corners of his deep-set eyes. That mouth.
Then she thought of the cookies. Crumbled and cracked, after she’d worked so hard on making them just so. God knew Mrs. Griffin inspected each and every one. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, but any concern she had that she was being wholly ridiculous vanished when Grace’s expression crumbled and she pulled Kara in for a much needed hug.
“Were they for a delivery?” Grace asked when she let her go.
Kara nodded slowly. “For Main Street Bed and Breakfast. Mrs. Griffin is going to kill me!”
Grace didn’t argue with that. Mrs. Griffin was a strong-minded businesswoman and a difficult person to please. She had high standards, ones Kara clearly wasn’t going to live up to today. She could just imagine the passing comment to her mother…
“Have you told her yet?”
“No.” Kara sighed and set the bag of—fortunately undamaged—gingerbread house kits on the counter. “But I have to tell her. She expected those for tea today.”
“You go call her while I set up these adorable kits. I’ve decided to place them on some of the higher shelves in the children’s corner, lest little hands get curious.” She winked, and taking the bag, she disappeared to the back of the store.
Kara pulled her phone from her pocket and stared at the screen, thinking of the way she’d behaved on the sidewalk. Normally around a guy who looked like that she’d be all flush-faced and flustered. Instead, she’d been so upset that she could only react to her disappointment, not to that smooth voice or the tingle that she felt when his coat brushed her arm.
She’d been hard on that guy. Rude, really, and that wasn’t like her. Neither was skipping out on her own sister’s engagement announcement dinner. The stress was getting to her, bringing out a side of her that she didn’t like and making her feel even more unsettled than usual. It was Christmastime, after all. It was supposed to be a season of happiness and cheer. Here she was, making Christmas treats night and day and not enjoying the season at all.
Today that would change. And if she saw the man again, she’d apologize. Chances were, though, he was already on his way to the slopes for a day of skiing. The fresh snowfall last night no doubt made for excellent powder on what could be a very icy terrain. But in a town as small as Briar Creek, she’d be bound to see him again eventually. The thought of it was a little bit thrilling, even if he had broken her cookies.
Leaning against the counter, Kara punched in the number for the inn and held her breath, waiting for Mrs. Griffin’s familiar singsong voice.
“What do you mean the cookies are gone?” she exclaimed when Kara told her what had happened in one long burst of information. “But my guests! They’ll be wanting Christmas cookies with their hot chocolate and Earl Grey!”
Kara winced. “I understand, and I’m so sorry. I had them all ready,” she added. They’d been perfect, each cream cheese sugar cookie cut and baked into a snowflake shape and then decorated with royal icing and sanding sugar until it sparkled. She prided herself on each one being slightly different from the next, since no two snowflakes were alike. “I’m afraid there’s going to be a delay.”
“Well, I’d like them within the hour,” Mrs. Griffin said, as if that was that.
“An hour?” Kara blinked, happy that her regular client wasn’t there to see her distress. Mrs. Griffin loved to bake, and she wasn’t shy about boasting about it, either. Kara had appreciated the business the innkeeper had given her, knowing that Mrs. Griffin could just as easily have made her own cookies for her daily holiday tea. Now she realized that perhaps the woman hadn’t done it out of pure charity or simple support, but because she actually needed Kara’s input. Three dozen cookies wouldn’t take long to bake, but decorating them took time. “No problem,” Kara sighed, and ended the call.
“I have to get back to the bakery,” she told Grace as her sister-in-law came back to the front of the store.
“Already? I was hoping we could have a cup of coffee. Molly told us the good news last night. At least, I think it’s good news.” The women exchanged a glance.
“I know,” Kara said, frowning. “I was a little confused by it myself. Last I heard, Todd had broken things off last year and started dating someone else.”
“Well, it seems like he’s had a change of heart.” Grace shrugged, but the raise of her eyebrows told Kara she was equally unconvinced. “You sure you can’t stay for a coffee?”
“I wish.” Kara tightened her scarf around her neck. “But I have to redo the cookies for Mrs. Griffin and get them over to her before tea. That sounds nice, doesn’t it? High tea? A carefree afternoon with a tray of finger foods and a hot toddy…” She smiled wistfully.
“You deserve a break,” Grace said warmly.
“After the holidays,” Kara said. The familiar twinge of worry tightened her stomach as she pulled her hat down a little tighter. After the holidays there was bound to be a downturn in activity. She wouldn’t need to worry about the daily Christmas cookies for the inn anymore, and her gym was offering a New Year’s discount for new members. People indulged during the holidays. After… Well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. For now it just cemented the fact that she’d better make the most of this busy time instead of complaining about it.
“I’ll see you at the Christmas Bazaar then?” Grace held open the door as Kara stepped out onto the icy front step. It had started to snow again, and the wind was picking up. The cold air helped to clear her head and push back the panic she felt at the mere mention of the bazaar. She’d been looking so forward to it, and it would be her own fault if she wasn’t able to enjoy it.
“If not before,” Kara said, and turned to hurry back up Main Street to her bakery, scanning the streets and shop windows for any sign of the man who had crashed into her earlier. She’d been so surprised, and so upset, that most of it had passed in a blur, but now she seemed to recall a wide grin that crinkled clear hazel eyes, a strong square jaw, and a straight nose.
She’d know him if she saw him again, and suddenly she was rather hoping she would. So that she could apologize… and maybe see if he was sticking around town for the holidays.
CHAPTER 3
The Main Street Bed and Breakfast was one of the most beautiful buildings in all of Briar Creek. Ever since she was a little girl, Kara had admired it, especially at Christmastime, when Mr. Griffin hung a pine wreath from each window and door and set candles on each sill. It was classic New England in architecture, a large white Colonial with black shutters and a double door with brass hardware, and the Griffins had been meticulous about its upkeep, adhering to its historical registry status and making it one of the most attractive country inns in the entire state of Vermont.
Clutching the box of cookies to her chest, Kara stomped her boots on the rug inside the inn’s warm vestibule and looked around the lobby, cozily outfitted for the holiday with a tree, garland, and a crackling fireplace. A few guests lingered in armchairs, reading
books and sipping mugs of steaming hot cocoa, but Mrs. Griffin was obviously busy elsewhere in the inn.
Kara poked her head into the dining room, where sure enough, Mrs. Griffin was assembling tiered trays for the afternoon Christmas tea she offered each December. Kara had enjoyed it a few times over the years with her mother, sister, and aunt Sharon, and she’d been honored to be an integral part of it this year. Not only was it sentimental, but also several guests took her card or placed an order before they left town.
“There you are!” Mrs. Griffin turned and wiped her hands on her red and white apron. “Just in time.”
Relief caused Kara to breathe a little easier as she stepped deeper into the room. “Three dozen snowflakes.” She smiled as she handed over the box. As she did every day, Mrs. Griffin popped the lid and inspected the contents. It never stopped being a bit unnerving.
“These look perfect,” Mrs. Griffin said, but before Kara could celebrate that small victory, she remarked, “But I hope I don’t have to wait until five minutes before tea to have them next time.”
Knowing it was no use to explain the accident again, Kara just nodded. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good. I know you’re still new to this, but part of making a business a success is keeping your word and delivering the highest-quality product at all times. If you’re going to continue running the business—”
Kara stepped back at the blow. “Of course I’m going to continue running the bakery. It’s my business. I’ve signed a lease. Why wouldn’t I?” But she knew why. Because she’d quit everything else before it, and everyone knew. She bit back on her teeth, willing herself not to get too fired up or defensive. After all, there was truth in the woman’s words, even if the truth hurt.
Mrs. Griffin just gave her a placating look. “Well, it’s important to keep the customer satisfied. That’s my advice.”
Kara continued to nod, more wearily, and considered that she had made a perfect product the first time around and that it wasn’t really her fault that her efforts had been crushed, literally. “It’s just that—”
Mrs. Griffin held up a hand. “Customers don’t want to hear the excuses, my dear. They just want to be satisfied. And they don’t want to hear what it took to get to that point. The work goes on behind the scenes. The outcome is for the public.”
Kara sighed. “I had them ready but—”
“It was my fault,” a deep voice behind her cut in.
Kara turned in surprise, coming face-to-face with the stranger from the sidewalk. He gave her a sheepish grin, but his hazel eyes were sharp, if not a bit hard, and Kara felt her cheeks heat with more than just embarrassment. She shifted the weight on her feet and stood a little straighter, trying to redeem her first impression but knowing it was probably no use.
She should have considered he’d be a guest at the inn. She opened her mouth to apologize for her earlier outburst, suddenly a little nervous to talk to this handsome stranger, but Mrs. Griffin interrupted. “What do you mean, your fault? You’ve met?”
The man slid a glance to her, cocking an eyebrow in a devilish way that felt intimate and personal, as if they were in on a secret together, and Kara felt her insides do a little dance. He was taller than she remembered, with broad shoulders and nut-brown hair and a smile that probably made many women stop to take a second look.
“I wouldn’t exactly say we’ve met. I bumped into her on the street, and I’m afraid I crushed the cookies.” He turned to look at her full-on, and Kara dropped her gaze to his full lips as his mouth curved into a hint of a smile. He was probably a very good kisser, she realized with a start. “Cookies, eh?”
“That’s right,” Kara said a little defensively. Okay, she had better lose the edge, unless she wanted to turn off the cutest thing that had hit Briar Creek since her mother’s next-door neighbor got a puppy last summer.
His eyes roamed over her lazily before he glanced at the innkeeper once more. “It was my fault, Aunt Maggie.”
Aunt Maggie? Kara frowned, recalling at once the endless comments Mrs. Griffin was always making about her elusive nephew, often resulting in subtle eye rolls between the single women of Briar Creek. She never tired of boasting about his successes. The good college. The good job. The new car. The good looks. Kara had just assumed, as they all had, that Mrs. Griffin was exaggerating the thick brown hair, the piercing deep-set gaze, the hundred-watt grin. If anything, she hadn’t done the man justice.
Kara blinked at him, trying to remember all the stories she’d drowned out over time. Baltimore, was it? No, Boston. Something with business—Mrs. Griffin had been sure to mention his MBA a few times.
She licked her lips and reached up to pull off her thick knit hat with the oversized pom-pom. She could only hope her hair wasn’t standing on end from static. “So… you’re the nephew.”
“You say it like you know something I don’t,” the man remarked in amusement. “I’m Nate,” he said, outstretching his hand as his grin turned a little friendlier.
“Kara,” she muttered in return, trying to unlock herself from those golden eyes. His hand was warm and smooth and his grip was firm and not exactly fleeting. She waited for him to drop his arm and then pushed the smile from her lips as she grazed her thumb over her fingers, still feeling the tingle from his touch. She forced her attention to Mrs. Griffin, who was watching the exchange with unabashed interest.
“Well, how nice that you two already met,” Mrs. Griffin said coyly, all mention of the reason for it now forgotten. “Nate’s in town for the holidays.”
“From Boston?” Kara asked. When his gaze narrowed in suspicion, she added, “Your aunt is very proud of you.”
Nate gave a grin to cover his overt embarrassment, but Mrs. Griffin just stepped forward and proclaimed, “And why shouldn’t I be proud of my handsome nephew?” She waggled her eyebrows at Kara. “He has an MBA, you know.”
Kara glanced at Nate, who was shaking his head, looking mortified. She resisted the urge to point out that, yes, she did know, suspecting it would only make things worse for Nate. “Impressive.”
“Indeed!” Maggie declared.
“Aunt Maggie,” Nate groaned. “I don’t think Kara needs to hear my résumé. She probably has work to do, and aren’t your guests eager for their tea?”
Mrs. Griffin waved a hand through the air. “Oh, they can wait a minute…”
“I should really get back to work, too,” Kara said reluctantly. It wasn’t often that handsome nephews rolled through town, and it had been too long since her body had responded the way it did to Nate’s charm. She thought of how nice it would be to stay and chat, to get to know this new face a little better. But then she felt the familiar weight on her shoulders and the ticking of the clock that made her pulse kick with each passing second. She had many more cookies to bake if she had any hope of leaving at a decent hour tonight. Besides, Nate was unfortunately right—Mrs. Griffin had guests to attend to. “My sister’s in town, too, actually,” she said to Mrs. Griffin as she slowly made her way to the door, stealing another glance in Nate’s direction, her heart speeding up when she caught his eye.
“Staying with your mother?” Mrs. Griffin inquired smoothly, but there was a sudden light in her eyes that made Kara pause. “Is your mother, um…” The innkeeper stopped to fiddle with a napkin on a nearby table before slanting Kara a glance. “Is she entering the contest this year?”
For a moment, Kara frowned, and then she remembered. Briar Creek’s annual event, the Holiday House contest. Wow, the holidays really were under way, and she was holed up in her kitchen while it almost passed her by.
“I suppose,” she admitted, feeling again like a bad daughter. She hadn’t been to her mother’s house since Thanksgiving, hadn’t even driven that way, but now with Molly in town, she would have to carve out more time. Or manage her time better. Something. The familiar knot of panic tightened her abdomen.
At least, she thought brightly, her mother couldn’t remark that she wasn�
��t working hard enough.
“Mmm.” Mrs. Griffin just nodded, but it seemed she had much more to say. “Did she decide on a theme?” Quickly she added, “She always has such creative ideas.”
Kara shrugged. Again, she didn’t know for sure, but now she seemed to recall her mother mentioning on the phone one night that this year she was going with The Nutcracker, as if she wasn’t already surrounded by the ballet at her dance studio.
“I think she’s doing a Nutcracker theme, but don’t take my word for it.” Kara grinned.
“The Nutcracker!” Mrs. Griffin looked a little pale. “My, that is ambitious. It makes sense, of course, but my… She’ll go head-to-head with Kathleen Madison this year, no doubt!”
Grace’s mother had won the Holiday House contest for twelve years in a row before she stepped down to become a judge, but she started competing again two Christmases ago, and Mrs. Griffin was correct in her assessment. If you were going to compete with Briar Creek’s best interior designer, you had to bring out the big ideas. Perhaps her mother was hoping to win this year… Guess she’d find out next time she visited. Tonight, Kara promised to herself. Tonight she would stop by her mother’s house, see Molly, and have a proper family dinner like the one she’d missed last night.
“Well, I’ll let you get on your way,” Mrs. Griffin said almost eagerly as she took Kara by the arm and helped move her toward the lobby.
Confused, Kara glanced back over her shoulder to see an equally bewildered Nate watching her go. He nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t offer much of a smile. No doubt he was still upset by how she’d treated him earlier, and she couldn’t blame him for that. So much for apologizing to him right now, not with Mrs. Griffin standing guard, soaking in every ounce of their exchange.
She’d just have to wait until tomorrow, when she delivered the next batch of cookies. Suddenly, she was rather looking forward to it.
