Page 10 of Cross Check Christmas
"And as soon as I figure out how to look at his face without wanting to…”
“Hey, hey hey!” Daisy screams, slamming a box of Legos on the table. “Oh no you don’t, mister.”
“What? What happened?”
Daisy's voice turns to steel. "That little... coffee-pushing... pastry thief!"
Following her gaze, I spot Tucker practically dancing as he crosses the street, a familiar pink pastry bag clutched in his hands. The same pink bags I helped Daisy design last summer.
"That sneaky little..." Daisy's fists clench. "I specifically told Jenny and Madison not to serve him. Ever. Under any circumstances."
"Maybe he just?—"
"That man is banned. Banned! What part of 'If Tucker shows his perfectly styled hair in my shop, call security' did they not understand?"
I bite back a smile. For someone who claims to despise Tucker, she certainly keeps tabs on his every move.
"Daisy, I'm sure it's not?—"
"He's been in there three times this week! Three! And now I'll bet he's got my signature cranberry scones. I can tell by the way he's grinning." She yanks off her light-up Santa hat and thrusts it at me. "Hold this. I need to have a word with Mr. Coffee Bean about respecting boundaries."
"Daisy, wait?—"
But she's already storming across the square, her red hair a warning beacon of impending disaster.
"Tucker Matthews, you get your pretentious coffee-grinding behind back here!" Daisy's voice carries from down the street. "You better not have bought the last maple pecan Danish!"
I'm left standing alone at the toy donation table, clutching her twinkling hat and wondering how someone who bakes such delicate pastries can stomp with such fury. Through the crowd, I catch glimpses of her closing in on Tucker, stopping him before he reaches his shop.
"Three times!" Daisy yanks Tucker’s arm, reaching for the pink pastry bag. "In my bakery!"
Several heads turn, including, unfortunately, Hendrix's.
Great. Just great. Now I'm alone, holding a light-up Santa hat that's currently playing "Jingle Bells" in tiny electronic beeps, while the man I'm trying desperately to avoid is looking in my direction. Quick, look busy. I snatch up a stuffed penguin and pretend to be absolutely fascinated by its tag.
But too late. Hendrix strides right up beside me to watch the showdown taking place in the middle of Main Street.
“What’s the story with those two?” he says with an amused grin.
I give him the side-eye. "Why are you here?"
"To visit my Grannie for the holidays."
"No. What are you doing HERE? Today. In Town Square."
"Oh. I'm working the face painting booth."
Well that explains why I've seen at least five kids with "Go Titans" painted across their foreheads.
"Of course you are. You do know not everyone is a Titans fan, right?" I say.
"Who doesn't love the Titans?" Hendrix grins, leaning against my donation table. "Besides you, Shakespeare?"
My hand tightens around the stuffed penguin. That old nickname makes my stomach flip—not in a good way. "Don't call me that."
In the street, Daisy and Tucker's pastry battle has evolved into a dance of dodges and feints. "Those are MY scones!" Daisy lunges.
"I paid for them fair and square!" Tucker spins away, protecting the pink bag like it contains crown jewels.
