Page 51 of Mad About Yule

I really,reallycan’t wait for Abby to show up for her shift at The Painted Daisy so I can go over to the warehouse. Only because I’m so eager to see Griffin’s latest progress on the Winter Wonderland, and get a few hours of painting in. That’s all. It has nothing to do with our sweet porch kisses that have been playing in my head like that Mariah Carey Christmas song on repeat.

Wow. Now I’m trying to lie to myself.

But the text I got first thing this morning makes it hard to just dive right in and think about the truth.

Mom: I heard you and a certain handyman have been having lunch together around town

Mom: Bring him by the house for dinner some night

Mom: Find out his favorite meal and I’ll plan on it

I texted back a feeble protest that we’re not dating, but Mom’s favorite state is willful ignorance.

When there’s a lull in Blackbird’s Saturday morning pie frenzy, I wander over to their side of the pass-through. Wren wipes down the counters while Tess slices fresh pies for the display case. They both wear purple aprons with an outline of three little birds perched on a pie on the front.

“I have five dollars, and all I want in the world is an apple strudel hand pie.” I wave the bill in the air like an old-timey lady waving her handkerchief at a naval captain.

Wren’s sympathetic look lets me know I’m already too late. “We’re all out of hand pies. We’ve got a couple of cupcakes left though.”

“All I want in the world is a cupcake.”

She sets one on the counter, and I slide her the bill. I peel away the paper, and my mouth waters at the sight of that rich chocolate cake. Their mom has the genius touch with pies, but Tess’s gift is with cupcakes. She’s only been selling them in the shop for a few months, but every flavor I’ve tried makes my eyes roll into the back of my head from deliciousness.

I take a massive bite, doing my best to avoid getting frosting all over my face. Pure bliss.

“Is that caramel buttercream?” I ask before digging in for my next bite.

Tess closes up the freshly-stocked display case. “It’s my latest combination. We’ll see if people like it.”

I moan a little bit while I chew and swallow. “The only way someone could not like it is if they’ve had their taste buds surgically removed.”

Tess beams at that too-faint praise. “I’ll count that as ayesvote.”

Wren eyes me. “Do you need another? You downed that in sixty seconds flat.”

“Might have been less.” I grab a napkin and swipe it across my lips. I worked through lunch and needed the snack. Empty calories still count.

“Are you here to tell us the latest on your handyman situation?” Wren shoots me a finger gun so I can’t miss what info she’s fishing for.

“I heard you’ve got some unexpected help over there.” Tess’s arch look says she heard more than just that.

A spike of fear lodges in my chest, making my smile go tight. I tell it to cool it, but I need a minute. These are my two oldest friends, and I know anything I tell them won’t leave this bakery. But after last summer, even that small hint of gossip among friends feels too close to being ambushed by the Spanish Inquisition.

I blow out a breath and try to play it casual. I really do. But Wren’s slow grin proves my face is no better than fingerprints all over a crime scene. I can’t come up with a good denial with that much evidence against me.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t hate him as much as you used to?” Wren says.

“I didn’t hate him.” Not even in my worst moments, but that’s probably not the part I need to clarify. “We’re just kind of…you know. Spending time together.”

Might as well have signed a written confession.

Wren’s mouth pops open. “You kissed your handyman?”

“You did what?” Tess cuts in.

“I never said that!” Clearly, I don’t have the first clue about playing things casual.

Wren points at me. “Yourfacesaid that. And you didn’t deny it.”

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