Page 24 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

He grins. “Tomorrow?”

I smile too. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“I’ll pick you up at the North Pole.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Austin

Givingmyself twenty-four hours to plan a date means I don’t have a lot of time to psych myself out about it, and working all day at ChristmasFest provides an excellent distraction from my nerves. But it also means I don’t have much time to plan. I kinda still can’t believe she actually said yes. When she asked if it was a date, Iknewshe was going to say no. That calling it a date was the killer.

But also, that’s what I want. A date. Not platonic friends or anything else.

That’s the real reason I can finally admit to myself that I want her to not hate me. I think she’s pretty and I want to date her and get to know her as an adult. I want to find out what she does for fun now. What she’s getting her degree in, what her plans are after graduation—assuming she’s in college. Or if she’s not, what she’s doing when it’s not ChristmasFest time.

After asking her out at the open house, we walked back to the party together and largely went our separate ways, both ofus claimed by conversations with other people vying for our attention. But I caught her looking at me several times as the evening progressed. I couldn’t help looking for her over and over and over again, wondering what she was doing, who she was talking to, watching her sway to the songs she liked, mouthing the words with her sister, dancing with the little girl who must be her niece or something.

I left while the party was still in full swing, wanting to have time to figure out where to take Nora tonight. I’ve landed on a couple of options, and I’m planning on letting Nora pick what she’s in the mood for. If she wants drinks and appetizers, then The Filling Station. If she’s up for a more standard dinner date, then I think we’ll go to Seasons.

I wore my usual Give and Cake T-shirt for work today, but I paired it with khakis after saying a prayer to the bakery gods that I don’t spill anything on myself today, or if I do that it’s only on my apron. By mid-afternoon, so far, so good. I have a button-down hanging in my car that I’ll put on before I meet Nora so I can look like I’m actually dressed for a date.

That was one of the trickiest parts—figuring out what to wear that looks like I made an effort but doesn’t require going home to change.

I think—I hope—it’ll be okay.

Of course, since I’m having this type of clothing crisis, I’m hoping I didn’t put Nora in an awkward position. She usually changes clothes entirely, though, so hopefully she has something she feels good about wearing on a date that’s easy to change into here.

I mean, she can wear jeans and a T-shirt or her elf costume for all I care. But I want her to feel comfortable.

Give and Cake is slammed today. The whole ChristmasFest is packed since it’s the weekend before Christmas, and it only gets more crowded as the day goes on.

One nice thing about both of us working here is that we’ll both understand if the other doesn’t get done exactly on time. On days like today it’s a challenge to get people to leave when the day’s over, and some of them like to linger long past the eight o’clock closing time.

I can imagine visits and pictures with Santa are even worse than a bakery kiosk. If they get behind or a kid is having difficulty, how do you politely but firmly get back on track? It’s been a while since I’ve spent much time around the Daniels family, but I can’t imagine Mr. Daniels being like, “Time to go, kid! Get off my lap and go away! Merry Christmas!” He’s nothing like the Santa in that old movie where the kid asks for a BB gun and gets told he’ll shoot his eye out then shoved down a slide with Santa’s boot in his face.

My dad thought that movie was hilarious and insisted on watching it every year, while my mom hates it. Though she did get him a leg lamp ornament for Christmas one year, and it’s his favorite thing. She rolls her eyes when he gets it out to hang it on the tree, but she’s smiling the whole time, so even if she hates the movie, I can tell she likes making my dad happy.

Despite the crowds, I manage to catch a few glimpses of Nora, and she even stops by on one of her breaks. I’m so busy, I don’t even see her get in line, so it’s a surprise when I glance up after helping a customer and notice she’s three people back.

She grins and waves at me, and I smile back but quickly resume helping the next person in line. Of course, the sooner I get through the people between us, the sooner I can talk to her.

She’s still smiling when she reaches the counter. “Hey,” she breathes, seeming suddenly shy.

“Hi.” We stare at each other for a second, both of us at a loss for what to say. Then it hits me that she’s probably here to buy something. “What can I get you? A scone? A cookie? I don’t have any elves left today, and I gave you all the ones that look like you. There’s just snowmen and Santas left.”

“Oh, uh …” Blinking, she looks at the pastry case, her expression blank.

Chuckling, I lean against the counter and pitch my voice low. “Did you just come by to say hi?”

Her cheeks pink, and she bites her lip. But then she shakes her head. “No,” she rasps. Clearing her throat, she tries again. “No. I mean, yes, I did want to say hi. And make sure we’re still on for tonight? But I also want a cookie. Since you’re out of elves, I guess I’ll settle for a snowman.” She makes a big show of being put out by the cookie choice, and I chuckle.

“Yes, we’re definitely still on for tonight,” I answer as I get her cookie for her. “I didn’t make this batch of cookies, so you’ll have to tell me how mine compare later.”

Her eyes twinkle as she accepts the bag, and her fingers brush against mine, once again sending a zing through me. “I’ll be sure to give a detailed report over dinner.”

“I look forward to it.”

A throat clears loudly behind us. “Are you two going to flirt all day?” says the middle-aged woman standing behind Nora. “Or can I get a cookie too? Or”—her eyebrows wiggle—“do all cookie orders come with that kind of flirting?”

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