Page 46 of Mistletoe Latte

Sam sighed, took a long drink of his coffee, and said, “That boy needs to get laid.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

IT’D BE EASIER if she’d died.

He knew he shouldn’t think that. Some of the old ladies who drank coffee for hours after church would tan his hide for it. But Nick couldn’t escape the fact that if she’d left in a pine box maybe he wouldn’t keep trying to rewrite that last Christmas.

A knock startled him, and he jerked up from his desk. Absently, he wiped at his cheeks as he looked to the only person daring enough to find him after that. Emma had no idea what she’d walked into. It was no wonder she wanted to walk back out.

“There was a weather announcement over Sam’s…the scanner. Sounds like a blizzard’s starting up.”

Nick waved it away. “They always say that every December up here.”

“You’re not worried?”

“It’s why I’ve got snow tires.”

“Oh…”

God, she reminded him of Snow White. Not just because she had skin as white as…okay, not snow. That’d make her a zombie. And her hair was more of a dark brown than as black as whatever Snow White had. But her heart was so gentle and kind it’d cause a dozen woodcutters to fall to their knees and beg for forgiveness.

It’d certainly be a beautiful view.

Nick stood up fast, smacking his knee into the desk. That was gonna hurt come tomorrow. The kindhearted princess gasped at his folly and almost ran to tend to it, but he couldn’t hide his reaction to her on her knees. Turning away, Nick rolled his knuckles along the dusty desktop, then pounded them once.

“What’d Sam tell you?”

“There was a terrible storm in the sixties that knocked out all power to the town for two weeks. And something about a donkey in the church’s bell tower.”

He laughed at the same old wives tale he’d heard as a kid. “Can I ask you something? Why’d you work in a restaurant if you just wanted to make desserts? Why not start your own bakery?”

Emma tugged her ponytail forward and twisted the end. “That needs money, which I didn’t have after school.”

“Work for one, then?”

She pursed her cherry lips and stared upward. The solitary flash of discomfort in her doe eyes made Nick want to stop this conversation, but Emma sighed. “I guess I…maybe I should have. I should. The truth is, I wanted to be the one to decide what was made. Not to create the same thing day in and day out to fit a set menu. To let my imagination run wild and craft new desserts out of old favorites and make something never seen before.”

Emma swayed as she confessed to him. “I thought if I made it up the ladder, I’d be the head dessert chef. But I couldn’t even hack the vegetables.”

“I didn’t want this place.” Nick flicked the stack of forms, watching them fly up like bureaucratic snow. “Not at first, anyway. Dealing with people is not my forte.”

She started to snicker before holding a hand over her lips. Nick wanted to pull her palm down so she could laugh at the truth, but he stayed put.

“Things in the plant weren’t going well, downsizing, and my back was only getting worse. So we…so she thought the answer was our own little coffee shop.”

Rachel had been damn near skipping with excitement when she found the old place. They’d been working tirelessly to change it over from a failed craft brew to their quaint and quirky coffee shop. All the while, he’d get up at four a.m. and perfect his newest blends.

“I was like you. I loved playing with flavors, there were so many syrups out there to mix and match. Beans from across the world. I thought I’d never get bored of it. Now there’s just four things on the menu.”

“What happened?”

He snickered at his folly. “She didn’t want kids. I was fine with that. Chasing after a toddler and changing diapers wasn’t up my alley. It was all going great, perfect. Then…the shit hit the fan.”

They’d been running around like mad decorating the cafe for Christmas when he’d gotten the call. “My brother Pete was…in a bad spot. I had no money to throw at him. And he couldn’t stay here, not after what he…what happened. That left Skylar in the lurch.”

Emma pulled in a breath. “What about her mom?”

“She was gonna stick by Pete, but he fucked that up too. After a year or so, she ran off to Florida. Skylar heads down there for every other holiday.” When her mother cared enough to send a plane ticket anyway.

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