Page 41 of Sweet Christmas Wish
Will knew that wasn’t true, but he let it slide and leaned against the counter. “So,” he said, changing the subject to something he’d been thinking about all day. “Are we going to talk about that kiss earlier?”
Sarah’s expression smoothed and she laughed. “Do youwantto?”
“Yes,” he said, turning serious. “I actually do.”
Sarah looked away. “Will…”
“What?”
“I mean… I know you came to see Michelle, but… I have feelings for you.”
Will could’ve shouted it from the rooftops, but he kept his reaction inside. “I have feelings for you too,” he said simply.
She blinked. “Really?”
“Wasn’t that kiss proof?”
Sarah grinned. “Maybe. Maybe I need more proof.”
Will laughed aloud at that. “Okay, let me take you out on Friday night. Dinner? At a nice place?”
She nodded slowly. “At a nice place, you say?” she teased, pretending to think about it. Then she gave him a real, dazzling smile. “Yeah, I think I can make that work.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
Sarah had felt that telltale tickle in her throat when she woke up on Friday morning, the day scheduled for her date with Will, and it was all she could do not to curl up in bed and cry. That tickle was always the start of colds in her experience, and her premonition had been proven correct by the time she’d finished getting ready to open the bakery that morning.
She was sniffling, her ears ached, and her throat was sore.
Before she left her apartment, she’d chugged down a double dose of daytime cough medication, hoping to mask her symptoms and see her through the workday. Sure, the medicine was pretty potent, so she was generally careful about taking too much of it, but she considered this an emergency.
There was no way on earth she was going to miss out on a chance to have dinner with Will Parks. No way.
She’d thought she was doing a good job of pretending all was well—at least Will hadn’t seemed to comment on anything throughout the work day—but when Tiffany had shown up for her afternoon shift at four p.m., she had taken one look at Sarah and dragged her into the kitchen to talk.
“What’s going on?” she asked, shrugging off her coat. “You look like death. No offense.”
Sarah rubbed at her bleary eyes. “I’m not sure hownotto take offense at that,” she mumbled. Just talking hurt her throat—the medicine had started wearing off a couple of hours before. “Seriously, what kind of greeting is that?”
“See? This is what I’m talking about—usually you’d laugh or something.”
Sarah sighed, massaging the back of her neck. “Okay, okay, you got me. I think I’m coming down with something, and I feel like trash.”
“I knew it,” Tiffany exulted, then immediately caught herself. “Sorry. I like being right a little too much. Do you think you have the flu?” She took a tiny step backward, but Sarah noticed.
“No, I’m not running a temperature and I don’t feel nauseous or achy. It’s just a cold. Don’t worry—I’ll keep my distance and I’ve been wiping down the counter and the register with disinfectant all day and putting on loads of hand sanitizer.”
“Thanks for that.” Tiffany frowned, her brow wrinkling with concern. “I reallyamsorry you’re not feeling well. That’s no fun.”
“Tell me about it. And the timing couldn’t be worse.”
“Ooohhh, spill. Do you have big plans tonight?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Sarah teased. “I’ll never tell.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t just bait me like that and then clam up like that!”
“Okay, okay, fine.” Sarah leaned forward conspiratorially, suddenly dying to share her news. She hadn’t told Lacy, because she knew Lacy would blow up at her for not calling Michelle about going out with her ex-boyfriend. Or she would blow up about Sarah not telling Will that Michelle was married. Or both. But Tiffany? Tiffany would just be excited for her, and she missed having someone to confide in. “Well, as it happens, tonight I’m going out to dinner with Will.”
