I felt so small and insignificant beside the monstrous Rocky Mountains. But in a way, it felt more meaningful than a high rise building in the heart of LA ever could.
I was beginning to see why my grandma refused to leave Holly Springs.
The town was quaint, and cute, but actually quite a bit bigger than I’d imagined. There were a lot of people at the event last night. Of course, it couldn’t compare to what I was used to in LA, but there were far more than fifty people here like I had let myself imagine. Streets of big houses with porches and white painted swings dotted the countryside. Log cabin houses were built up into the side of the mountain.
It was rugged, but the people were not. And I would look really good on a front porch swing with a red plaid shirt and my arm around a brunette.
Grinning over my ridiculous fantasy, I hopped back into my car and drove to spy on my grandmother’s house again. Careful not to park anywhere near Bradley’s house, I found a new vantage point. It was silly and I probably would get nothing from these reconnaissance missions, but I enjoyed them nonetheless.
My father was not a horrible man. He cared about his business and couldn’t stand to be away from it for too long, but that didn’t mean he loved it more than he did his family. He made time every year for vacations with just the four of us. And he clearly was not a snob, or he wouldn’t have married my mom right after college.
But the story I grew up knowing—that my grandma on my mom’s side was not interested in a relationship with us—didn’t sit right either. And after meeting the woman at the library, I really had a hard time believing it.
I didn’t want to learn something about my father that I would come to regret. But I also wasn’t about to let this lie with no answers. Mrs. Hart deserved to tell her side of the story.
Only, I had a job to do first and if I didn’t report something to Mark soon, he was going to throw a fit. I knew my brother well.
I pulled my phone out and sent him a text.
Getting new details. It may be worth keeping the tenant after all.
Vague and slightly dishonest, but what Mark didn’t know wasn’t going to wreck his business. And I wasn’t about to kick out a hardworking woman during the holidays. Not before I’d had a solid chance to help her fix her business first.
* * *
Madison
Tessa sat on the bar and snapped her gum. My whole body tensed at the noise and I flexed my fingers.
“Do you want to take off early tonight?” I asked her through my teeth.
Her gaze swept the empty dining room and she turned to me, popping her gum again. “Sure.” She shrugged.
The moment she hopped off the counter I swiped my rag over it, scrubbing it clean. The bell dinged over the doorway at her departure and I pulled out the lemon cleanser to wipe down all the booths. If I didn’t need her help part of the time, I would have fired her ages ago. But at present, I needed her.
The bell dinged again and I finished wiping the corner booth before turning to find Jake watching me.
“Busy day?” he asked. His coat was zipped all the way up and the edge of his nose was red from the cold.
I shot him a wry smile, my mouth moving of its own accord. “Clearly. I guess the new town attraction isn’t holding interest anymore.”
He moved closer and leaned against a table, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “What is it?”
“You.” I grinned, using my wrist to move a strand of hair out of my eyes.
He chuckled. “You guys really need to get a movie theater out here or something.”
“Hey,” I scoffed, tossing the rag at him, “we’ve got a theater and a nickel arcade. What more could a small town like this need?”
He tossed the rag back and I caught it. “Maybe a Target?”
I wrinkled my nose at him, then winced due to the lingering bruise. “I can order almost anything I need online. We’re doing fine here.”
“Clearly,” he said, looking around dramatically. He ran a hand over his scruff. “I did notice you’ve got a library.”
I moved back behind the counter and rinsed out the rag, putting the cleaner away. “Do you read much?”
He grinned unabashedly. “No, but the library has great Wi-Fi.”
“So do I.”
“Which is why I only went to the library once. Hey, I got a picture of you yesterday with your cake pops. Want me to send it over?”
What did he mean, with my cake pops? While I was making them? No. I would have seen that. I nodded, unclear on what was coming to me. He’d slid down to sit in the booth and I came around the front of the counter and hopped up on a stool. Where a normal person sits while waiting for customers.
Slipping my phone from my pocket, I waited for the buzz and slid it open. Wow. He had an eye for photography, I’d give him that. He caught me laughing with Mr. Rollins at the parade and my tray of bells was mostly full. I never got around to catching a picture of myself with the cake pops yesterday and this one would be perfect to post on my feed.
“Hey, do you mind if I post it?” I asked.
“Only if I get photo cred.”
“Impossible,” I said smugly. “We aren’t FotoFeed friends.”
His gaze was full of energy that grabbed onto me with force and connected us at once. “We can remedy that.”
His follow notification popped up and I hesitated only slightly before clicking follow back. I lifted my gaze to watch his reaction while he surfed my pictures and I wasn’t disappointed. His eyebrows drew higher and higher until they fell at once.
“Your dad died on Christmas? That must have been horrible.”
Wow. Way to be blunt.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, pocketing his phone and crossing the diner swiftly. “That was tactless.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I posted it on a public page. It’s not a secret or anything.”
The door opened and a group of high school kids came in. They would want the corner booth, as it was the only table I had that could fit all of them. I gathered menus while the kids sat down, then distributed them before taking drink orders.
Jake’s gaze followed me like a beacon of sunlight and warmed my back while I dealt with my customers. He moved to the bar and took a stool, watching me with sorrowful eyes while I filled glasses with drinks and delivered them.
“You’ve really got to quit staring at me,” I said, topping a milkshake off with whipped cream and a cherry.
“I didn’t mean to be so—”
“Tactless. Right. It’s not a big deal.”
He ran a hand over his scruff. “It just shocked me for some reason. On Christmas? That’s terrible.”
I shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“It can be a big deal. Is that why you hate Christmas music?”
“I don’t hate Christmas music. I’m just not ready…you know…for the reminders. Yet.”
He watched me deliver the milkshake and I wanted to shake him. I was a grown woman. I was not a child. Losing my dad was really hard on me, but I was not about to fall into a heap on the floor simply because one man brought it up. I was the one who posted about it on FotoFeed. Of course, I’d only posted to explain my month-long hiatus right after his death, but that was beside the point. If it was publicly posted, I couldn’t complain that someone had seen it.
Coming back around the bar, I leaned forward on the counter, looking him in the eyes. “Let’s not make this awkward, Jake.”
“More awkward than you staring into my eyes so closely?” he asked softly.
Laughter bubbled out of me and I leaned away, but not before his answering grin caused my stomach to flip over. Butterflies batted their delicate wings around my rib cage and I moved as far from him as I could, leaning back against the cool stove.
“So that’s what all the food pictures are for,” he said. “You have a social media presence.”
“So do you,” I countered.
He slipped out his phone and ope
ned it, swiping the screen with his fingers until he found what he was looking for. Placing his phone on the counter, he pointed to it. It was the picture of Jenny from that morning with the Rapunzel cake. “Not like this. You’ve already got two thousand likes on this picture. Do you realize your potential here?”
Potential for what? Showing off some cupcakes? People liked my creations. I made cute desserts and people online liked looking at them. It was a side hobby, and nothing else. I wasn’t going to start selling them or anything. That sounded like a legitimate nightmare.
“You sound crazy.”
He scoffed. “Crazy is sitting on a gold mine and literally doing nothing about it.”
We simply weren’t going to see eye to eye on this. It was fun sharing my baking creations with the online world and chatting with fans about my techniques. It put my culinary degree to good use. But that was as far as it went. I ran a diner, not a bakery.
“Have you seen your grandma today?” I asked. His head snapped up.
“No, why?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I just find it interesting that you said you were in Holly Springs for your grandma and yet you spend all your time here.”
His gaze shifted away and back. It was the smallest movement, but it still planted misgiving in me. I had been teasing him, but now I began to wonder if he had, in fact, made up this elusive grandmother figure.
But if she wasn’t real, then what was it that drew him to Holly Springs?
My mind flashed back to the moment I’d waited for him in the apartment and joked with Patrick about his potential serial killer aura. Narrowing my eyes at him, I considered him from head to toe. He was handsome, check. He was charismatic, another check. He might have created a fictitious grandmother character to explain his presence in our small town…check.
He tilted his head to the side and I stepped back, swallowing.
He also lived above my diner and was often alone with me…
“What on earth is going through your head right now?”
I laughed awkwardly. “Just contemplating on whether you are a serial killer or not.”
“Well,” he said, giving me a curious look, “I’m not. And I’ll take the hint. We can revisit your FotoFeed platform later. For now, I want to know what you put in those cake pops to make them taste so delicious.”
“Nothing special.” I grinned as I walked away from him to check on the table of teenagers. I felt his eyes on my back while I chatted with the table. I always was a good judge of character, or so I liked to think. When it boiled down to it, Jake Tyler didn’t set off any major warning bells within me.
Of course, if he could prove his grandma was real that would go a long way in making me feel more comfortable around him. But that was probably easily accomplished.
The bell above the front door dinged and I waved at Britney while finishing up the cupcake order for two of the high schoolers. They weren’t on the menu, but the kids knew to ask what I had on hand. “You guys are in luck,” I said. “I’ve got two left of the Oreo and they are yours.”
“Yes!” the cute blonde girl said. “Those are my fave.”
I couldn’t help but grin as I plated the cupcakes and took them back to the teenagers. If I was being honest, I would be satisfied to make nothing but cupcakes for the rest of my days. Of course, the odd macaron wouldn’t go amiss, or an occasional series of dessert bars.
I filled and placed a Diet Coke in front of Britney while she chatted with Jake. She paused a moment to sip her soda and kept talking without missing a beat. Jake slid his gaze to me momentarily, a little smile playing on his lips.
My smile came automatically in return.
“And then I just didn’t know what to do so I threw everything into the pot and turned the burner up higher and made a weird sort of Asian soup. Of course, I don’t actually think curry is meant to be mixed with the noodles I tried to make but add a little extra water and it turned out alright.” Britney shrugged, turning unrepentant eyes on me. “But I’m not the chef here. I was just craving some good Thai food and figured I’d give it a try.”
Amusement shone on Jake’s face as he nodded. “And did you get some good Thai food?”
“Definitely not. But I tried.” Britney looked at me, smiling as though she had a secret. “You seem completely heartbroken.”
“Because your Thai dinner turned into soup?”
Shaking her head, her facetious smile grew wider. “Because of Patrick.”
My disloyal eyes sought Jake’s and I quickly trained them back on Britney. “It’s fine.”
“Clearly.”
Okay, she needed to stop now. She was obviously implying that Jake was helping to ease me through my break-up and I wanted to smack her for it.
“So he did it then?” Jake asked. Britney and I looked at him in unison.
“How did you know?” she asked. “You didn’t put him up to it, did you?”
9
Jake
I threw my hands up in surrender. Britney looked angry all of a sudden, but Madison simply looked confused. Her nose scrunched up on her face and she tilted her head to the side. It was an adorable pose and reminded me of my mom’s little pug. But obviously Madison was cuter. And less wrinkly.
“Of course not!” I defended.
“Then how did you know Patrick was going to break up with her?” Britney countered.
Madison leaned back against the stove, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d like to know the same thing.”
“Patrick mentioned it yesterday.”
Britney didn’t seem to think that was enough of an explanation. “And?”
I shrugged. “That was it.” I turned toward Madison. “I’m sorry. You do seem to be holding up alright, though.” I clenched my teeth together. That was a stupid thing to say.
Madison looked at her friend. “I’m going to start wrapping the cakes.” She nodded toward the back table of high schoolers. “Let me know if I’m needed out here?”
Britney saluted and Madison walked out without so much as a backward glance at me. Well, that bungled things.
“You’re really screwing this up, aren’t you?”
I looked at Britney. Her curly blonde hair was as big as her personality. Infusing my glare with a healthy dose of superiority, I watched her for a minute. I should have known she wouldn’t back down so easily.
“You’re really blunt,” I said wryly. “You know that, right?”
Nodding unrepentantly, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and crossed one leg over the other knee. “And Mads is my best friend. She could use a distraction right now and you seem like you could too.”
A teenager from the back table came up to us. “Can you guys tell Miss Bell that we left money on the table?”
“Sure thing,” I said.
The bell sounded three times in succession as the kids left, and we were alone in the dining room.
“Just don’t set her up with any high expectations, please?” Britney said. For once she had a serious expression and I found myself wanting to make sure I didn’t disappoint her. “Don’t make her fall for you and then vanish from town.”
“You ready?” Madison asked, coming from the kitchen with a basket full of cellophane and ribbon. And jingle bells, apparently, if the way she jingled with every step was an indication.
Britney hopped to her feet. “That table left money for you.”
Madison glanced back and then shrugged. “Great. I’ll just take care of that later. We’re late.”
Britney paused, watching me expectantly. “You coming?”
Madison stared at her, unblinking. I was fairly positive she wanted me to say no.
“I’d love to,” I said directly to Madison.
She rolled her eyes, but I caught her smile before she turned for the door.
I followed them outside. Madison locked the door behind me and we piled into her old blue pickup truck and took off down the road. The cab immediately smelled like baked bre
ad.
“What’s in the basket?”
“Fruitcake,” Britney said.
Madison shrugged, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she maneuvered the truck with ease. “The old people love it.”
Old people? “What exactly are we doing?”
Madison pulled into the parking lot of a large, rambling house. “You can sing, right?” she asked as she put the truck into park.
Chuckling nervously, I refused to answer her.
Sing? No, not really. I had no talent for it, at least. Hopefully we weren’t caroling or anything like that. Not that I’d ever done it before, but the carolers in the movies all had loud voices and cheesy smiles and I was fairly positive I was incapable of either of those things.
I followed the women inside and waited while they chatted with the front desk receptionist. Madison shot me a look over her shoulder and I was glad, at least, that I could supply some entertainment for her. She must have loved the unease I was exuding.
“Down here,” she said, and I obeyed, following her down a hallway lined with tinsel garland and wreath-endowed doors. We stopped at the first room on the left and Madison knocked.
“Knock, knock!” she said, stepping inside. An older man lay in a bed and she handed him a cellophane-wrapped, jingle bell-equipped miniature loaf of fruitcake. “Do you have a special request?”
His wrinkled eyes twinkled. “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”
Madison and Britney shared a look and then began immediately. I didn’t get the memo, so it took me a second to join in. But Britney only glanced back at me once while we sang. Our voices melded together into a decent sound and I caught Madison’s eye as I moved forward to stand beside her. Of all the things I expected to be doing this evening, this certainly wasn’t one of them.
Snowflake Wishes (Holly Springs Romance Book 1) Page 7
