A group of four older women had come in with their grandkids, and she was busy serving them when Mason walked in the front door. Her brain came to a screeching halt even as all her senses went on high alert. It was like she could feel his nearness in the prickles on her skin.
“No, not that one. The one next to it,” said the lady she was helping.
Pulling herself back together, Ruth grabbed the other gingerbread girl that was nearly identical to the one she’d been about to pick up and put it in the lady’s box. She watched Mason out of the corner of her eye as she finished the transaction.
He didn’t seem in a hurry as he moved from case to case examining her cookies. What did he think of them? She hated how desperately she wanted him to be impressed.
When the ladies finally left, she waited tensely behind the counter as he came towards her. “Hello, stranger.”
He smiled slightly, just a sideways lift of his lips. “I know. Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“We always are, huh?”
The look he sent her then was sharp and remorseful. “Yeah.” His eyes shifted to her display cases. “Your cookies look even more amazing in person. How has business been?”
Ruth resented the question since it had definitely slowed to a trickle while there seemed to be a steady stream of customers walking past her windows to his front door. But he sounded like he meant it in a friendly way so she couldn’t snap his head off. “Not as well as I’d like.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s too bad. I’m sure things will pick up. I get a lot of people coming in, but there are always some who walk out when they see the prices. People just don’t understand the cost and time that go into things like this.”
Ruth was in complete agreement with him there. “Oh man, don’t I know it. It took me a while before I stopped feeling bad when people complained about the price. I gave out a lot of discount in my early years before I finally learned to stick to my guns.”
He nodded. “Sometimes I think maybe I should use cheaper ingredients and charge less, but I think I just need to find my market.” He pressed his lips together. “That’s why I need to talk to you about something.”
Seeing the look on his face, Ruth felt nervous. He looked too uncomfortable about this conversation for it to be anything good. “Okay.”
He hesitated. “I know you’re worried about me taking some of your business.”
He stopped abruptly, thinking through his words. The pause gave Ruth time to shift gears. He wasn’t here to talk about their awkward conversation from a few days ago. She was relieved but hurt at the same time, “Go on.”
“I submitted a bid for the Candy Cane Ball this morning.”
He said it in a rush, as if confessing a terrible crime. She didn’t say anything for a moment as she tried to figure out her reaction to the news. No, it was best to put that aside right now. The only reaction she could give was a professional one.
After taking a deep breath, she summoned a smile and said, “Good for you. And good luck.”
“Ruth…You understand, right? That I had to try? I need to get my name out there.”
She understood completely. Really, she did. And she didn’t blame him at all. Her income from custom orders had tripled since she’d done the ball for the first time.
All she could think about was that Sharon Windover would jump at a chance to showcase someone new this year. And as she thought about her bid, she felt sick. It wasn’t even competitive.
She had gone back and forth on the price she’d charge and had finally gone with the higher amount, thinking that she was likely to get the gig and might make more of a profit this year. Because the ball was a charitable event, Sharon chose businesses that gave the best donations and price reductions. The bid she’d presented had been well below her retail price, but now she was sure it hadn’t been low enough.
“Look, Mason, no hard feelings, okay?”
“Ruth, I wish…”
But she cut him off before he could say any more. “Stop worrying about it, Mason. Really. I’m a big girl and, I hope, a professional. Thank you for telling me.”
“So, do you still want to get together sometime?” he asked.
He sounded as miserable as she felt. She needed to put them both out of their misery. “Hey don’t worry about that. We’re both so busy, it would be hard to figure out anyway. Besides, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
There. She couldn’t make it any easier for him to gracefully step away from her undesirable invitation. Now they could both move past this and focus on their businesses.
“Oh, okay. Yeah. Well, I guess I’ll get back.” He turned and opened the door. But before he left, he turned and said, “For what it matters, I am sorry, Ruth.”
When the door closed behind him, all her composure fell apart. She looked at the clock and saw that it was almost time to close. She didn’t care if any more customers came today. They’d just have to come back later because she was done.
The only thing she wanted to do was go home and hide away in her apartment where she could lick her wounds in privacy. Then tomorrow, she’d come in ready to dominate the Christmas sweets business.
Chapter Six
The next few days were miserable for Mason. More than anything he wanted to figure out how to fix things with Ruth and get back to where they’d been—the beginnings of friendship. Because even just being friends was better than this.
Now, if they happened to arrive for work at the same time or pass each other going to their cars, there was no lingering to talk, no standing close together, no long meeting of their eyes. And as small as those things had been, he missed them. And she certainly wasn’t popping in with warm cookies anymore.
Straightening from his work dipping truffles, he thought of something so simple, he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it before. Working feverishly, he finished dipping the truffles and left them to set up on a rack in the cool room. Striding through the swinging door, he reached for an empty chocolate box and tried to figure out what to fill it with.
“Um, is everything okay?” Brianna asked.
Her voice startled him from his concentration. “Which chocolates do you think a woman who’s mad at me might like the most?”
Brianna laughed but smothered it quickly behind her hand. “How mad is she?”
Mason pressed his lips together as he thought about it. “Not mad, exactly, just really annoyed.”
“What did you do?”
“I submitted a bid for the same event she wanted.”
Brianna’s eyes widened. “Are you talking about the pretty cookie lady next door?”
“Yeah. Her name is Ruth.”
“This is too sweet. Okay, let see…” She pulled on a pair of food service gloves and began choosing chocolates with swift certainty. “One of these dark chocolate caramels. A mint truffle. Ooh, one of the almond clusters with sea salt. Do you know if she likes coconut?”
Mason sighed. “I don’t know anything she likes.” The thought ripped through him.
He didn’t know her well but he wanted to. Even if it wasn’t a good idea. Even if it would be totally distracting and incredibly difficult to forge a friendship while competing for business, he wanted to. “Let’s play it safe.”
“No coconut then. But everyone loves hazelnuts.”
Soon the twelve-piece box was filled. Crystal put the lid on it and tied it with a brown silk ribbon. As she handed it to him, she winked. “Good luck.”
He nodded and took the box. He could do this.
With firm strides, as if he were heading into battle, he went outside and around to her back door. He knocked and cracked the door open. Sticking his head through, he saw her working at a metal counter in the middle of her kitchen. She looked up, her face going pale when she saw him. Not a good sign.
“Mind if I come in?” he asked.
“No.”
It wasn’t the most effusive welcome he’d ever received. Still, he’d
take it.
He walked slowly across the room while looking at the dozens and dozens of cookies lined up on parchment paper down one long counter. They were in various stages, some of them just iced a solid color, others with decorative piping started but clearly not done, and others set out to dry. His only experience seeing people ice cookies had been videos on YouTube, but this made him appreciate what it must be like to repeat a design over and over. The time it must take was incredible.
“Those are for an order I got for a Christmas party on Friday.”
“Must be a big party.”
“Definitely. They want eight dozen cookies.”
“Wow.”
In the silence that fell then, he could almost hear the questions running through her mind. He walked toward her and held out the box in his hand. “You’ve been so generous with your cookies, I figured it was time I shared some of my chocolate.”
“Oh.” She took the box but bit her lip briefly. “I’m not sure I should take this. The cookies are no big deal, but I know how much you sell these boxes for.”
Determined that she wasn’t going to refuse it, he shook his head and took it from her hands. He untied the ribbon and took off the lid, hoping she’d be tempted by what was inside. “Yeah, you know my costs are lower. And I want you to have them.”
She looked over the chocolate. “Well, I have to admit, I’ve been dying to try another piece since those samples you brought me.” Her hand hovered over the box, landing on one of the truffles. “What’s this?”
Smiling, he moved around to sit on the stool across the counter from her. “No way. The fun part is being surprised when you bite into it.”
Her rosy lips tugged into a reluctant smile. “Fine. But don’t be offended if I get something I don’t like.”
He watched as she bit into the truffle, his attention focused a little too much on her mouth. When she licked a bit of the filling from her bottom lip, he clenched his jaw tight. This woman was entirely too tempting.
“Mmm… raspberry?”
“Yes. In a white chocolate ganache, dipped in dark chocolate with a hint of orange.”
“It’s heavenly. And surprisingly not too rich.” She finished off the rest of the truffle and then licked a smudge of melted chocolate off her finger.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said.
“Like it? Mason, this is really, really not good for my diet.”
He saw the instant reaction on her face as she spoke—as if she had said something she didn’t want to. She did that a lot. Her whole expression changed as she blushed and pressed her lips together. Whatever break-through he’d been making, she was withdrawing now.
Was she worried about her weight? He hoped not. She looked amazing to him. Even though he didn’t think he had a type that he preferred, he was definitely attracted to Ruth and knew it would feel amazing to hold her in his arms.
But beyond that, he liked who she was. Tenacious, hard-working, and talented. And though she wasn’t perfect, she was quick to apologize and forgive. From struggles in his past relationships, he knew those qualities were priceless.
But despite all the thoughts racing through his head, he didn’t have a clue how to respond to her comment. No doubt anything he said would just land him in hotter water than he was already swimming in. “Well, even if it isn’t exactly low in calories, you don’t have anything to worry about.”
She looked at him, her brows drawn together as if she was trying to puzzle out his meaning. “Yeah?”
Dang it. He thought he’d gotten through that one okay, but now she was pressing further. Even though this was going to reveal way more than he was prepared for, he couldn’t stand to see her unsure about something that was so obvious to him. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. What are you worried about?”
Her eyes searched his for a moment but fell away sharply. She played with the silk ribbon from the box, pulling it through her fingers. “Thank you, but I do make cookies for a living. Watching my weight is a constant struggle.”
“Haven’t you ever heard that people shouldn’t trust a skinny baker?”
She stared at him with wide eyes for a shocked moment, then burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Giving a wry smile, he shrugged. “Me either. It sounded better in my head. But please believe me when I say that I think you’re incredibly attractive.”
“Thank you.”
As their gazes locked, he felt it again—that palpable current between them. Even when they were annoying each other, it was there.
As usual, however, it was Ruth who shied away. “I’d better wash my hands before I get back to work.”
Mason sat still as she closed the box and shifted it over to the end of the counter then went to the sink to wash her hands. As she dried them on a paper towel, he looked down and saw she’d been working on a giant rectangle shaped cookie. Like a sheet cookie or something, it was about the size of a sheet of paper. A glossy layer of light blue icing covered the whole cookie, and she was painting a winter scene on top of it. She had a small palette beside her along with an enormous selection of food coloring gels, clear vanilla extract, and several different paint brushes.
“You’re painting a cookie?”
“Yeah,” she answered as she sat back down. She lifted her chin in the air a bit. “We’re going to display it up front and showcase it on social media. I’m going to do a different cookie every week or so and then do drawings for people to win them. But they can only enter in the store. Hopefully, it will bring in some traffic.” She paused a moment. “You know, since I’m going to need it now.”
Mason’s throat tightened. “Ruth, I’m probably not even going to win the bid. I’m sure you will. You’re established and your cookies are way more festive than chocolate could ever be.”
“While you are exciting precisely because you are new, and chocolate is way more elegant. Plus, everyone loves chocolate. Not everyone likes sugar cookies, even mine.”
He shouldn’t hope that she was right, but he did. It struck him as odd that they were talking as if one of them winning was a sure thing. “How many other businesses submit bids? Do you know?”
Ruth shrugged. “A few others. But quite frankly, unless Sharon decides to go with tasteless cupcakes or bland, grocery-store-variety cookies, we definitely have the advantage.”
Mason smiled. “I’m cool with that. If either one of us gets it, it’s a win for me.”
“Really?” Ruth looked confused.
Nodding, Mason stood up. “I’ll just have to figure out how to steal all your traffic.”
Ruth narrowed her eyes. “And if you win, I’ll be sure to steal yours.”
He couldn’t tell if she was teasing like he was or not. At least she was talking to him though.
And there was no doubt they both knew what the other wanted—at least as far as business went—so that was a good thing.
What did she want personally? Was he an idiot to hope it might someday be him?
Chapter Seven
Besides the lights outside her shop and the wreath she’d hung on the front door, Ruth hadn’t done much to decorate for Christmas. Now that Mason had issued his challenge, she was determined to make her shop look like a sugarplum wonderland.
Because there would be no customers to trip over boxes or get tangled in strings of lights, she spent Sunday decorating the store. Usually, she never came in on her day off, but this was important.
The first thing she did was turn on Christmas music and mix up a bowl of applesauce and cinnamon dough to make scented ornaments.
With those in the oven, she lugged in her artificial Christmas tree and set it up in front of one of her windows. She’d tried using a real tree her first year, but keeping it watered and sweeping up the needles proved to be more work than she wanted in her otherwise pristine shop.
After putting on the colored twinkle lights, she stepped back to admire the effect and then went to take the cinnamon o
rnaments out of the oven. It was a shame they weren’t for eating because they smelled divine.
When the ornaments cooled, she threaded hooks through the little holes she’d punched before baking them, and hung them around the tree. They fit in perfectly with her theme of Christmas sweets, as did the flocked snowflakes that looked like they’d been dusted in powdered sugar and the ornaments shaped like sugared fruit and old-fashioned candy.
As the decorations went up and the carols played, the unsettled feeling in Ruth’s chest dissipated. She even began to feel a bit cheerful with the scent of cinnamon permeating the shop. Maybe it would help sales of her gingerbread cookies when people came in.
After stringing garland along the cookie cases and hanging more snowflakes from strings in the windows, she decided that the inside looked good enough. Was there anything more that could be done outside?
She put on her coat and went out through the front door, then stepped back to look at her shop. The sun set early this time of year so even though it was only five-thirty, it was already getting dark.
As she stood looking back at her store, the lights around the square went on. She paused a moment to just enjoy the sight the breath-taking canopy of lights overhead. Because all the businesses were closed, there were only a few people walking around, mostly couples looking for a romantic walk and an occasional person walking their dog. For the most part, the city square felt peaceful and quiet, like a hushed fairyland.
Footsteps to her right caught her attention. Turning, she saw Mason walking toward her.
“I’d tease you about working so much,” he said, “But I wouldn’t have much ground to stand on, would I?”
“Nope. I’m decorating. What are you here for?”
Mason grinned. “My secret weapon.”
“Weapon? For what?”
“To take you down, cookie girl. You think you’re going to get all the attention with your fancy cookie painting? Well, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Sugarplums and Mistletoe Page 4
