Page 50 of Lighting Up Christmas

“You bake?”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Why is that astonishing?”

“I pictured you wielding other tools. Some of them flaming. You told me you know how to weld. I pictured flames and sparks flying.”

She laughed. “Your description is more accurate of my usual pastimes, but since you’ve made me lunch a couple of times and baked muffins, I thought I should dip my toe into the hostess pool.”

She watched him, her eyes shining like she was daring him to take a bite of the still-warm cookie. “This is pretty decent for me,” she said. “I like the idea of baking, but I get distracted—start too many things. Today I stayed in the kitchen so I wouldn’t burn the cookies to carbon. Enjoy this rare accomplishment.”

Zhang looked back at the tree. “Again something new to both of us—domestic bliss of cookie baking for you and decorating a Christmas tree for me.”

“The gauntlet dropped.” Riley lightly stroked the back of his hand, and even though he wore a work glove, her touch did something weird to his heart. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” she asked softly. “I thought it would be a fun new activity for you to try. I learned something about wine and had a tasting experience with a pro, and you can experience decorating a Christmas tree, something you said you’d never done, for an auction.”

“With a pro.”

“You mock.” Riley raised her eyebrows. “But I do know how to rock the Christmas spirit. We just need a theme.”

“Christmas.”

“Clever. You don’t need to eat that,” she said. “I made several kinds. I thought I could take them down to Rose House later this morning. It’s a day shelter for women, and they serve lunch. I’m sure some people would appreciate my attempts at domesticity.”

Was he offending her? He couldn’t tell. Normally, he didn’t care. But with Riley, he found himself missing her smile—the half one that perpetually hovered at the corners of her lips and then the full-on smile that lit her eyes and scrunched her cheeks.

He bit into the cookie and chewed.

“Grand Marnier?” he asked, surprised.

“Got it in one.” Riley did a little dance.

He let the flavors explode in his mouth—the rich chocolate that was dark but not as sweet as he was thinking and then the liqueur.

“It’s good. Not pretty, but good.”

“There’s a compliment hiding in there,” Riley said wryly.

“I’ve heard it’s a commonly held belief by men that women adore chocolate and make all sorts of orgasmic noises while consuming it.”

“Meaning the women at the shelter will love my cookies?”

“High probability.”

“I shall continue my culinary quest then.” Riley used the code to open her garage. “Thank you for dropping off the tree. I could have come to pick it up.”

He knew that, but he hadn’t wanted her to wrestle the large tree alone, even though she had already had to do so yesterday when they’d cut it down and he’d miscalculated. He still couldn’t believe he’d made such an error. He’d been enjoying the way Riley’s hair caught the light and contrasted against the green of the tree and how much she sparkled, and then the next thing he knew he was under the tree looking up at her very worried face.

“I wanted the drive. It helps me think.”

Riley nodded. She went to her garage and pulled out some gloves from a labeled drawer. “Me too.” She pulled on the gloves. “I love to crank the radio and drive the back roads and drink in my fill of views.”

“You seem like such an extrovert. I imagined you’d always want people around. I can picture you living in a city.”

“Unlikely,” Riley said. “I am very social. but I also love my alone time, especially in my workshop, although that is a misnomer. I outgrew the garage years ago. I might have to suck it up and rent something much bigger and give my Pippy her space back.”

“Pippy?” he queried.

“My truck.”

Of course she would name her truck. He looked around her shop. The floor was clean. It was well lit, not with tubes of fluorescent bulbs but with one of Riley’s lights. She had built-in shelves with matching labeled tubs on one side and a large tool area and then a built-in cabinet with shelves and drawers. A massive peg board on the backwall held wire structures wrapped in small lights held up by various hooks. Some were small and some large, and he recognized a few shapes: butterflies, an owl, a hawk. He wondered what they were and what they’d look like litup. Was this what she’d been talking about while they’d walked by the river?

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