Every pair of eyes in the bakery—human and canine alike—remained firmly fixed on Jace as he got the blue spruce set up in a corner by the front window.
He turned the tree this way and that, more out of habit than anything else. There wasn’t a bad angle to be found. Not a single crushed limb or bent twig. It was the best tree on his lot and for some ludicrous reason, he’d wanted Adaline to have it. Once he was done here, he needed to get his head examined.
Oh, but wait. Jace didn’t have time to get his head examined. Between single-handedly running the town Christmas tree lot and checking on Uncle Gus, he still hadn’t had time to fully unpack his belongings and get settled in Gus’s old house on the outskirts of town. Yesterday he’d bought a new toothbrush at Bluebonnet General—the small grocery store in the town square with a seemingly nonexistent organizational system—just so he wouldn’t have to figure out which moving box contained his personal grooming items.
He’d wanted her to have the tree, so he’d given it to her. Case closed. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. If he had to look at the storefront bakery all day, every day, it may as well have a decent-looking Christmas tree in the window.
“Wow.” Jenna, one of Adaline’s friends who wore a pink wraparound sweater and had her hair twisted into an elaborate blond bun, circled the tree in its stand. “It’s stunning.”
“Gorgeous. I’m definitely getting one of these tomorrow for the pet clinic before Grover drags out some pathetic plastic tree he’s had tucked away in an attic for half a century,” Maple said. Her hand rested on Lady Bird’s head as her gaze swept the tree from top to bottom. Once the golden retriever had given Jace a thorough tail-wagging welcome, she’d glued herself to the veterinarian’s side.
“I wonder if I could convince the school to let me put a live tree in the library. It smells like Christmas,” Belle said as she absently twirled her chestnut ponytail with one hand as she cradled Peaches, a female lookalike to Adaline’s pup, Fuzzy, in the other.
“What do you think, Adaline? It’s nice, isn’t it?” Maple prompted.
“It’s a lovely tree,” Adaline said, barely sparing it a glance before fully turning her back on it to square her shoulders in Jace’s direction. “Now about that compromise you mentioned?”
Jace shook his head. “We’re not ready to talk about that yet.”
She pinned him with an accusatory glare. “But you said...”
“Don’t get your tinsel in a tangle. I said I’d tell you all about it once your Christmas tree was set up. We’re not finished yet.” He glanced around the bakery. “Don’t you have anything to decorate it with around here? A string of lights, perhaps?”
His gaze lifted purposefully to the glittering pink bulbs draped behind the bakery counter.
“Maybe you could use some of your bakery ribbon to tie bows on the branches,” Belle said, somehow oblivious to the growing look of horror on Adaline’s face.
“Don’t you still have those cupcake ornaments from last year?” Jenna added.
Jace liked her friends. He liked them almost as much as he liked watching the color rise to Adaline’s face when she was flustered or the way her blue eyes seemed to darken to deep violet every time she turned her gaze on him. Jace had never seen eyes quite that color before—the same extraordinary hue of the wildflowers that gave their fair town its name. That color that had long since meant only one thing for Jace: home.
Adaline answered her friend without tearing those dazzling eyes off him. “Those cupcake ornaments are in the back storage room, but—”
Jace cut her off before she could make an excuse to get rid of him. “Sounds like we could cobble something together, then.”
There was a beat of silence so heavy with meaning that it reminded him of a Christmas carol.
All is calm.
All is bright.
He didn’t want to be alone tonight, and if he couldn’t stay here, he knew he’d eventually find himself at his uncle’s bedside, sitting vigil while Gus’s chest rattled throughout the late night hours.
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Jace’s jaw clenched. This was the absolute last place he wanted to get emotional about his uncle, but he couldn’t seem to make himself turn around and walk out the door.
“You two seem like you’ve got this under control.” Maple glanced back and forth between them until her attention came to rest on Adaline. “Sorry, hon. Ford and I have dinner plans tonight.”
“Oh.” Adaline bit her lip. “That’s okay. I get it. I’m sure you have wedding stuff to discuss.”
“I’ve got to run, too. I’m beat from recital rehearsals. If I stay until that tree gets decorated, someone is going to have to carry me home.” Jenna clipped a leash to the red velvet collar around Ginger’s delicate neck and made her way toward Maple, who was hovering by the door. “Don’t worry about the fundraiser, Adaline. It’s all going to work out. We can chat more tomorrow.”
“She’s right, you know. It’s going to be okay.” Belle gave Adaline a quick hug before joining the rest of their friends near the exit.
Fuzzy stood in the center of the bakery, tail drooping as everyone prepared to leave.
Everyone except Jace, that is. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. It looked like he might be spending the night at the retirement center, after all.
“No worries.” Adaline’s voice brimmed with false cheer. She definitely seemed to have some worries. Lots of them, as far as Jace could tell. “See y’all tomorrow.”
The bells on the door jingled as the three women and their dogs filed outside. Then the bakery immediately went so quiet that Jace could’ve heard a snowflake land on the immaculate tile floor.
“If you tell me where those ornaments are, I can go get them,” he said, eager to fill the awkward silence with noise.
Any noise, basically.
Fuzzy shuffled toward Adaline. She scooped the Cavalier into her arms and regarded Jace over the top of the dog’s head. “You seriously want to stay here and help me decorate the tree?”
He nodded. “I seriously do.”
She studied him, absently stroking Fuzzy’s cinnamon-and-white coat as the dog rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Jace felt a ridiculous stab of envy for the creature.
Maybe he should go.
“Why?” she asked in a voice so soft and quiet that he almost missed the question entirely.
Her sudden vulnerability caught him off-guard, and he knew right then that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Because that tree isn’t going to decorate itself. Because right now, you look as lost as I feel. And because somewhere deep down, you’re just as lonely as I am.
The words were all right there, dancing on the tip of his tongue. But Jace didn’t dare say them. No matter how much she reminded him of a sweeter and gentler time, he didn’t really know Adaline. Not anymore.
No, he corrected himself. Not yet.
Almost immediately, he thought better of it. Adaline had already made it clear she had no interest in getting to know him. The only reason he was even standing there was because he was dangling a compromise over her head like an invisible cluster of mistletoe.
“Because it’s Christmas,” he finally said. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets while he waited for her to tell him that wasn’t a real reason.
“Okay,” she said instead.
“Okay?” he echoed.
“Fa-la-la-la-la and all that.” She rolled her eyes and trudged past him toward the bakery’s back room. “You should probably follow me before I change my mind.”
Fuzzy bounced in her arms with each resigned step. Jace winked at the puppy and fell in step behind them.
“Fa-la-la-la-la.”
An hour later, Christmas music drifted from the overhead speakers, the scent of freshly baked gingerbread mingled with the smell of the majestic fir tree and Adaline almost felt she was in a holiday rom-com.
Except there was zero chance of any rom in this particular rom-com equation. Truth be told, there was barely any com. At least that’s what Adaline told herself, even though the mood in the bakery felt downright cozy.
But was it even possible to maintain a safe, standoffish distance with someone while decorating a Christmas tree? And what kind of monster refused to listen to a little Michael Bublé or Mariah Carey while hanging ornaments? Not Adaline. If they were really going to do this, they were doing it right. Scrooges, take note.
But that meant there was nothing personal whatsoever about the music. Or the baking. Or the way Adaline’s breath caught in her throat when she had to duck beneath Jace’s outstretched arms while they draped sparkly garland around the tree. Even if that last moment felt more like a dance than a holiday chore.
Once Jace had helped her unearth her boxes of ornaments, lights and garland, they’d fallen into a companionable silence. Jace expertly wound the strands of pink lights around the tree’s slender branches while Adaline slid a pan of gingerbread men—along with her new special this year, gingerbread dogs—into the oven. She felt weird just standing there watching him, and the dough had already been cut into shapes and placed on a baking sheet in her Smeg retro-series pink refrigerator. Fuzzy kept himself directly underfoot as she piped each cookie with lacy white royal icing, because again, if Adaline was going to take the time to perform a holiday-related task, she was going to do it with her whole, Christmas-loving heart. It really didn’t matter if the person benefiting from her yuletide spirit was Jace Martin.
Don’t be so sure, a tiny voice said in the back of her head as Jace moaned out loud after biting into a warm Cavalier-shaped gingerbread cookie. The voice sounded awfully similar to Maple.
“What did you put in these? Unicorn tears?” Jace turned the cookie over, inspecting it from every angle. A lone crumb fell, and Fuzzy caught it before it had a chance to hit the ground.
“Unicorn tears? Don’t be silly.” Adaline bit the leg off a gingerbread man. Sweet molasses with a kick of spicy clove melted on the tip of her tongue. “These are Christmas cookies. They’re made with the tears of flying reindeer.”
“Cute.” Jace winked.
Adaline let out an accidental giggle. Then she froze—a reindeer in headlights. Were they...flirting?
She turned to face the tree and shoved what was left of the gingerbread man into her mouth. It landed in the pit of her stomach like a rock. She coughed and beat on her chest with a closed fist while Fuzzy pawed at her shin in alarm.
There it was: the com in this imaginary rom-com.
Or was it the rom?
Adaline couldn’t really tell, and that was a problem. A big one.
“You okay?” Jace narrowed his gaze at her. “Do you want me to get you some water or anything?”
“I’m fine,” Adaline squeaked.
So, so fine. She’d never been so fine in her life. Jace clearly didn’t know her very well. Never had, never would.
“I think we’re probably done here, don’t you?” she said, concentrating intently on the tree.
Unfortunately, it looked amazing. Cherry on Top had never looked so festive, and she had Jace to thank for it. Dang him and dang the sled he rode in on. The man was like Martha Stewart disguised as a hot, tree-wielding lumberjack.
“Oh.” The easy smile on Jace’s face dimmed. He sounded almost disappointed. “I guess we are.”
“Thank you for the Christmas tree.” Adaline placed a few of the leftover gingerbread cookies into a cellophane bag, tied it with some of the pink ribbon they’d used to make bows for the tree and handed the bundle to Jace.
She’d always been better at expressing herself through baking than through actual words. Hence the Great Jace Cookie Disaster of Fifth Grade, plus the post-prom cake humiliation in high school.
She wanted to snatch the cookies back the instant he accepted them. Ugh, would she ever learn?
Adaline pasted a smile on her face. “I guess I’ll probably see you around the retirement center.”
Right now, she just needed him to leave. This evening had been fun and, consequently, also confusing. She wasn’t ready to feel attracted to anyone. Least of all, Jace. She already had a man in her life—Fuzzy. And he loved her just the way she was, big feelings and all. Simply watching Jace turn the package of gingerbread cookies over in his hands was giving her heart palpitations.
Too much. This entire evening wasn’t any different from their elementary school years. He’d been hanging out with her because he felt bad about stealing the town square out from under her. He’d felt sorry for her...
Again.
Some things never changed.
“You don’t have to take those if you don’t want them,” she said with a nod toward the cookies.
“Are you kidding?” He held the package close to his heart. The crinkle of the cellophane captured Fuzzy’s attention, and the Cavalier cocked his head. “No take-backs.”
They truly were back in fifth grade, weren’t they?
“Besides, aren’t you forgetting something?” He gave her a penetrating look that she felt all the way down to her toes.
She bent and picked up Fuzzy, holding him close. A barrier, of sorts. “What do you mean?”
“The compromise.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, just like Santa’s in ’Twas the Night Before Christmas. Or did Santa’s eyes twinkle?
Adaline was losing her mind.
“Right. The compromise.” It was the entire reason she’d agreed to decorating the tree with him. How could it have possibly slipped her mind? “Let’s hear it.”
His gaze strayed out the window, toward the gazebo. “I was thinking what the tree lot could really use is a hot chocolate stand. It could give people a reason to stay and wander through the trees. Make things feel all warm and cozy.”
“That sounds nice.” Adaline nodded, even as that wistful feeling coursed through her again at the thought of happy couples strolling hand-in-hand through the town square, sipping cocoa like a visit to Jace’s tree lot was akin to date night. Which, given the limited options in Bluebonnet, it was likely to become.
Jace’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Good. So you’ll do it?”
“Do what?” She was still waiting to hear about the compromise. So far, he hadn’t uttered a word about giving up a portion of the square to Comfort Paws.
“The hot chocolate stand.” He smiled into her eyes, and Adaline got the distinct feeling she wasn’t going to like whatever he said next. “I can’t handle getting that up and running while I’m also selling trees. So I was thinking your dog group could do it. I’ll make room in the gazebo. You and your friends could keep all the profits.”
No way. This wasn’t a compromise. It was a job offer...for a position that would mean working side-by-side with Jace every night.
No, no, no. Just no.
“All the profits?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. As absurd as his suggestion was, it was her only realistic option to save the Comfort Paws fundraiser. Perhaps she should get all the facts before she told him no.
Which she fully intended on doing.
“All of ’em. One hundred percent.” He reached out a hand and rubbed Fuzzy behind his ears. The dog melted in her arms. “You can bring your pups. They can wear their working dog vests, and we can put out a donation jar for your organization too.”
Adaline was at a loss. It was a generous offer—too generous to simply turn down flat.
“I just thought it might be a good idea. A win-win for us both.” Jace pulled his hand away, and Fuzzy whined at the loss of contact.
The dog swiveled his big eyes toward Adaline, begging for her to agree. That’s what it felt like, anyway.
Don’t look at me like that, she wanted to say.
But it was too late. She couldn’t resist those puppy dog eyes, especially when the entire weight of the Comfort Dog program rested on her shoulders. They could do a lot with an entire Christmas season’s worth of hot cocoa money—maybe even find a space to rent for training classes after the first of the year.
“A win-win,” Adaline murmured. She felt a tingling in her chest and couldn’t tell if it was a sense of triumph or foreboding. Probably both.
Was this what making a deal with the devil felt like?
“Do we have a deal?” He held out a hand, and his choice of words did nothing to alleviate her doubts.
Even so, she slid her hand in his for a shake, taking note of the rough callouses on his palm. The warmth of his skin. The sheer size of him.
These were the hands of a man, not a fifth-grade boy. A man who carried the scent of pine in his bones and who had eyes the color of Christmas trees. A man who liked dogs and gingerbread. A man who’d just given her an offer she couldn’t, in good conscience, refuse.
Some things truly did change, after all.
“We’ve got a deal.”