The Christmas Cookie Crush (Arcadian Falls Christmas #4)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Nora

As soon as I get home, I tell everyone I’m tired and retreat to my room. I feel a little bad, since I’ve barely seen either of my brothers since they got here. But I need time to myself. Time to reflect on what’s possibly the best first date I’ve ever had. There was none of the usual first-date awkwardness that you expect. No stilted conversation, no awkward silences that someone feels the need to fill with a drawn out, “Sooooo …” while casting about for something to talk about, hoping the other person will jump in while the conversation dies a long, slow, painful death.

Instead, conversation flowed easily. I had fun . So much fun, I didn’t want the evening to end.

And the date was with Austin Stanton, of all people.

Who would’ve ever thought?

If you’d told me even a week ago that I’d be feeling this way after going on a date with him, I’d have laughed and laughed and laughed.

But here we are.

I can’t stop smiling, and I don’t even want to try, which is why it’s best to avoid my family right now. They’d ask why I’m smiling so much, and quoting Elf and saying, “Smiling’s my favorite,” isn’t going to cut it. They’ve all seen me dopey over a boy before. They’ll know what’s up.

And I don’t want them ruining everything, even though I know they’ll only see it as being practical and trying to look out for me.

My family’s great. They really are. And I know they love me and want what’s best for me.

It’s just that what’s best for me right now is basking in the afterglow of a perfect first date, not being reminded of practical considerations. There’ll be time enough for those later.

I wake up the next morning feeling more refreshed and energized than before, and I don’t even care that Simone called out sick on a weekend again . She was only supposed to work half the day, so I’ll cover her half and finish out the day with my half. And I’ll get to see Austin.

We need to exchange numbers, because I want to be able to text him whenever I want. Like after I’ve finished setting up for the day at ChristmasFest. I want to see him, but I can’t leave to go check if he’s at Give and Cake’s kiosk yet. If I were alone, I might, but Trevor’s the other elf working with me today, and he has enough of a hard time following the rules as it is. He doesn’t seem to have a good grasp about which ones are okay to bend a little and when, so I have to set a good example by staying at my post like I’m supposed to.

Fortunately, my day brightens when Austin shows up next to the cordoned area, a pastry bag in hand. “Hey,” he says, looking almost shy.

“Hey yourself,” I answer, sashaying over. “Whatcha got there?”

His shy smile turns into a real one. “I thought you might like a morning pick-me-up.”

“Oh yeah?” I return his smile, and I’m aware I probably look besotted, but I can’t help it.

He hands me the pastry bag. “One of the scones broke in half when I was filling the pastry case.”

“Ohhhh, I get it.” I nod, mock serious. “I’m only worthy of broken baked goods.”

He chuckles softly. “Well, much as I’d love to, I can’t just give away endless pastries to you. But since I can’t sell broken ones …” He shrugs. “I’d normally eat it myself, but I thought you might like it.”

I melt. “So you’re sacrificing your own delicious treat for me?”

Another shrug and a return of his shy smile.

Opening the bag, I pull out half and pass it to him. “How about we split it?”

“Deal,” he says.

Trevor makes gagging noises, and I see Austin glance his way, but I ignore him. Obnoxious turd. “At break, I’m going to come by so you can give me your cell phone number,” I tell him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he says, reaching for the now-empty pastry bag. He holds his piece of scone between his teeth, pulls a pen out of the pocket of his apron, and writes on the paper bag. Passing it back to me, he takes a bite of scone and nods at the bag. “Now you have my number. Text me with yours when you get the chance.”

Beaming, I nod. “I definitely will.”

His eyes dart around, then he leans in close and gives me a quick peck. “Catch you later.”

I carefully fold up the pastry bag and tuck it into my bra because my elf costume doesn’t have pockets. Which is still galling, since Mom’s Mrs. Claus costume has voluminous pockets. And more than one set! She has pockets in her dress and in the apron she wears over it. But I suppose we would have to change the style of elf dresses to something more fit and flare to make pockets work, and when I chose mine, I wanted form fitting. And it’s become something of a signature look.

Maybe I’ll talk to Mom at the end of the season about changing things in the future, though. We all deserve pockets, after all.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Trevor asks.

“Yup!” I respond cheerfully. It might be too soon for that kind of title after one date, but I don’t need to divulge my dating life to my annoying younger coworker.

He snorts, but I don’t engage. “Check the candy canes.”

“I did that already!” he protests. “While you were flirting with your boyfriend.” He draws out the last word, making it singsong, and oh my god, how old is this kid? I thought he was at least sixteen, but he’s acting like he’s maybe twelve.

“Do it again.” That’s one good thing about being the only remaining Daniels child and Lead Elf this year. I can boss Trevor around, and he has to listen to me.

He stomps off to check the candy canes. “The basket’s full!” he calls, sounding petulant.

I mean, I’d probably feel the same way if I were in his shoes. I filled the candy canes last night. And he probably did check the basket already. If I were being forced to redo work that was already done because my supervisor wasn’t paying attention, I’d be annoyed too. But maybe if he weren’t being so obnoxious, I wouldn’t be doing this.

He drags himself back to the computer, his face resembling Sophie’s when she’s in a snit.

“Hey, Trevor,” I say, making my voice light and waiting for him to look at me. “This”—I circle the air in front of his face—“doesn’t work at the North Pole. I’m not sure what your problem is this morning or why you seem to have an issue with me talking to Austin for less than five minutes, but you need to sort it out and get over it before ChristmasFest opens today. It’s the weekend. We’re slammed from start to finish. And I assure you that Santa and Mrs. Claus won’t have a problem with me talking to Austin, but they will have a problem with one of their elves making little kids cry.”

That has the opposite effect, causing his face to scrunch up more, anger flashing in his eyes.

Making my voice as sickly sweet as possible, I continue. “I don’t know if your girlfriend just broke up with you or what, but you don’t get to take out your frustration on me. And you definitely don’t get to take your frustration out on the kids. Now, do I need to call someone in to replace you? Or can you handle the duties and expectations of your role here?”

I wait, giving him as long as he needs to flare his nostrils and take deep breaths, but he eventually manages to smooth out his face. It’s not cheerful, but he doesn’t look on the verge of a tantrum, so I’ll count it as a win. “I don’t need you to find someone to take my shift. I can do it.”

“Good!” I chirp. “We’re all set, so feel free to have a seat on the bench until the doors open.”

Normally I’d sit down too—all day on your feet means taking advantage of any and all sitting opportunities—but I don’t want to share the bench with Trevor right now. Not when he’s just barely managed to fix his face.

Despite the rocky start with Trevor, the day goes smoothly. And when my break hits, I make sure to text Austin so he has my number. When I retrieve my phone at the end of the day, I find a reply from him.

Austin

Dinner again? Or do you have plans already? Either way, I’ll meet you at the North Pole after ChristmasFest and you can let me know

Grinning, I don’t bother responding, instead hurrying into my change of clothes. Nothing fancy today, since I didn’t know I might have a date, but we can do something less fancy than last night. Maybe hit The Filling Station. Though I’ll have to let my parents know my plans this time.

After I finish changing, I park myself next to the North Pole. I don’t have to wait long, though. Austin’s striding over, a big smile on his face.

When he reaches me, I reach for a hug, a moment of panic shooting through me when I realize he might not reciprocate, but he smoothly steps into my arms to give me a hug, dropping a quick kiss on my cheek in the process. God, he’s sweet. And cute and funny and so much nicer than I ever gave him credit for.

“Does this mean I get to take you out tonight?” he asks quietly.

I nod. “Absolutely.”

“Is this who your plans were with last night, Nora?” asks my dad behind me.

Austin’s eyes widen a fraction, and he smoothly steps back, though he keeps his arm around me as I turn to face my dad.

“Yes. Dad, you remember Austin, don’t you? He came to the open house.”

Dad steps forward and holds out his hand for Austin to shake. He’s mostly changed out of his Santa costume, though he’s still wearing the pants and boots to go home in. On top, he’s wearing one of the many Christmas sweaters he’s acquired over the years. He has his coat and belly stashed in the red velvet bag at his feet.

Austin shakes his hand. “Good to see you again, sir.”

Sir? I raise an eyebrow and smirk at Austin.

Dad chuckles, waving him off. “Please. I’ve known you since you were tiny. You used to eat dinner with us at least once a week. You never called me sir then. No need to start now.”

Austin clears his throat, but just nods in response.

“Austin and I are going to grab a bite tonight too,” I put in.

Dad still eyes Austin, like he’s not quite sure what to make of this, humming noncommittally. “Tomorrow we’re having dinner as a family,” he reminds me. “Better talk to your mom if you want to invite an extra.”

“Thanks, Dad. I will,” I say over Austin’s nascent protests. Wrapping my arm through his, I steer him toward the exit. “I’ll talk to her after I get home.”

We’re not quite to the door when Austin voices his protests again. “If you need to go home,” he starts, but stops when I shake my head.

“You heard my dad. Family dinner is tomorrow night. Sure, they’d probably like me to spend time with my brothers and their girlfriends, but I can do that later. The world won’t end if I don’t have dinner with them tonight, especially since the night before a big family dinner, it’s mostly rustle up whatever you want to eat. Sandwiches, leftovers, a bowl of cereal …” I shrug, letting him fill in the rest.

Stopping by the door, I turn him to face me. “You don’t have to come tomorrow.”

He examines my face closely, his expression giving nothing away. “Do you want me to?”

I inhale deeply, considering. “Yes,” I say at last. “I think it’d be fun. Plus, I want to be able to see you, even if it is in the context of my entire family getting together.” I hold up a finger. “Fair warning, though, my brothers will give you endless amounts of shit. So if you come, be prepared for that.”

He captures my finger, bringing it to his lips and kissing the tip, making me melt once again. “I can handle your brothers,” he assures me quietly.

“So I should tell my mom to add one more?”

He returns my grin. “Yes.”