Page 29 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

Picking up her water glass, she tries to hide her smirk behind it. “I’m sorry,” she protests when I glare at her. “It’s really not funny, but I can just imagine him being all cantankerous about the whole thing. My dad would probably be the same way in his shoes. God, I can’t even imagine how that would go. Could you? Grumpy Santa trying to listen to kids tell him what they want for Christmas?” She points at me. “Because you know he wouldn’t stop just because he hurt his hip, no matter what the doctor or physical therapist tried to tell him. He’d argue that sitting in a chair all day is exactly what his body needs. Except having kids sit on his lap would probably hurt.”

I can’t help chuckling at the picture she paints. “Yeah, Grampy tried the, ‘I’m supposed to be up and moving, why can’t I do that in the bakery?’ line of reasoning, but no one was buying it. Not the doctors or the physical therapist or Nana or my mom or aunts.” I spread my arms. “Hence me coming here.” I shrug again. “But back to your real question, coming back to help like this makes me realize how old my grandparents are getting. Even if Grampy gets back to full capacity, how long can that last? What if he actually would like to retire, or at least only work when he wants to?”

Her face grows serious as I talk. “Are you saying you want to stay here?”

I hook my mouth to the side and scratch my cheek. “It’s an idea. I haven’t had time to talk to my grandparents about it, so I don’t know what they’d say. But neither my mom nor her sisters wants to take over the bakery. Wouldn’t it be better for it to stay in the family? He’s already hired another baker. She’d stay, of course. I’d keep things the same. Just … I’d be the one in charge. Eventually. And they could do whatever they want.”

Something softens in her face. “I can see that,” she says quietly. “I’m the product of a family business too. And while there’s no chance of me taking over since Sarah claimed that job for herself, I definitely understand the appeal.”

“Would you want to? If Sarah hadn’t already taken the job, I mean. If it were an option. Would you rather move back here and run the Christmas Emporium?”

Straightening her spine, she sucks in a breath, her eyes narrowing as she stares at a spot over my head. “Maybe?” she says at length. “Probably. I dunno. It’s never really even been an option. Of course, I could move home after I graduate and work in the shop but …” She bites her lip and shakes her head.

“But it’s different working for your sister as a full-time job than taking over from your parents would be.”

She lets out a long breath. “Exactly. I feel like coming back would be a step backward, you know? It’d just be the same as when I’m home on breaks, but forever.”

“It wouldn’t have to be exactly the same,” I point out. “You wouldn’thaveto live with your parents. You could find your own place.”

She gives me a skeptical look. “Sure. But have you looked at rent prices around here lately?”

I shake my head. “I can’t say that I have.”

“Unless they decided to give me a big raise, I’m not sure how possible that would be. And while I’m used to living with roommates, the off-season options in Arcadian Falls aren’t exactly overflowing, you know?”

I nod, though I don’t really know. I haven’t been back in ages, and every time I’ve visited, it’s during one of the high tourism times—summer or Christmas. While I know, intellectually, that Arcadian Falls is pretty small, it feels so busy whenever I’ve been here since we moved away that I’ve never seen it as the sleepy little town it was when I was a kid. And as a kid, I wasn’t exactly aware of how small and sleepy it was until we moved to a suburb of Portland.

After I pay, I walk her to the car, enjoying the way she automatically wraps her arm through mine like we did on the way in. Like that’s how we’re supposed to walk together.

She slips away from my hold as we get to the car, stepping aside to allow me to open the door for her. Maybe it’s old fashioned, but I like doing it, and I like that she lets me, smiling as she climbs in.

“Do I need to take you back to pick up your car? Or can I drive you home?” I ask once we’re inside with the car running, the heat on full blast, though fortunately it hasn’t snowed since we went inside.

“I rode with my parents this morning, so you can drive me home.”

Another surge of adrenaline spikes my bloodstream as I nod, smoothly navigating out of the parking lot and driving to her parents’ house.

I pull into the driveway behind the large white pickup parked there. “Can I walk you to the door?”

She grimaces and shakes her head. “Better not. Any other time, I’d say yes, but with both Daniels boys in residence?” Her eyes wide, she shakes her head again.

I give her a lopsided smile. “I can take the heat.”

Reaching over, she pats my arm. “Maybeyoucan, but I assure you,Icannot. I have no desire to hear my brothers’ opinions for the rest of my life.”

My eyebrows jump. “The rest of your life?”

She shrugs. “I might be exaggerating a little.” She pinches her index finger and thumb together in front of her face and squints. God, she’s cute. “But I’d for sure hear all kinds of ridiculous things from them for the rest of the weekend, at minimum. Most likely the rest of the trip.”

“Isn’t that likely to happen eventually, anyway? What about our next date?”

She stills, her eyes wide. Then a smile stretches across her face. “Well, since you hadn’t said anything about anextdate, I figured it was safer not to assume …”

“I’d like there to be a next date.”

“Me too.” She sighs. “Regardless, tonight’s been too wonderful, and I don’t want to ruin it by my stinky older brothers hassling me about getting a goodnight kiss on the front step. I feel like a pimply fourteen-year-old enough with them around. I don’t need to add any fuel to that fire.”

I chuckle at that image. “A goodnight kiss?”

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