Page 14 of Home for the Holidays

“That’s”—she paused—“not the reason.”

Iris tore her eyes from the view and looked at Heidi. “No?”

Heidi shook her head, her eye contact never wavering. “Nevertheless,” she sighed, shrugged, “it’s what happened. What about you? Where are you in from?”

Iris pulled a breath in and held it. The intensity of Heidi’s eye contact was making it a little hard to focus. “Uh, yeah, um, New York City.” She picked her cappuccino up and sipped. The warm, delicate chocolate notes of the espresso surrounded her tastebuds. And the oat milk was perfectly frothed, both in stiffness and temperature. Before she spoke, she wiped her lip with a napkin because she was more than positive she had a mustache from the froth. “Okay, this isincredible.”

“Thank you.” A slight pink filled Heidi’s cheeks, and it, of course, made her even more beautiful. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it. Thank you for making it with such care.” She locked her gaze onto Heidi’s but had to look away when her stomach unexpectedly bottomed out.

“As the owner of this establishment, I’d never skimp.” She lifted her chin, a smug smirk on display. “Especially for you, city girl.”

Iris couldn’t stop the giggle that poured from her. Shegiggled. She honest to god giggled.What the fuck?“Oh, please. I haven’t always been a city girl. I’m from a small town in Colorado originally.”

Heidi seemed genuinely interested. “That’s unexpected, for sure. I’m glad to hear Vale Park’s small-town feel won’t scare you away.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m not slightly scared.” Iris heard herself. She was flirting with this middle-aged Midwestern woman in the middle of her bakery. And it felt really fucking good. “In a good way, of course.” Sleep deprivation made her ballsy, obviously. That was the only reasonable explanation she had for flirting with this woman who was most definitely married and had kids. She, minutes earlier, had literally just confirmed it all. And, sadly, aside from fantastic arched eyebrows, nothing exhilarated Iris more than a blonde, straight, married, unobtainable woman. They were her kryptonite, regrettably. “So, anyway…”Ahh, yes, there you go, be awkward. That’s much easier to handle.“You own this place, hmm?” She motioned with her free hand to try and stop herself from sounding like an idiot.

“I do. Have for twelve years now.”

“Please tell me that you had an Easy Bake Oven as a kid and that’s the reason for the name.”

Heidi’s smile lit up her entire face. “I one hundred percent did. Cooking with a lightbulb. Who knew it could taste so good?”

“Sadly, I never had one.”

“No way!”

The memory of begging for one for Christmas and not getting it flooded Iris’s mind. “My cousins had one, and I was always so jealous. I’d make them bake me a chocolate cake whenever I came over.” She chuckled. “I was a very demanding five-year-old.”

“I’m sure you were adorable.”

Iris snapped her eyes back to Heidi’s. Was she flirting back? “Yeah, I was pretty cute.”

“I had a feeling.” She stood upright and moved her hair behind her shoulders. “How long were you in Colorado?”

“Until I was eighteen. I left and went to NYU.” Iris leaned forward. “Not to steer the conversation back to you, but I’m fascinated with your years in Paris.”

“That’s not a cup of cappuccino conversation. That’s an entire bottle of wine conversation.”

She checked her watch. “Is it too early for wine?”

Heidi raised her eyebrows. “Not in my book, but others may frown upon it.” She licked her lips again. “Um, this might seem forward, but,” she started, but her voice faltered as she began to fidget with her hands. She was staring down at them now as if she was reconsidering whatever she was going to say. Iris noticed then that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.Interesting.“Maybe if you have a free evening, we could have dinner or something?” Her voice trailed off at the end of her question. Her shyness, which came out of nowhere, was one of the most charming things Iris had ever witnessed.

“I would love that. But…”

“Family obligations?” Heidi’s tone suggested she understood all too well.

“Unfortunately, yes. Would it help if I said I’m sad about that?”

“A little, yeah.” Heidi’s disappointed look was like a punch to Iris’s gut. “Okay then,” she said, so very softly. “Did you want to order anything else?”

Iris forced herself to snap out of whatever fever dream she’d landed in and direct her laser-focused attention to the menu. She was too deep in berating herself for being such an idiot to handle more eye contact with this woman. “Yes, can I get a dozen of your most popular pastries?”

Heidi responded with a simple nod before she headed over toward the glass pastry cases. Iris stared down at her cappuccino, willing herself to study something other than Heidi. She was acting like a fool, as if she’d never seen a pretty older woman before. What, was it, like, a shock or something to see someone in Middle America who was sobeautiful? Come on. She was clearly still nervous about the next few days and the multiple lies she was going to have to convincingly tell. That had to be it.

CHAPTERSIX

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