Page 39 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

“You can’t retire,” Holly countered, expertly piping intricate swirls onto her own gingerbread house. “Not until you’ve redeemed yourself from the mess you made of the cookies at my birthday party last year.”

“That was art,” Grace deadpanned. “Abstract art.”

Robin snorted from her corner of the table. She was focused on adding delicate candy windows to her own gingerbread creation, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. “You’re lucky Joan’s watching the kids. Abby would be giving you the side-eye for eating all that candy instead of decorating with it.”

I smiled at the thought of Abby helping Joan wrangle the little ones at the inn so the four of us could hang at Robin and Jack’s house in our Christmas pajamas. Grace’s oldest daughter had turned into such a sweet helper, always eager to take charge of the little ones in their growing family.

“She’s really good with them,” Holly said, arranging a line of gumdrops along her gingerbread roof. “Even though I’ve heard she’s wondering when she’ll be old enough to join our girls’ nights instead of being counted as one of the kids.”

“True,” Robin said, leaning back in her chair and stealing a piece of chocolate from Grace’s bag. “But I told her it’s not an age thing, it’s a generational thing.”

We all chuckled at that, and then Grace lifted a finger. “Can I make a suggestion for the next girls’ night?”

“Please do,” Robin replied.

“Can we just pop some popcorn and have a cheesy holiday romcom marathon? It’ll save me from embarrassing myself with my icing art, and I’ve seen some of the ones they’re advertising for this year and a few of them actually look good.”

“That would be great. And speaking of cheesy holiday romcoms,” Holly said, sitting up straighter, “we need to plan a day for our annual dress shopping for the Gingerbread Ball. The clock’s ticking.”

Robin looked up from her masterpiece. “I can’t believe it’s that time already.”

Holly grinned. “Don’t act like you’re not excited. You love seeing Jack in a tux.”

I forced a smile as Robin made a joke about loving Jack in a tux almost as much as in his police uniform, trying to focus on my icing instead of the conversation. The Gingerbread Ball. Last year, I’d been so excited for it, counting down the days until I’d get to go with that guy who turned out to be a walking red flag in a tailored suit. My bad.

“I don’t know,” I said, keeping my voice light. “I think I might sit this one out after last year.”

All three of them turned to stare at me like I’d suggested canceling Christmas.

Grace held up a hand. “No way. Last year doesn’t count. The whole thing was snowed out, remember? I’ve never gotten to go to the ball that no one seems to shut up about, so I’m not missing this. And neither are you.”

“She’s right,” Robin said, leaning back in her chair. “This year, everyone’s going to go all out. You can’t miss it.”

Holly tilted her head at me. “You’re not worried about anything like that happening again, are you?”

“The snow?” I asked lamely, knowing that wasn’t what she meant. She gave me a look that said as much, so I sighed. “Ya never know.”

“This year is going to be different,” Grace said firmly. “You’ll have us, and you’ll have a good time. No snow. No drama. No bad guys.”

Robin gave me a sly grin. “Are you hoping Hudson will ask you to go?”

My cheeks flushed, and I busied myself with adjusting a crooked gumdrop on my gingerbread roof. “Hudson?”

“Oh, come on,” Robin said. “The sparks between you and Hudson? They’re practically visible. He’s protective, charming, and let’s not forget gorgeous.”

“Ooh, maybe she’s hoping Jamie will ask her,” Holly piped up. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“No, I’m not?—”

“But…” Grace cut in, “you also don’t stop talking about your pen pal. He’s sweet, he makes you laugh, and you practically glow every time you get a new letter.”

My head snapped up. “Hush!”

“Oh, come on,” Robin said with a laugh. “We all know you’ve been daydreaming about your pen pal. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“It’s weird to have butterflies for a guy when I don’t even know what he looks like. He could be ninety years old or… married.”

Holly snorted delicately. “First of all, Joan would never match you with someone like that. Second, I happen to know your pen pal is averyhandsome man.”

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