Page 36 of Fa-La-La-La Faking It
Sounds about right.Like grandmother, like granddaughter.
“Of all the women in the world, you had to go and choose the dog lady.” Gus shook his head, but the venom had drained out of his tone. If Jace didn’t know better, he might have mistook his uncle’s unfocused gaze and the softening of his expression for nostalgia.
“Anything you want to share with me, Uncle Gus?” he asked, hoping for a different answer than the usual outright dismissal.
Just this once, tell me something...
Tell me something real.
Gus’s eyes met his in the mirror, and for a second, Jace caught sight of a younger man in his uncle’s eyes—a man who’d drop by for a shave at the barber shop on lazy Saturday afternoons, a man who’d show up for church on Sunday mornings and always toss a few bills into the collection plate, a man who’d stop and pet a dog that passed him on the sidewalk.
A man who loved Christmas.
Then Gus sighed and looked away, and that ghost of a man disappeared again as if he’d never really existed.
“No, son. I don’t,” Uncle Gus said quietly.
So Jace flicked the electric shaver back on and did his best to tamp down the familiar disappointment that tied itself into a knot deep in his belly.
Baby steps, he reminded himself.Baby steps.
Chapter Twelve
Where’s your girlfriend?
Uncle Gus’s question nagged at Jace for the rest of the afternoon. He knew Adaline worked most days at Cherry on Top, and he was pretty certain tonight she’d be at the Comfort Paws cocoa cart, but he wasn’t entirely sure. If she’d been his actual girlfriend, he’d likely have a better idea when he might see her next.
They should have a plan, shouldn’t they? They weren’t going to be a very believable couple if they didn’t. It was going to take more than a single kiss outside the senior center to convince the world at large they were in a relationship. Even if that one kiss had been the best Jace had ever experienced...
But that wasn’t why he found himself at the town square a full hour before the Christmas tree lot was supposed to open. He hadn’t heard a word from Adaline since the kiss, so he was guessing she wanted to pretend it had never happened.
Fine, he could do that. He wouldn’t like it, but he was already neck-deep in pretense. What was one more monumental fib? Meanwhile, they needed to have some sort of strategy, so exactly one minute before closing time, he strode through the front door of Cherry on Top, expecting to find Adaline decked out in one of her cute cherry-themed ensembles in her perfect pink world, making more gingerbread dogs or piping generous swirls of green frosting on cupcakes so they looked like Christmas trees.
One step inside the bakery was all it took to know something was amiss. The cases were full to bursting, despite the late hour, and more baked goods covered every millimeter of counter space. Miles and miles of pies, cakes and lemon bars. There was even a cherry pie topped with an elaborate crisscross crust balanced on top of the cash register. He was almost afraid to breathe, lest he knock it over.
Jace was still standing there, taking it all in, when Adaline came bustling into the lobby from the kitchen area, apron askew and messy bun unwinding to the point that half of her blond waves fell around her shoulders. A dab of chocolate dotted the tip of her nose.
She was a mess—a chaotic, frazzled and thoroughlyadorablemess.
“Jace,” she said in a way that didn’t exactly tell him she was happy to see him. Her gaze darted to the French doors and back at him. “Sorry, I didn’t hear the bell. I’m kind of in the middle of, of...a few things, actually.”
Jace made a show of looking around at the surrounding pie-palooza. “I can see that.”
“Is there something you needed?” she asked, just as Fuzzy rose up on his hind legs and planted his paws on the fence surrounding his gated-off area in the bakery.
Even the poor dog looked like he’d been through the wringer. One of his ears was flopped inside out and the top of his head sported a dollop of cake batter.
What was going on? It was like Betty Crocker had exploded in here.
Jace ignored Adaline’s question as he walked calmly past her to scoop the puppy in his arms. Fuzzy’s tail wagged against the crook of his elbow as he carried the dog to the French doors and turned over the Open sign so it said Closed. Then, for good measure, he clicked the dead bolt and locked them inside.
“Jace, what are you doing?” Adaline said, and he couldn’t help but notice she’d positioned herself behind the counter so they were separated by several feet of smooth Formica.
“It’s time to take a break, sweetheart,” he said, and that flush he loved so much rose to her cheeks, right on cue. “You and your dog both look like you’re about to fall over. Did you get a huge emergency order today or something?”
“Not exactly. I just felt like doing a little extra baking.” She looked around at the fruits of her labor as if trying to work out where everything came from, like she’d been baking in a fugue state. “Sometimes I bake when I’m nervous.”
And just like that, she’d shared something about herself without him having to drag it out of her like he kept trying to do with his uncle, to no avail.
