Page 62 of Christmas in Paradise

The cuteness factor in Sparks Electric increases exponentially once Charly has her own moose rack. Between these two and Mrs. C’s shelf of miniature animals wearing vests and what she calls breeches, Grandpa would be very disappointed in what I’ve done to his shop if he walked in right now.

Good thing he spends winters in Arizona, because if I have my way, I will fill this place up with baked goods, silly hats, little-girl giggles, and yipping puppies.

Also hope.

And Hope.

Chapter 20

Hope

While Mrs. C. shows Charly all her little animals, I split a pumpkin shortbread bar with Seb. Charly and I still have on our matching moose rack hats, which I insisted paying Mrs. C. for, with the promise that I’d leave them long enough for her to stitch a Merry Moosemas patch across the front.

I’m late for work. Charly’s late for preschool. And I’m enjoying every minute of this. I made the right decision this morning to pull into the parking lot when I saw Seb loading his truck.

I still haven’t gotten around to asking Seb the question I came to ask. I’m supposed to be on official Yulefest business, but that can wait.

It’s taken me a few days to work up the courage to follow Carson and Steve’s advice to not let Seb give up, especially when he kept running every time I saw him. I wondered if he thought I was mad about Uncle Rad nipping Charly or if he was mad that I left early after he’d made plans to teach Charly the dance.

But I think he felt uncertain about how to get to know not just Charly but alsomeas Charly’s mom.

I wasn’t joking when I told him I’ma lot.

But he figured out by himself that a room full of electrical products is not a safe place to leave a child alone. That’s progress. He didn’t leave his dog in the same room.That’sprogress. He reached for Charly’s hand before she reached for his.

That’s adorable.

I know I should listen to what my head is telling me about Seb being a bad idea, but my instinct is telling me not to give up hope that he’ll keep figuring out what to do. Because, if there’s a chance even a little bit of our chemistry from the summer could become something more, I might have the kind of relationship I’ve only dreamed of.

“These are delicious.” I pop the last bit of bar in my mouth. “Did your mom make them?”

Mrs. C. is explaining something about a little fox to Charly, but without missing a beat, she shoots Seb a raised eyebrow and a warning look that only a teacher could perfect. That look that says,there’s a right answer to this question.

“You know what your hat needs?” He narrows his eyes at my forehead, completely ignoring my question. “Lights.”

“Lights?” This is a more interesting topic than his mom making dessert bars.

“Yes. Lights.” He takes the hat off my head, then asks Charly if he can take hers too.

She hands it to him, then bends down to pet Uncle Rad who’s still attached by her leash to Seb’s belt loop. He unties her and hands the leash to Mrs. C.

“Do you mind? So Charly can pet her?” he asks, even though he’s already forced the leash into her hand.

“Hope asked who made the bars. I think you should tell her.” Mrs. C. holds the leash back to him.

His face folds into a challenge, but she drops her hand.

“Fine,” he relents and turns back to me. “I made them. I like to bake. It’s kind of a hobby of mine.”

Mrs. C. smiles with satisfaction and lets her hand follow. “Good boy.”

Seb glares at her then heads to the backroom.

“Wait!” I drop my purse to the floor next to the box of gnomes I brought. I glance at it long enough to make sure it’s still closed.

Then I run after Seb, trying to keep up with his long, quick strides. “You like to bake?”

I follow him to a table tucked in a corner in the back room. Tools hang on a pegboard on the wall behind and to the side of the table. He drops the hats, then goes to the opposite corner where there are boxes of supplies.

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