Page 45 of Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty

“Goodbye, Mom.” Hanging up, I toss my phone onto the desk and slump forward, rubbing my face. Maybe answering her call was a bad idea, but it’s nice to know my ex-fiancée has moved on. I want her to be happy. She deserves it.

I send Bernice a quick text just to let her know my mother was asking about her, then I gather up my things and turn off my computer. As I bundle into my coat and leave my office, I seeTaylor has already gone home and the only car left in the parking lot is Margret’s.

“Margret?” I knock on her door and peek into the office. “You’re not staying, are you?”

“God, no,” Margret wheezes. “My husband is bringing the truck to pick me up, then I’m heading home. Don’t you worry.”

“Okay. What’s the, uh… do you have a protocol for this kind of weather? How long do we stay closed for?”

“Technically, until there’s less than six inches of snow on the ground,” Margret replies with a chuckle. “But my rule of thumb is that if I can drive to work in my beat-up old car, then I can work. But I’ll give you a call. Go, James. Go home before you get stuck here.”

I say my goodbye and hurry outside where I’m immediately almost knocked off my feet by a gust of bitterly cold wind. Pulling the collar of my coat up to my ears, I duck my head down into the warmth and brace against the wind and snow whipping through the air.

Ice scalds my cheeks as I walk through the deserted town, with most people already safe inside their homes. The storm has descended so fast that by the time I reach the town square, I can barely see two feet in front of me. It’s still a little way until I reach the motel, but as my feet slide on the snow and I lurch against a lamppost to stop myself from falling, I spot a golden light.

Sweet Noel is still lit up like a Christmas tree, and I see a distant shadow moving past the window.

Is Lily still there?

I can’t leave her, not without making sure she’s okay. Bracing against the wind, I ignore my numb ears and frozen fingertips that remain cold no matter how deep I shove them into my pockets and trudge toward the bakery.

Each step becomes a battle as the wind picks up, and my cheeks flash hot with pain from the snow cutting across my freezing face. Closer and closer I get to the alluring warmth of the bakery. My feet sink into deep snow, and the snow-shoveling efforts of this morning’s teens are well and truly erased.

Just as I reach the glittering door of the bakery, it suddenly swings open. A hand grabs my jacket and jerks me inside.

“James? Get inside, you fool!”

17

LILY

“Get inside, get inside!” I usher James in as quickly as I can and slam the door closed, causing the bell above the frame to jingle violently.

James stands a few feet inside, stamping his feet against the mat to dislodge the snow—not that it’s much use. He’s covered from head to toe in snow. Even his eyebrows have turned white. I pat his shoulder briefly, contemplating what I could do to help get the snow off, and then I grab his collar.

“Come on, take this off before you catch your death. Why were you even out there when there’s a storm coming?”

“I think it’s already here.” James laughs, sliding his arms out of his coat. “I was heading home. Left work later than I planned, but when I saw the light on, I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to get stuck here.”

I groan softly, motioning for James to follow me through to the back, where it’s much warmer.

“I’m settled in for the night, I’m afraid. All the cakes I lost last week plus the man hours? I’m on severe catch-up duty to get all of this out before Christmas.”

“Surely, people are understanding?” James asks, rubbing his bright red hands together. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but people also want their cakes for their Christmas parties and displays, plus with the amount of money that changed hands at the auction, I don’t want anyone to start taking that back because I’m slow.”

I drape James’s coat near the back door, where it can dry onto one of the back mats from the heat of the kitchen, then I turn on the kettle. “Here, warm yourself by the oven. The heat it gives off will make you forget about the storm.”

“Thanks.” James moves as directed, shivering as he steps into the waves of warmth pouring from the oven. “So, you’re just going to be here all night?”

“That’s the plan,” I say, moving to make him a cup of tea while making sure my next batch of batter doesn’t over-fluff in the mixer. “Emma is with her grandparents, and I was going to try and make it back to them, but the day just got away from me.”

“I know that feeling.” James stomps his feet slightly. “Fuck. You don’t get cold like this in the city.”

I glance at him over my shoulder and laugh. “Is nature too harsh for you, city boy?”

“It might be.” He chuckles. “When I left the clinic, I could see. By the time I reached the town square, it was like I was drowning in white.”

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