The Reindeer Falls Collection: Volume One

by Jana Aston

  When I mentioned the next item on today's agenda was a haircut, I thought surely he'd have had enough of running errands with me. Instead, he said something about this day being far more informative than a trip to the lady doctor and walked in and made himself comfortable.

  Literally.

  First of all, the salon staff are swooning over him. Which I should have seen coming. The only thing the ladies at the Hairway to Heaven love more than a good story is a front-row seat to watching a good story unfold.

  Second of all, he's not waiting in the waiting area as he should. He's gotten himself the chair next to mine and now he's watching while I get my hair cut. He convinced Miss Sally to move down a spot so he could sit at her station while Jessie cuts my hair.

  Miss Sally is not normally prone to doing favors, but she near tripped over herself to do one for Keller. Damn British accent. She actually offered to bring him a cup of tea after giving him her chair.

  He declined, thanking her with such sincerity that she blushed. I don't believe Miss Sally has blushed in two decades, but for Keller? There was blushing.

  Chair secured, he sat back with ease, one long leg bent and resting on the footrest, the other sprawled before him, gently rotating the chair to the left and right while he watched and talked and charmed everyone. Including me.

  Meanwhile I'm sitting beneath an ugly cape with wet hair. Not sexy wet hair. Wet hair combed stick-straight against my head as Jessie gives me a trim. Split ends are not to be messed with.

  But clearly, I didn't think this through. Because he looks like Santa's gift to single women and I look like a package left on the front porch in the snow.

  At least my hair's washed now.

  "I'm having a lovely time. Thank you for inviting me, Ginger."

  "I didn't invite you," I remind him. "You invited yourself."

  "Oh, Gingersnap, you little flirt, you." He says it teasingly, his eyes lit up and a smile on his face as if my sassing him is the highlight of his day, and I can't help it, I laugh. I don't know what exactly is going on between us but I'm into it. I'm going to give this British charmer whatever he wants and we both know it. It's only a matter of time.

  "So Jessie, how long have you been cutting Ginger's hair?" Keller asks, turning his attention to my stylist.

  "Since we were seven," I answer for her.

  Keller lifts a brow in question while Jessie groans her disapproval. I can see her reflection in the mirror, throwing her hands up in disbelief that I've brought this up.

  "One time. I cut off your hair one time when we were seven! I've been giving you a discount ever since and yet you won't let me live it down."

  "Jessie and I grew up together," I tell Keller. "I always wanted to be a baker and she always wanted to be a hairstylist."

  "But no one will let you practice cutting hair when you're a kid," Jessie fills in, clearly still disgruntled about this. "Everyone encouraged Ginger's dreams. Gave her an Easy Bake oven and tiny child-sized aprons. They let her stir the bowl and add the chocolate chips. They let her frost cakes and add all the sprinkles she wanted."

  "So many sprinkles," I agree with a happy smile. I'm kinda beyond sprinkles now, skill wise, but they always make me nostalgic for the simple days when a variety pack of sprinkles was all you needed to create a masterpiece.

  "Yet no one gave me a pair of scissors and encouraged me to practice. Nope." Behind me in the mirror Jessie is wide-eyed and ramping up the defense portion of this story.

  "You cut my bangs in half, Jessie. Right before the Christmas pageant." I hold up two fingers in the air and mimic scissors. "Choppity-chop right off."

  "You let me." Jessie sighs. "After we agreed it was unfair I never got to practice."

  It's true, I did. Because it always seemed terribly unfair, right up until my bangs were on the floor and I had to spend the remainder of the second grade growing them out.

  "She was the cutest little elf in the entire Christmas pageant with those ridiculous bangs," Jessie's telling Keller. "I think it helped her embrace her inner elf."

  "Real cute." I roll my eyes. "I was so traumatized I haven't had bangs since." It's true. Once I grew them out again I kept them the same length as my hair.

  "You two go way back then," Keller observes with a gleam in his eye. "Jessie," he drawls, turning the chair ever so slightly, "tell me about the kind of guy Ginger went for in high school when she wasn't wasting her time pining over Matty Novak."

  "Let's not do that," I quickly intercede. I most surely do not need for Jessie to regale Keller with embarrassing stories of boyfriends past. Nada. Not happening.

  "Oh, let's!" Jessie's finished with my trim and claps her hands in delight at the idea.

  "I will one-star you on Yelp," I threaten.

  "Oh, stop. You'll do no such thing."

  "Just tell me how to convince this feisty little ginger snap to give me a chance," Keller says. He's talking to Jessie, but he's looking at me as he says it. And the way he looks at me makes my heart skip a beat. As if he's discovering something he likes and he's got all the time in the world for me to get on board.

  It sounds like kissing is definitely back on the table.

  Chapter 6

  "That was delightful," Keller quips as we exit the salon. "Where are we headed to next? Dentist appointment? Oil change? Perhaps a nail salon where you'll try to scare me off by requesting I get a pedicure with you?"

  I laugh, because he's being a really good sport. And because he's cute. And because I'm having fun spending an ordinary day with him. "Well, a pedicure sounds lovely, but it's December so it hardly seems practical."

  "Nothing about December is practical, Gingersnap. December is when magic takes over. Embrace it."

  Magic. It's a bit like a variety pack of sprinkles, isn't it? Something you think you've left behind in childhood, but then December comes and you believe all over again.

  We walk down Main Street, our steps slow as we pass cheery window displays and take in the holiday décor. Reindeer Falls is magic in December, that's a fact. Boughs of evergreen are stretched from one side of the street to the other, lights interwoven into the greens that will glow as soon as the sun sets. Wreaths tied with bright red ribbons hang from every old-fashioned lamp post. Jumbo candy canes are fixed to just about anything that's bolted down. Post office boxes, traffic lights, park benches.

  It looks like a movie set.

  And it feels like magic.

  Somehow, without meaning to, I've walked us down to my favorite part of Main Street. The spot where the Cass River curves. A bridge connects Main Street in a perfect straight line from one side of the river to the other. To the left is a covered bridge that is every bit as romantic as it sounds. Exactly the kind of thing you'd expect to see in a small fairy-tale town like Reindeer Falls. It connects a Bavarian-themed lodge to Main Street, the tourists walking across to take in the charms of our downtown.

  To the right, a short half-block over, in a little elbow of land where Mill Street becomes Gunzenhausen, is an old service station. Right behind it, the river drops in elevation, just enough for the water to flow down a ramp of rocks, making the tiniest of river falls. It's my favorite spot.

  There's a path along the river and in the summer, lots of green space and lush trees and flowers. But it's not summer now, so everything is covered in a light blanket of snow, including the sidewalk leading to the old service station. The one no longer being used as a service station. The one with a big Knight Realty sign propped up in the window. I should keep walking, or turn us around and head back to the car, but I don't.

  "What is this place?" Keller asks, clearly understanding there's a reason we left the shoveled sidewalks in favor of crunching over snow to approach a closed building.

  "It used to be an auto shop, but the owner needed more space so he moved to the other end of Main, down by the Kroger," I tell him, walking us over to one of the two garage bays. They've got glass doors, so we're able to peek inside. And I know it's
silly, but there's always been something about this property that gives me butterflies. Something magical. It's ridiculous, right? An old auto body shop should not make my heart race, yet it does. The possibilities of what it could be form one endless vision board in my head.

  "This is my dream location," I admit, looking for a reaction from him from the corner of my eye. "For Ginger's Bake Shop." I wonder if he can see the vision, if he can feel the magic, or if he'll think I'm crazy for wanting to renovate an old garage into a bakery.

  "Hmm," Keller hums while taking in the building, peering through the glass service doors. "It's a nice space. Great location."

  "It's too big for what I need though. So it doesn't really make sense."

  "It's the perfect size for a restaurant though," Keller observes.

  "I suppose, but a restaurant has never been my dream. I'd like a few tables, at most. Someplace I could serve a few customers at a time or do wedding cake sampling. But most of my business would be to-go orders, so paying for this much space wouldn't make any business sense."

  "It could, if you had a business partner."

  "I suppose."

  "I'd keep these garage doors, and use these old bays for open-air seating in the summer months," Keller says, clearly seeing all the potential. Clearly feeling the magic I feel here. "I bet you could add patio seating facing the river and add a concession stand pass-through window for an outdoor dog bakery. There's enough parking to accommodate all of this."

  "I'd paint the entire building white. Then I'd add a pink and white striped awning over the door and paint the walls inside the bakery pink. I know it's a little cliché, but I've always imagined a pink bakery. And pink bakery boxes tied up with string."

  "Sounds perfect."

  I shrug. "It's too big. A much bigger project than I could do alone. And I can't see any way to split the space. Besides, the owner isn't interested in leasing me a portion of the building, so it doesn't matter. There's a vacant building near the River Place shops that would make more sense. And that place already has a kitchen and would require a lot less work to open."

  "But does it have the magic? This other space?"

  It doesn't. But no one else understands that. On paper, the other space makes sense. In my heart, it doesn't quite fit.

  "What about you?" I ask. "Did you always dream of being a celebrity chef? Of having your own show on the Food Network?"

  "Not hardly, no. I'd always imagined owning a breakfast place," Keller says, stepping back to take in a wider view of the building.

  "Not a bakery?" I'm surprised. "But you have a show on the Food Network." I suppose I thought wanting a bakery of your own was some kind of prerequisite to having a show on the Food Network. "And you've got the Brunch, Biscuits & Tea bakery inside the Windsor Hotel in Las Vegas."

  He shrugs. "That's more of a business deal. It's not really mine, you know? I've been there a couple of times, for press mostly. But it's not a passion project. Not like this." He nods towards the building. "This feels more real to me than anything I'm doing with the Food Network, as fun as it is." He turns his head to face me, his eyes on mine before he speaks again. "This town, the people. You. It all reminds me of what's really important. Of what I'm missing."

  "What are you missing, exactly?"

  "Something real."

  The way he says that has a thousand tiny reindeer zipping around my stomach. As if he's feeling the same things I'm feeling. Like there could really be something between us, which is ridiculous, isn't it? We barely know each other! People don't really fall in love at first sight, do they? At least not outside of a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie they don't.

  "Why are you here, Keller? Hanging out with me? Charming me, flirting with me?"

  "Because I like you, Ginger." He brushes a strand of my hair off my face and tucks it behind my ear, the gesture so simple yet intimate.

  "Why? I'm not making it easy for you. Surely you could find someone easier." I say it softly because I don't really mean it. I don't want him to find someone easier. I want to know he's feeling as off kilter as I am right now.

  "I don't want someone easier. I want you. Besides, you like me too. You feel this between us. I know you do. The energy. The pull. The magic."

  "How can you be so sure of that?" I ask, heart racing. Because he's right. But also, how can he be so sure? Confident jackal.

  "Let's test it." He whispers the words a heartbeat from my lips. So close.

  "How?" I whisper back, even though I think I know exactly what kind of a test he's talking about.

  And then he kisses me. Right there outside the old auto shop. It's cold and there are a few snowflakes falling and somewhere a horn honks, but the entire focus of my life at that moment is Keller's lips on mine. He starts softly, a brush of his lips over mine, and just that, the barest chastest kiss, stirs a reaction in me unlike anything I've experienced before. Then he angles his head a fraction and presses more firmly, his lips separating mine, tasting and nipping. His skin is rough against mine, but warm. The kiss is delicious. He's delicious. I'm flushed from my head to my toes, heat rising to my cheeks as his tongue dips into my mouth and caresses my own. He's unhurried, taking his time to explore and rile and tease until I'm breathless and hot and very, very bothered.

  "Why did you do that?" I ask when he breaks his lips from mine, our foreheads touching and both of us breathing heavily. On the surface I suppose I'm asking why he kissed me. But what I'm really asking is how I'll ever survive without a million more kisses from him.

  "Did you not want me to?" He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, a tiny caress that affects me nearly as much as his kiss did.

  "No, I did," I say, shaking my head. Then I catch myself and nod my head. I probably look as unhinged as I feel. "I did want you to. I very much wanted you to, but..." I sigh, confused. “You're distracting me."

  "What am I distracting you from?" He dips his head lower, our foreheads barely touching as he waits for me to respond.

  "My life."

  "Maybe if I was in your life I wouldn't be distracting you from it."

  Well, sure, that sounds logical. Except it's not.

  "How would that even work, Keller? Because I like you. I like you more than I should. And maybe you're just playing with me. Maybe you just really like kittens. Maybe I'm simply an adorable diversion while you're in town filming this contest. Maybe you're not Reindeer Falls material." The thought of him not being Reindeer Falls material nearly breaks my heart and I haven't even fully given it to him yet.

  "What exactly does that mean, Ginger?"

  "It means you're leaving soon." I say it softly. We're still standing close together, and I realize he has one hand on my back, caressing me as if encouraging me to get it all out. "It means you might find Reindeer Falls really charming in December and be bored silly with it by January. Or it could mean that you're just a jerk who travels from town to town seducing women for their best recipes and then leaving them behind brokenhearted. Also, you're British. Are you even allowed to stay? What if the Queen wants you back? You probably make excellent biscuits. The Food Network gave you a television show with the word ‘biscuits’ in the title, which surely means you're good at making them."

  There. I think that was the gist of my concerns.

  Keller nods his head slowly, seemingly taking all of that into consideration.

  "Well. I suppose any of those things could happen," he agrees, which is the best sort of comfort, isn't it? No one wants to hear that their fears are too crazy to be validated. "But what if they don't?" he suggests, dipping his head to mine again. "It’s Christmas, Ginger, and anything is possible at Christmas. Have a little faith in the magic."

  Chapter 7

  The following day of competition I'm determined to make it through the day without being distracted by my Keller James crush. No way, no how.

  I'm distracted before the cameras even start rolling.

  Because the magic between Keller and me is off the charts.
Err, assuming he meant sexual tension and not like an actual mystical Christmas magic that couples unsuspecting people together for an eternity of true love.

  Dang, Christmas magic would be super cool though.

  In any case, Christmas lust is definitely real because I've got a raging case of it.

  I've never felt this level of chemistry with a man before, not like this. Not this insatiable pull, as if there really is a magic Christmas spell at work. Because I have to admit it's something more than just feeling familiar with him from watching him on TV. There's an intangible thing, some feeling or vibe between us. As if we were always meant to be something to one another.

  Normally when you meet someone there's a spark of interest followed by a period of maybes. Maybe this person would be a good fit. Maybe you might work well together as partners. As lovers. Maybe they’re the one, but also maybe not. During the maybes your brain is voicing every objection it can muster up. He's too tall or too short. Too political or too ambivalent. Too interested or not interested enough.

  Meeting Keller feels like Goldilocks finding her perfect fit.

  Or perhaps I've finally lost my ever-loving mind.

  Either way, I'm determined to keep my focus today. So I say a quick hello to him and the rest of the group when I arrive, then separate myself because simply being in the same room as him makes my heart beat in a wonky way while my traitorous eyeballs sneak a peek at him every chance they get. Which will not do, clearly. Eye on the prize, Ginger. Remember what's important, Ginger.

  Winning.

  Opening my own bakery.

  Except...

  Except that every Christmas movie ever made would tell me otherwise. They would tell me to remember the reason for the season and all that. Remind me that there's more to life than winning and work. Remind me to stop and smell the gingerbread and think about a potential future of babies and station wagons and happily-ever-afters. Somewhere a cupid dressed in a Santa suit would tell me to believe in the magic and potential of love.