Page 6 of A Gingerbread Romance

A wide range of interests displayed a lack of rigidity, and that was refreshing, after so many women he’d known who’d wanted things exactly their way. “Also, in that order?”

She chuckled. “Give or take.”

He laughed, amused. “You’ve got great taste.”

“Thank you.” She raised her glass. He lifted his, and she tapped them together. “How about you?”

He explained that he also liked a wide range of music and movies. “And hey, that’s interesting what you said about your grandmother raising you. I was raised by an aunt.”

“Really?” Her head jerked back. “How did that come about?”

He explained in short detail how his father had died when he was twelve and his mother two years later, both of illness. How he’d taken on a much bigger role in the household as the oldest when their Aunt Linda had taken over raising him and his brothers.

“Wow, that must’ve been so hard, losing them both, and when you were so young.” Her gaze met his, and he saw the warmth and understanding in her eyes. “Your aunt sounds like a wonderful person,” she said. Greta explained that her unwed mother had fallen in with the wrong people when Greta was a baby. The courts had given her grandparents full custody. She’d only seen her mother twice in thirty years.

“So, you know what it’s like not to have a mom or a dad, then too, huh?” It surprised him how much he appreciated the fact that she did.

She nodded. “Far too well, I’m afraid. But my grandparents always took good care of me, so I can’t say that I missed my mom as much as I might have, otherwise.”

Jonathan nodded back. Linda had been a loving and caring adoptive parent for him and for Wade and Luke, too. He would be eternally grateful to her. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Jonathan’s eyes locked on Greta’s, and he again forced his gaze away, taking another swig of his beer. He’d better change the subject again. Something lighter. Because he was getting to know this woman too well already and liking too much of what he saw. “So, what should I do while I’m in New Haven Falls? Any interesting landmarks? Scenic spots only the locals know about?”

Greta thought about it for a moment, tapping her fingers, with their neatly trimmed pink nails, against her glass. “Well, are you outdoorsy at all? Her gaze fell on his tie. I can’t tell by what you’re wearing.”

He glanced down at his dress shirt and suit pants. “Yeah, I guess this might not exactly screamsportsman, but yeah, I love the outdoors. Not that I have the time very often.”

She nodded and sipped from her drink, and he pulled his eyes away from the tight fitting, short-sleeved red sweater that did nothing to disguise how very well-proportioned she was. “Have you been to the state park outside of town?”

“No, is it good?” he replied.

“It’s beautiful. My favorite spot is a little waterfall that freezes over this time of year. I like to ski out there at least once every winter.”

“Ski?” Jonathan sat forward, confused but grateful, once again, for a new subject that he could expand upon. “Is it on the North Star’s property?” His brother, Luke and his new sister-in-law, Chloe—who’d been married for about six months—worked for the local ski resort about half an hour outside of town. Jonathan had done all the runs there many times and couldn’t remember any waterfalls or creeks reachable in downhill gear.

“Not that kind. Cross-country skiing.”

“Ohhh,” said Jonathan, drawing out the word. “That makes more sense.”

“Have you ever been?” Greta dipped a chicken finger into the ranch dressing and took a bite.

He shook his head and reached for the appetizers. He never had. “I hear it’s a workout, though.”

She swallowed. “It is. I was a cross-country runner in high school. Cross-country skiing isn’t so different. Except for the outfit, of course.” She grinned. “And the skis.”

Jonathan imagined her in a pair of short shorts, warming up for a run. He felt his forehead warming. “I’d love to try it sometime. Maybe you can take me?”

Uh-oh. That slipped right out. He glanced away for a second.

She blushed, grinning. “Uh, sure. That would be great.”

Okay, so he’d just pushed himself into second-date territory. He took a calming breath and tried to regain the easy banter.

“Don’t tell my brother, Luke, though. He’s a downhill instructor at the North Star. Lives for speed and moguls and chair lifts and all that high-elevation stuff. I’m not sure he’d approve.”

Greta cocked an eyebrow, still smiling. “It’ll be our little secret,” she teased, and gosh, if he wanted to keep on seeing those dimples light up her face. His heart thumped.

“You must be close with your family. You’ve mentioned your brothers a few times already.”

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