“That smells so good.” I eyed the aromatic loaf, which he’d sliced evenly, suddenly hungry. “Do you ever do a return-on-investment baking analysis?”
He followed the direction of my gaze. “You mean, do I know how much profit will be made on every loaf of banana nut bread?”
“Yes.” I moved closer as he slid the serving tray into the pastry case.
Nick took a square of serving paper and selected a slice of his banana nut bread. He handed it to me. “Mom always calculatesshrinkageinto the profit margin because she knows sometimes the person working just needs to sample the goods.”
“Thank heavens for Holly’s business sense.” I took the slice from him and bit into the still warm slice of bread.
Butter. Sweetness. Nuts.Heaven.
I stared dreamily at Nick. All that heart and handsomeness and he could cook, too.
If I knew who I was inside and where I was going in life, I’d be thrilled to date him. Not to mention, I’d be well fed while I did.
“I like the way you’re staring at me,” Nick said gruffly, giving me a look in return that seemed filled with a sultry invitation.
Without thinking, I rose up on my toes and planted a brief kiss on his lips. “It’s good to know I’m not a drag on your bottom line.”
I returned to the stool behind the cash register to finish my bread.
Nick remained at the pastry case, gaping at me, the same way he had this morning when I’d hugged him.
I’m not making this easier on him.
I gathered myself and met his shell-shocked gaze squarely. “I’m sorry. When it comes to you, I’m still in the gray zone between friendship and…other options.”
“There’s only one other option than friendship,” he said in a husky voice. “And impulsive kisses…”
“You said it yourself. I’m not normally impulsive.” All stressed-out evidence to the contrary. I picked at my banana nut bread, trying not to feel boxed in because that was how I’d spent my teenage years – loving dance but feeling as if I had no other choice but to dance. And now… And now… I gave myself a little shake. “I know I’m drifting. I know things have to change.”
“You’ll land somewhere…sometime…” The look in his eyes conveyed he’d like me to land in the vicinity of one Nicholas Stocking, master chef and baker.
I’d like that.
But I wasn’t ready. Tears welled in my eyes. I opened my latest Christmas card from Rudolph without seeing the words inside.
Nick came to stand next to me, settling a hand on my shoulder. “Rudolph wrote to you again.” His voice was as sure and steady as his touch. “Christmas dreams can last throughout the year.Wise words.”
I sniffed, wiping at my nose instead of reaching to cover his hand on my shoulder, to hold onto him. I couldn’t because it wasn’t fair to do so until I decided upon a context to that touch. “When you read his words, they sound like a fortune cookie fortune.”
He chuckled, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “As I recall, you like fortune cookie fortunes.”
“Better than fortune cookies.” I nodded. “I like dreams, too. Christmas or otherwise.”
I was just woefully short of dreams of all types at the moment.
ChapterFourteen
“Where did you learn to paint?”Nick had just returned from the hardware store with supplies to fix the wonky built-in shelves. He stood next to me at the wall behind the check-out counter, admiring my painting skill.
“I’ve done my share of community theater.” I set my roller down, happy to admire the soft teal blue I’d painted the back wall. It reminded me of carefree mornings and sunny days ahead. I’d bought the paint using some of my café tip money. “You pick up a thing or two when it’s a shoestring production staffed by volunteers.”
“The same applies when you work in a kitchen. You learn a lot more than you bargained for.”
“Handy, isn’t it?” I beamed at him, feeling less stressed than I had this morning.
I wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but I was enjoying bringing my vision for the store to life. Maybe renovation and design would be my new passion. And if it wasn’t, then at least helping Mom was a way to pay her back for all she’d done for me.