Sprinkle All The Way (Evergreen Lake: Under the Mistletoe)

Chapter 16

sixteen

VIOLET

The smell of coffee wakes me up the next morning, instead of the smell of Noah curled next to me. Part of me wanted to wake up tangled in each other and hear him tell me how he needed me. We’d get lost in each other and he would slip into me with whispers of how right we felt together. We’d give into our long building urges and explore each other. Memories of last night on the couch flooded my dreams, but Noah seems unaffected. Instead he stayed on his side of the bed and woke up before me. Yet ever since Jacob pointed out how Noah looks at me I haven’t been able to unsee it.

Every moment with him had started to turn into this bomb I’m tiptoeing around, afraid to set it off because of how he didn’t want to continue anything with me—not even our friendship—eight years ago. But last night, sitting next to him and watching a movie felt too good. It was too familiar, too easy, and I didn’t care anymore that he left me without a word. I wanted to live in the moment. Then, when he admitted he thought of me, I wanted to cheer and tell him there wasn’t a week that went by without me thinking of him too.

When he kissed me there was no way I was leaving the couch without making him fall apart for me. I’d waited too long to see it. But now I’m trying to stop thinking about his moans and gasps to cool my libido down before getting up.

Looking around his room I can’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to fall into a life here with Noah. He’s barely moved in and I could help him get truly settled. I could help him run the shop and be close to my family again, and find a place where I belonged. Maybe staying could be my Christmas present for my mom. She’d never ask that of me, but I know she’d love for me to live closer. It would be a better gift than the scarf I bought her.

I get dressed in my clothes from yesterday and head out to the kitchen, where Noah is pouring two cups of coffee. His shirt is tight around his chest and arms, paired with a different pair of dark gray sweatpants from last night and messy hair that I want to make messier. I could get used to the sight of this.

“Morning, Vi,” he says in a hoarse voice, handing me a cup.

I thank him, bringing the coffee to my lips and letting the liquid warm me up.

“Do you want breakfast?” he asks me.

“No, I’m going to swing home and change then I’ll come back. You wanted to focus on Ginger’s office today, right?” I ask him, trying to remember the schedule he laid out but all I can think of is how I can get him to touch me again.

“If you don’t mind. I have an appointment at nine, so how about ten? I really am a lost cause when it comes to running a business.” He sighs, and I realize he’s probably embarrassed by his lack of knowledge. He hates not being good at things, but lucky for him this is what my business degree was built for.

“Sounds like a plan.” I finish my coffee and head out, stopping myself from going over to him and kissing him goodbye like I want to. If I got close to him right now I’d end up dragging him into the bedroom and I don’t know if we’re there yet. I want to ask him what last night meant to him, but I can’t take a rejection right now.

My parents are already at work when I get home, so I take my time to shower and change. I’m about to leave with a bagel and a travel cup of coffee when my phone dings.

Mom

FYI I had Dad put your boxes from high school in your car. I figured you could take them to Noah’s and use his dumpster to get rid of things you don’t want. Have a good day! Xoxo Mom

I laugh and roll my eyes at her signature texting end. I’ve told her on several occasions she doesn’t need to sign off on every text, but it doesn’t stop her.

Violet

Thanks Mom. I’ll be home later tonight, don’t wait for me. Love you!

Mom

Love you too! Xoxo Mom

Turning around, I grab my keys and wallet since it sounds like I’ll be driving to the shop instead of walking. I assumed there wouldn’t be too much to go through, but when I climb into the front seat and I can’t see out the rear or the passenger seat window I realize Mom might have had a good idea about taking all this to Noah’s. It’s not like I need any of this stuff anyway.

Parking outside of Gingerbreads, the key Noah gave me lets me enter through the front and bring the boxes in. It seems all too familiar, like this is something I could do everyday, and it’s starting to scare me how easy it is .

I can hear him grumbling in the office as I move my way through the kitchen.

“Are you doing okay?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe of the small office.

“I’d be better if Ginger organized anything in here,” he groans, gesturing to the mess of papers surrounding him on the floor. When he finally looks at me, I’m grateful I’m leaning against something because I might have fallen over from seeing him.

“You got glasses?” I ask, pointing to my face. Hoping that sounded cool, because inside I’m screaming. Iris really did me a favor, and I’m going to have to thank her later. The wide round pair frames his face perfectly, and the tortoise pattern balances his green eyes and dark hair. He looks delicious and I want to push him to the ground and have my way with him. But that’s not what I’m here for.

“Iris said I needed them, and I shouldn’t drive without them,” he tells me. “She had this leftover pair from someone who never picked them up with the same prescription. What do you think?” he asks, moving his head around to show me every angle.

“They look good. They suit you well,” I say, trying to force the heat creeping into my cheeks to stop.

“This might take us longer than I anticipated.” He redirects the conversation to the papers on the floor. “I want to have everything organized so when someone inevitably calls the IRS on me, I know where to find stuff.”

“No one is going to call the IRS on you. Plus I love to organize,” I tell him, squatting to meet his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, you’ve got me now.”

His eyes twinkle and before he can reply a knock from the front door echoes through the shop .

“Are you expecting someone?” I ask him as he stares toward the front, eyes wide.

“No,” he answers. Followed by a whispered, “Go answer it.”

“No,” I say. “It’s your shop, you go answer it.”

He groans, standing up off the floor and heading out of the office. “So much for ‘you’ve got me now,’ ” he mumbles as he passes me.

I follow behind him, stepping behind the front door so whoever it is can’t see me. He rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath before unlocking the door.

“Hi, Noah. I’m Bernice.” Her high voice fills the small front end of the shop, and I see him wince.

“Hi Bernice, we’ve met. A few times actually.” He reaches out and shakes her outstretched hand.

“Right, well, can never be too careful. Anyway, I wanted to come by and apologize for rejecting your festival stand submission,” Bernice says, and my heartbeat picks up.

If she says anything rude to him, I’m fully prepared to kick her ass.

When he doesn’t reply she continues, “I thought it over and a Gingerbreads stand would be the perfect addition to the festival,” she pauses. “To honor Ginger of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees. “Thank you, Bernice. I really appreciate the reconsideration.”

“Well you know me, always sticking up for the little guy,” Bernice chimes and I have to cover my mouth before a laugh escapes. “You’ll be stand one thirteen and you can start on Friday.”

He takes a piece of paper from her, a map of the festival with one thirteen circled.

“One other thing,” Bernice starts as he stares at the map in shock. “The Emerson girl is working with you, correct?”

“She is,” he answers, quickly glancing in my direction .

“She mentioned you might be interested in supplying the sugar cookies for the sugar cookie decorating contest,” Bernice continues.

“Oh did she?” He reaches behind the door and tries to swat at me, but I jump before he can reach me.

“Yes, would that be true?” Bernice asks.

“I’d love to do that, if you don’t mind,” he tells her.

“Perfect. We usually do two hundred. Thank you for donating those. I will see you on Friday,” she tells him, and he flinches when she says ‘donating.’

“See you then, thank you again,” he replies, shutting the door and locking it again. He slowly spins toward me and I can’t read his face. “You’re dead, Vi,” he says through a laugh, pointing at me with the map in his hand.

When he steps toward me I make a beeline for the kitchen, and he isn’t far behind me.

“What did you do?” He tries to sound stern but I can hear the laughter in his voice.

I run around the table in the center and stop when he’s across from me. I’m already panting, I don’t think I’ve run this fast in a while. “Don’t kill me,” I beg. “I talked to her at the festival before you got there.”

“So dead,” he says, shaking his head and running around to the side of the table.

“Noah, no!” I yell, trying to run around to the other side, but he’s too fast. My view turns upside down as he spins me around and over his shoulder. “Put me down!” I yell, hitting him in the ass.

“I’m going to throw you in the snow,” he tells me as he carries me through the kitchen and outside the back door.

“Don’t you dare, I was helping you,” I protest, as the December air causes goosebumps to break out all over my skin .

“Yeah, well, I’ve already committed to this,” he says, lightly dropping me into a snow pile.

Luckily, the snow is fluffy, but I scream when the cold goes up my shirt. He looks guilty and stretches his hand out to help me up. Instead of standing, I yank and pull him toward me. He clearly isn’t ready for it, and easily collapses into the snow next to me.

“You’re welcome, you asshole,” I say through a laugh.

“For what?” he groans, wiping snow off his face. “For going behind my back? For pulling me to the ground? For risking my new glasses?”

“Listen, I was helping you. She likes me, and she wasn’t supposed to mention me,” I tell him, sitting up on my elbows.

He falls deeper into the snow. “That doesn’t make it any better. But thank you,” he says to the sky.

“Of course. You deserve to be there, and we’ll show them why,” I say confidently, standing and reaching my hand out to him.

He takes it, and doesn’t pull me down with him. “Guess we need to go to the basement and find Ginger’s festival stuff,” he says, brushing the snow off his clothes and heading into the shop.

“And maybe we could find the window decorations, too,” I suggest, which receives a grunt from him.

Suddenly, he stops in the doorway, causing me to bump into him. “Wait, also why would you suggest donating cookies? That’s so many to give away for free.” He turns toward me, crossing his arms.

I roll my eyes, stepping around him and into the warmth of the shop. “We’ll be fine, it’ll be great points with the town. Trust me, two steps forward…” I start.

“One step back,” he groans, but with a smile on his face.