Page 42 of A Taste of Christmas Magic

“Is this the part where I say you were right?”

“You can.”

“You were right, Chloe Maye Cramer. Right about the pop-up. Right about the type of food. And I was wrong. I had no idea what crowd to expect,” he said, and briefly his attention left her and skewered the milling crowds. He looked calculating and confident.

Chloe was conscious that the three Ms were watching the interaction avidly.

“We’re taking two weekend spots for the McAdenville light festival,” he said looking back at her, smiling. “If you ever get bored on a Friday or Saturday night.”

“I’m never bored,” Chloe confessed. How could she be? There was always music and books and lesson plans and grading. “But I’ll definitely work the counter for food and fun.”

“Good,” he said as she high-fived him through the window. “It’s a date.”

OMG! He just asked me on a date!

Chloe had no idea her spirits could soar any higher. It was a miracle she didn’t blast off.

“Jessica, Meghan, Sarah,” Rustin acknowledged them, the teasing light in his dark gaze gone as if it had never been there, and for a moment he looked like the angry, sullen teen stalking around town. But then his features smoothed, and a smile played at the corner of his stern mouth. “Happy holidays.”

His attention was back on his gas burners.

“I feel dissed,” Sarah smiled, “but you seem to have jumped to the front of the line of admirers, Chloe,” she teased.

“Better buy some boxing gloves. The town has lots of ladies sharpening their eye and lip liners, preparing to welcome Rustin back to town,” Meghan said. “I might have some Krav Maga tips.”

Meghan and Sarah broke into giggles.

“I’m surprised Belmont singletons haven’t broken The Wild Side door down yet to get to Rustin,” Chloe said honestly, taking the food that Rebekah handed her.

She handed one of the custom cones of fried chicken to an unusually quiet Jessica and the other to Meghan and Sarah, along with a serving of hush puppies. She juggled the other food and walked around the trailer to the other side, holding her credit card in her teeth.

“Gross, Chloe,” Meghan laughed. “What are you a puppy?” She grabbed the card out of Chloe’s mouth and wiped the edge along her red flowy pants she’d worn to every holiday concert for the past few years. “I think single ladies of Belmont are struggling with a strategy. They’re too terrified to pawn off a family casserole on a chef with a reputation for innovation and who’s bringing all kinds of heat in and out of the kitchen.”

Meghan made a sizzling sound and popped a hush puppy into her mouth.

“Damn,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back. “That is beyond delicious. Get your own, Jessica and Sarah.” She hugged the order of hush puppies to her chest. “Not sharing. I’ll hit the gym extra tomorrow.”

Twenty minutes later, Chloe walked with Jessica along the row of booths. Sarah and Meghan had split off to buy more presents and had ordered ‘no spying.’ Chloe kept waiting for her to dish.

What’s bothering her?

But Chloe felt weirdly too nervous to ask. Jessica chowed on the chicken strips and waffle, while Chloe shopped with intention; she was careful with her budget. She did prefer holiday markets with their creative wares, and the feeling of shopping locally always buoyed her spirits. But soon Jessica’s silence felt spectral, judgey even.

“You want to walk down Main Street? Some of the shops have stayed open. I thought I could buy candy canes to decorate the gift bags,” Chloe asked.

“As long as you don’t buy those handmade candy canes for your students,” Jessica warned. “Remember the year when even with the teacher discount Leigh Anne gave you, you broke your Christmas bank?”

“It was my first year teaching, so I was pretty broke to begin with. Your idea of baking Christmas cookies and having carafes of hot chocolate on the last day of class before the Christmas break is much more economical.”

“Oh. Chloe, I ate everything.” Jessica looked down at the empty cones that had held the hush puppies and the other that had had the fried chicken and waffle, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“Rustin’s cooking is that good,” Chloe said, happy Jessica had enjoyed the meal. Maybe her emotional vendetta against Rustin was fading. “Speaking of cooking, well, baking. Are we still on for our cookie-baking extravaganza?” She placed her palms together as if in prayer and hopped a half circle around Jessica on the sidewalk in front of the bookstore.

“You want to?” Jessica asked. “I thought you’d be asking the practically hometown hero celebrity chef to bake with you.”

Chloe blinked. Jessica had a tone.

“But it’s beenourthing,” she said. “We practice a new mulled wine recipe for the Maye open house tea, taste test it, and then bake Christmas cookies for my students and the family holiday tea.”

---