Page 3 of The Gingerbread Bakery
He took a sip. It was delicious, though. Hard to feel bad about anything with a mug full of cocoa in your hands.
Mac continued his stroll through the market, pausing every now and then at a crafter’s table in an attempt to find the perfect gift. It wasn’t an entirely selfless act. He was hoping a thoughtful gift would help soften the blow when he told his parents his new plan. Well, it wasn’t so much a plan as a general notion. An idea to wander somewhere other than Dream Harbor. His half-baked thought that he could drive cross-country to help him figure out what the hell to do with his life. He figured several months in a car by himself would help with that.
A familiar face snagged his attention.
Annabelle Andrews sat in front of him in fifth-period Economics. Or she did last year, anyway, before they’d both graduated. He’d spent a lot of the year resisting the urge to tug on her sleek ponytail and he only occasionally poked her in the back with the eraser end of his pencil to ask her what assignment they had due that day. She’d always answered with an exasperated sigh, like he was disappointing her in every way.
He’d gone to school with Annie since they were five and she had never liked him, so in fairness, he had never liked her, either. She was a classic over-achiever, the type who practically begged the teacher for extra credit, whereas he preferred to achieve just enough to pass. Unless it was on the lacrosse field. That was where he was more than happy to give it all he had. Not that Annabelle Andrews gave a shit about sports. Or the people that played them.
Not that he cared what she cared about.
And here she was, still in town, just like him. Interesting.
She was set up at a table with a sign on the front readingAnnie’s Baked Goods. An assortment of Christmas cookies wrapped in holiday cellophane were displayed on the table. Mac waited while an older couple picked out some cookies and paid a smiling Annie. The smile dropped when she saw him standing there.
‘Annabelle,’ he said, dipping his head in acknowledgment.
‘It’s Annie, and you know it. What are you even doing here?’
He shrugged, wishing he’d tossed his stupid marshmallow-topped drink before this encounter. ‘Shopping. What are you doing here? I figured you’d be off at Harvard or something like that.’
Annie scowled. ‘This isn’t some teen movie where everyone goes to an Ivy League school at the end. My family has six kids. Do you really think they can afford for me to go to Harvard?’ She rolled her eyes like he was an idiot—one of the many habits that unsurprisingly made him not like her very much.
‘My mistake,’ he ground out. ‘I just wasn’t expecting to see you running abake saleafter all that extra homework you did in Econ.’
Annie slapped her hands onto the table and leaned forward. A slight flush had worked its way up her pale cheeks in a way Mac chose not to find appealing.
‘This bake sale is the start of my new business venture. I’m taking business classes at the community college and selling cookies from an online shop for now. But give it a few years and you’ll see. I’ll be a very successful small-business owner.’
He didn’t doubt that for a second, but he wasn’t about to admit it.
‘Wow, I guess you have it all figured out.’
‘I do, actually,’ she said with a smug smile. ‘And what about you? Just hanging around Dream Harbor letting your mom cook and clean for you?’
He scoffed as if that was absurd, even though it was one hundred percent true.
‘Actually, I’m outta here after the holidays.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. Heading cross-country.’ The half-assed plan he’d been brewing in his head was cemented as soon as he spoke the words out loud.
‘Heading to what?’
‘It’s about the journey not the destination,’ he said, and instantly regretted how douchey that sounded.
Annie raised her eyebrows, but surprisingly didn’t call him out on that bullshit answer.
‘So, are you going to buy some cookies, or what?’
‘Uh… yeah. I’ll take some of the gingerbread ones.’
Annie gave him a genuine smile and, for a second, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
‘Those are my specialty,’ she said, handing him the small bag. ‘Try one.’
She waited while he opened the package and took out a small gingerbread man with icing features and buttons. Mac bit his head off.
