Page 28 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

I sigh again, lifting my hands and letting them drop on the table. “I’m so tired of school,” I admit. “The constant grind of deadlines and tests and papers. It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. But I don’t know what else to do with myself either. Portland’s expensive, and entry level jobs don’t pay well.”

He snorts. “Don’t I know it.”

“Exactly. So I’m not really sure what I’m going to do once May gets here, and my parents are annoyed that I don’t have any answers to their questions, and …” I sigh and bite my lip again, shaking my head. “I just don’t know, though. I don’t have answers. Not yet, at least. And I’m not sure I will by May either.”

Reaching across the table, he slides his fingers over mine, giving them a squeeze. “You’ll figure it out,” he says, the quiet certainty in his voice making me feel better than anything anyone else has said to me on the subject so far. “Even if you just do something in the meantime while you figure it out, you’ll eventually figure it out. You’ll be okay. I promise.”

My eyebrows jump. “You promise, huh?”

He gives me a cheeky grin. “Yup. I promise.”

“And what happens if I don’t figure it out? And I’m not okay? You gonna fix things for me?”

His grin grows wider. “Sure. Come find me in May if you don’t have it figured out yet. I’ll fix everything.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Austin

My heart ratespeeds up as I make that declaration. I don’t know how in the world I’d be able to fix everything, but I’d sure as hell try.

Nora smirks, shaking her head, and I’m grateful to be rescued by the waitress returning with our food.

Her story about dating a guy who couldn’t possibly order the same thing as anyone else makes me want to shake my head all over again. How ridiculous. And she gave that guy the time of day? He must’ve had other qualities that were appealing. Part of me wants to ask, but her comment about past relationships not being good first date conversation stops me.

Though we’re silent for a few minutes while we eat our food—I think we’re both starving—conversation resumes, and it’s light and easy for the rest of dinner. I can’t stop smiling—not that I want to—and it seems like Nora feels the same. She has a dimple in one cheek, and I can’t stop staring at it when it flashes my way.

I could happily live my life trying to catch a glimpse of that dimple as many times as possible.

After we finish eating, Nora pushes her plate away. I’m still moving around the remnants with my fork, but I’m watching her. “Dessert?” I ask, knowing the waitress will ask when she stops back by.

Nora sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I’m so full, I think I’d explode if I ate anymore.” She flashes that dimple at me again. “Besides, I have a box full of elf cookies at home to satisfy my sweet tooth later.”

I can’t help grinning. “You didn’t eat them all last night?”

She laughs. “God, no. I had one. Did you see how much food was at the party last night? I don’t think I could’ve polished off a box of cookies after that. Besides, I need my elf costume to fit the rest of the season at least. If I keep eating like I have been the last few days, I’ll be bursting the seams before next weekend.” She purses her lips and shakes her head. “Part of me wants to put them in the freezer so they stay fresh for longer. But with both my brothers home?” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t getanyif I did that.”

“We definitely don’t want that,” I agree, finishing my soda. “Those cookies aren’t for them, after all.”

“Too right, they’re not.” She’s so emphatic that it makes me laugh again.

“Exactly,” I add. “I made them for you. Not your brothers.”

She giggles. “You wouldn’t even want Dylan to have one?”

I shrug. “If you felt like sharing, of course that’s your prerogative. They’re your cookies, after all. But do I want Dylanto steal them? Absolutely not. I didn’t make them for him. He can come by and get a normal cookie if he wants one. Or a dozen. Or however many he likes. But I worked my ass off on your cookies with only you in mind.”

Her breath catches, and it hits me how significant that declaration is. I’m not holding back here. I’m showing all my cards. I want her.

“So we talked about my plans for the future,” she says after a moment. “But not yours. How long do you think you’ll stay in Arcadian Falls?”

That question pulls me up short. Because no matter how much I might want her, she’ll be leaving soon to return to Portland. And while that’s not ridiculously far away, it’s still not like I could see her daily or even weekly. Not while she’s busy finishing school and I’m here … doing whatever I’m doing. Helping with Give and Cake. But for how long? That’s the big question, of course. For all of us.

I lift one shoulder. “I’m not sure. Until Grampy’s back on his feet, for sure. Originally, we all thought he’d be back shortly after the new year.”

She hears my unspokenbutand raises her eyebrows. “But you don’t think that’s likely now?”

I shake my head slowly. “Not really. He’s so impatient that he’s actually sabotaging himself. It’s difficult for him to rest like he should. He thinks if the physical therapist tells him to do one set of exercises, three is better. He ended up overdoing it and having to go back to resting a lot and icing his hip to calm down the irritation he caused. They’re restarting the program from the beginning next week, and he’s super mad about it.”

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