Page 30 of The Holiday Honeymoon Switch
“I love this cookie,” she says. “I want to marry this cookie. I want to make an honest cookie out of it. What is it?”
He laughs. “It’s a peppermint snowdrift.” He thinks for a moment. “Basically, dark chocolate cookie batter around a peppermint patty. It’s my grandma’s recipe. If there’s a better cookie in the world, I don’t know what it is. Except they have, like, a dozen other flavors at the café, and they’re all comparable. The cookie flavors, like the sandwiches, rotate. So you never know what you’re going to get from day to day.”
“It’s so good.” Holly dabs at the corners of her mouth with a paper napkin. “Do I have frosting on my face?” she asks.
He shakes his head and laughs.
“So, when did you move out here to this perfect little town?”
“My grandparents always lived in Krimbo, but my parents came out here in my senior year. My mom got sick.”
“Oh—is that why you didn’t come to grad, your mom was sick? I’m so sorry, Aiden.”
“You noticed? That I wasn’t at grad?”
“Of course I did. I was dying to get your SAT scores out of you, remember?” She raises an eyebrow, but he shakes his head.
“Still not giving them up. But, yeah. Krimbo has always felt like home base because we spent a lot of time out here when my mom was in treatment. Moving here was just a formality.”
“And she’s doing okay now?” Holly asks with concern.
“She’s doing amazing. She had breast cancer, but she’s had clear scans every year for the past seven.”
“That’s great, Aiden. My nana was diagnosed with cancer two years ago, and she fought so hard.”
“Fought?” Now Aiden’s eyes are the ones clouded with concern.
“She passed away last year.”
“I’m so sorry, Holly.”
“Thank you. We were close; it was hard. That’s her car I brought here. She left it to me because we used to go on a road trip together in it every year. Such good memories in that car. I should have rented something else to drive, I know that—but I always find it so comforting. It still smells like her. Chanel No. 5.” Holly’s smile is wistful now.
“I think I remember your nana from school plays and events. She looked just like you, and always sat right up at the front.”
There’s a lump in Holly’s throat as she nods and says, “Yes. That was her. My favorite person in the world.” She looks down at her empty plate, blinks away tears. “My family aren’t the warmest people. It’s always about acheivements and status. That’s probably why I was so competitive in high school. But Nana was the one who always reminded me I was enough—just me. Not all the things I did.”
“You’re definitely enough, Holly,” Aiden says, his blue eyes bright, his voice suddenly husky with emotion. “You always have been.”
Under his gaze, Holly feels as if time has stopped—or perhaps gone backward. All at once, it’s like she’s spinning, her body flooded with adrenaline that feels like joy. She looks away from him, breaking the intense connection and feeling bereft after she does. “Thank you for listening.” She looks back up at him when she’s sure she has her emotions under control. “Should we help Sidra out by carrying these empty plates back to the kitchen? It’s still pretty slammed in here.”
They both get up from the table and, to what Holly is certain is her relief, the confusing moment between them is over.
Back at the garage, the tires are on Holly’s car and it’s ready for the snowy conditions—and Ellie the mechanic won’t accept payment, forever cementing Krimbo in Holly’s mind as the nicest town in America.
Aiden walks her to her car, parked out in front of the garage, and they stand looking at each other for a moment as the peaceful snow falls between them. All at once, Holly feels an impulse she can’t resist. “Aiden, would you like to come over for dinner and a movie tonight? As a thank-you for the tires and for all your help?”
She can’t read his expression, and hopes she hasn’t made a fool of herself. “You really don’t have to do anything to thank me,” he says.
“But I want to.”
He smiles, and his ice-blue eyes turn warm. Her insides turn warm, too. “Then I’d love to.”
“Seven o’clock give you enough time to work up an appetite again after that lunch?”
“Perfect.”
Holly only brought yoga and sweat pants, T-shirts, sweatshirts, and heavy knits on her trip to the Hudson Valley—but after taking a freezing-cold shower and thawing out her hair, she still finds herself agonizing over what to wear for her evening with Aiden. It doesn’t matter, she finally tells herself. He’s just an old high school friend coming over for ramen noodles, which she plans to doctor up using a recipe she and Ivy developed in college.
