Page 6 of Baking Spirits Bright!

“Your cookies are beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She points to a tray of ice skates. “These are a new mint flavor for winter.”

“What do those taste like?” a man’s voice asks beside me.

I turn to Ryan, the guy I ran into earlier—literally.

“Hey again.” He grins.

“Hi.” My face heats up, and I drop my gaze to the cookies.

“Those are red velvet. One of my favorites,” Carla says.

Also, one of mine. I reach for a Santa and take a bite. Velvety and delicious.

“Is it good?”

I slant my gaze to Ryan and nod.

He bites into a Santa and makes a noise that causes me to blush. His free hand hovers over the plate. “May I try another?”

“Help yourself.” Carla smiles.

He chooses a reindeer in a sweater and bites into the antlers. “Perfect mixture of nutmeg and cinnamon.”

She smiles wider. I narrow my eyes. Who is this attractive man from out of town with a keen sense of taste?

“Did you find your room?” I ask.

He snaps out of his cookie trance and cocks his mouth into a grin. “I did, then decided it wasn’t for me.”

I lift my chin. He stacks the two half-eaten cookies on his palm and picks up a cow butt.

“Thanks.” He nods to Carla. Then he turns and bites into the cow.

I watch him start to walk away as I select a reindeer, then catch up to him. He stops, as if expecting me to join him.

“I’m waiting to meet a guy with an Airbnb,” he offers.

“Too bad Gamer’s Paradise is booked up, or you could get a room there.”

“Isn’t that a hunting place? It came up on Google.”

“Yeah, but they have a luxury lodge. It’s really nice. A lot of weddings take place there.”

I know it better than most, since I considered getting married there a few years back.

“Oh.” His brows pinch together, and he eats the tail of the cow. “Do a lot of tourists come to town this time of year?”

“Typically, no. But a few people are staying at the lodge to help film the bake-off, and the other rooms are booked by those attending the Southeast Regional Milk Goat Show.”

He chuckles. “Sounds like something from my area.”

I laugh. “It’s at the 4-H building, and I can’t say I’ve been.”

“What’s with all the fans?” He tilts his head toward the skating rink.

I roll my eyes. “Makeshift skating rink. They do it every year.” I hook my thumb behind us. “And you saw the cow on the main field, I assume.”

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