The Christmas Cookie Crush (Arcadian Falls Christmas #4)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Austin

I hold my breath. Nora looks at me, looks at the box I’m offering, then looks at me again like she’s not sure what to do.

Suddenly it hits me that she probably thinks I stuffed the box full of Warheads or licorice or both. Or somehow made some kind of cake or something with both candies worked in.

“Shit,” I mutter, and she lets out a snort. “No,” I protest. “Hang on.” I fumble with the lid, but Sheila sealed it shut with one of the stickers with the Give and Cake logo on it, and it won’t fucking open.

Then the box starts to tip, but Nora’s reflexes are fantastic. Her hands go under the box, catching and balancing it, her fingers overlaying mine, and that same electric pulse I felt when our fingers brushed the other day shoots through me again.

Jesus. I can’t?—

She clears her throat, and my eyes jump to hers. They’re wide, a little startled, and I’m not sure if it’s about almost dropping the box or how close together we’re standing or if she felt that jolt of electricity too. Then my gaze lands on her plump, parted lips.

But I can’t focus there. Shit.

Clearing my throat, I nod at the box. “Sorry. I forgot Sheila sealed the box with a sticker. They’re cookies. Elf cookies.” I feel like a stammering idiot. “Like the kind you said Grampy made.”

Her eyes widen. “He made me cookies? Even after his surgery?” The wonder in her voice fills me with pride. And hope.

I shake my head. “No. He’s not allowed in the kitchen long enough to decorate cookies, though he’s been complaining about that for at least the last week, saying he should be able to help do something. But no. I made these. Well, I made the cookies, anyway. And I decorated some of them. Sheila helped too, since she’s better at it.”

Her brows pinch together, and I’m worried she’s going to start glaring at me like she normally does. “Wait.” She carefully peels the sticker off the box and opens the lid, staring into the box for long enough that I’m worried something happened on the way here and they’re all mangled. But when I peek around the edge of the lid, I see they’re all exactly as they should be. “You made me cookies?” The question is more breath than sound. She searches my face, her brows still wrinkled in confusion. “But why?” Then her eyes narrow like I’ve been expecting. “What did you do to them?”

Closing my eyes, I shake my head and chuckle. “Nothing. I swear.” Meeting her eyes again, I try to infuse every ounce of sincerity I can muster into my voice. “You seemed so sad about not getting the cookies this year. I just …” I shrug. “I wanted to brighten your season. And try again at the peace offering. I thought …” Another shrug. “I thought you’d like them.”

She points into the box. “You didn’t lace them with too much lemon or something?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “No. I swear. You can call Sheila if you don’t believe me.”

Eyes still narrowed, she picks up a cookie, breaks off a piece, and holds it out to me. “Or you can eat a bite and prove to me that it’s safe.”

I hold her stare for a moment, wondering what she sees in my face. Sincerity? Amusement? Some mix of both? Because that’s what I’m feeling right now.

I tip my head forward, parting my lips. She holds the cookie to my mouth, and somehow what seemed mostly playful and silly—with a hint of suspicion on her part, of course—just a second ago somehow turns heated and intimate. I’m painfully aware of the people surrounding us, some of whom are watching this with rapt attention. Her siblings, I think, but a couple other people I don’t recognize too.

The sugar cookie is perfect—buttery, sweet, the texture just right. Everything Grampy’s sugar cookie recipe is known for.

As I chew and swallow, I make a big show of enjoying the bite, though I don’t have to try too hard. Give and Cake’s cookies are delicious. “It’s perfect,” I tell Nora after I swallow.

Her eyes still narrowed, though there’s a glimmer of amusement there now. “You’re not just faking it to get me to try one?”

I shrug. “No. But if you don’t trust me, you could ask someone else to have a bit too. Like your friend there.” I nod to the woman standing next to her wearing a Christmas sweater bearing cartoon reindeer faces, each one with a sparkly red pompom for a nose. Not one of her siblings, because who knows if she’d trust them not to prank her too.

“Oh, yes, please,” says the woman, stepping forward. “I remember these cookies from last year. They’re so good. I’ll take a whole one, not just a bite.”

“Lydia, no!” Nora protests. “I know they look like the ones we had last year, but these are from him . Austin. He’s not trustworthy.”

“Austin!” cries Dylan. “I didn’t realize you were here! I haven’t seen you in ages! What’s going on? What’s with the cookies?” Stepping forward, he wraps an arm around the woman Nora called Lydia.

“He made cookies for Nora,” Lydia tells him. “Because his grandpa isn’t running the shop this year for some reason.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dylan says. “Mom told me about that. How’s that going, man? Did Nora special order the cookies that look like her?” He rolls his eyes. “She’d always go gah-gah over those. Kinda silly if you ask me.”

“No one asked you,” Nora spits, finally taking the box from my hands. Then she looks at me. “Thank you, Austin. It was very kind of you to bring these tonight.”

“Why does Nora think they’ll taste bad?” Lydia loud-whispers to Dylan. “She made him eat one to prove they’re good, but she still doesn’t believe him, I don’t think.”

Dylan starts laughing, and Nora’s cheeks turn pink.

Shit. I wasn’t trying to embarrass her. Why does everything I try go spectacularly wrong? First the cranberry scone I tried to give her. Then the joke with the Warheads. Then trying to make these damn cookies, and now this?

Gritting my teeth, I force a chuckle. “Oh, it’s an old joke between the two of us.”

Nora’s giving me her narrow-eyed glare again. “Ha. Yeah. It’s a joke.” She closes the lid of the box and steps away, slipping through the crowd. I want to follow her, but I can’t, not without being rude to Dylan and Lydia.

“It’s so good to see you, man!” Dylan says again, bumping my arm with the hand holding his drink, his other hand still resting on Lydia’s back. “This is my girlfriend, Lydia. We actually met here last year during ChristmasFest. She was working as an elf at the North Pole during my last season there.”

“Oh, yeah?” I do my best to sound interested. Normally I would be, but I’m still half scanning the room to try to catch a glimpse of Nora. What’d she do with the cookies? Is she going to try one? Or is she going to toss them preemptively without giving them a chance?

God, if I find out she threw them away without even having one, I’ll …

Well, I’ll be really mad, for one. And disappointed. I worked fucking hard on those cookies. If she doesn’t want them, I want them back so I can eat them.

But I also want to catch up with Dylan. It’s been years since I’ve seen him. I think the last time was the summer after freshman year of college? I came with my parents to visit my grandparents, and he was home for the summer.

“How long are you in town for?” I ask, pulling my phone from my pocket. “We should make time to grab a coffee or something. I’m slammed until Christmas, of course, since I’m working the kiosk for Give and Cake, but things should slow down after that.”

He rattles off his number for me, and I shoot him a text, though I see his number hasn’t changed since high school. I guess we could’ve kept in touch all this time and just … didn’t.

How many friends have I lost touch with over the years through sheer laziness? No one reaches out, eventually it feels like too much time has passed, and we just stop talking?

I should resurrect this friendship, at least. And then I can figure out which others might be worth trying to salvage too. College friends I haven’t talked to in several months. I could send a text. Schedule a visit. Something.

First I need to get through Christmas, and then I can see about what to do with myself after that. The thought of staying in Arcadian Falls and taking over Give and Cake still niggles in the back of my mind. I haven’t broached the subject with my grandparents, mostly because Grampy’s still so mad about not working right now as it is. And while I’m confident he’ll get back to it eventually, especially if he listens to his physical therapist and doctors and doesn’t overdo it, I have my doubts he’ll ever be able to go back to his previous schedule. And I honestly don’t think he should, even if he wants to.

But he could train me. Sheila could too. One thing’s for sure, I definitely need a lot of help if I’m going to take over. I won’t be ready anytime soon. Not with the baking and decorating, anyway. And while the margins are good enough at this time of year for the extra help we’ve hired, I’ve gone over the books, and I know this isn’t sustainable year round. If I want to keep the shop in the black, I need to take over some of Grampy’s duties beyond running the kiosk during ChristmasFest.

It’s not so far from here to Portland. And Eugene, where I went to college, is only a couple hours south of Portland. Several of my friends still live there. A couple friends are even in the Seattle area now, like Dylan. Arcadian Falls is a good middle ground between all of them. Maybe I could organize something over the summer. Get all my friends together like we used to do on summer breaks in college …

Dylan tells me how he’s doing in Seattle, all about his new job, and shares some funny stories about his coworkers. It makes me feel a little awkward since I’m living with my grandparents and working at their shop. I didn’t manage to find a job I care about straight out of college, which is what allowed me to just up and quit like I did to come back here.

“Hey, once your grandparents are back on their feet and you’re ready to move on, come out to Seattle. You could stay with me if you’re out for interviews or if you need a place to crash while you find your own apartment.”

I glance at Lydia, who’s smiling and nodding. “You’d have to clear it with your roommate, of course,” she reminds him.

That has my eyebrows raising. “Oh, are you two not …?”

She giggles and shakes her head, leaning into Dylan’s side. “Not because he doesn’t want us to,” she says. “But I’m still finishing my degree, and it’s easier to live in the dorms. His apartment’s too far away from campus. Plus”—she shrugs—“it’s good for me to live on my own for a bit.”

The look he gives her is pure love. “And I’m happy to wait until you’re ready,” he murmurs, and I feel like I’m intruding on an intimate moment.

Clearing my throat, I take a half step back and hook my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m gonna go check out the food table. And grab a drink.”

“Oh, for sure!” Dylan says. “Sorry, man. I didn’t realize you hadn’t made it that far yet. Be sure to grab one of Mom’s peppermint twist cookies. I know you’re bakery royalty and all, but those cookies are the best, and she only makes them for this one party.”

Chuckling, I wave. “I’ll be sure to try one.”

And maybe I will. Assuming there are any left when I get to the table. But first, I want to find Nora and see what she did with my box of cookies.