Adaline channeled every last ounce of her frustration into baking, and by noon, she’d made enough pie to feed half of Texas. Too bad she didn’t have someplace to unload all the extra inventory. Like a bake sale, for instance.
Since she was now swimming in pie, she shot off a group text to the Comfort Paws girls inviting them over for an after-hours meeting about the Christmas fundraiser—which, for all practical purposes, was nonexistent. Maple, Jenna and Belle turned up just as Adaline was flipping the sign on the French doors from Open to Closed.
Within minutes, she was feeling better about things. She could figure this out. She had to figure this out. In the meantime, her little bakery on the square was filled with the warm, comforting scents of flaky pie crust and buttery cinnamon. Her three best friends in the world were there, supporting her, even after the mess she’d made of her grand plans. Lady Bird was splayed on the tile floor, patiently allowing Peaches and Fuzzy to climb all over her while Ginger sat beneath the bakery counter in hopes of catching a stray crumb. All in all, there were certainly worse ways to spend a Friday night.
The only thing lacking was the view.
“I can’t believe he’s still out there hauling trees around.” Maple attempted to spear her fork at a slice of peach pie and missed. Hardly a surprise since her gaze was glued to the front windows and the scene beyond.
The Christmas tree lot looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Between rolling out crusts and swirling buttercream on top of cupcakes, Adaline had watched Jace meticulously string twinkle lights from each corner of the gazebo to the antique light posts flanking the square. The trees stood in majestic rows, from short to tall. He’d even hung a hand-painted sign that read Texas Tidings Christmas Tree Farm. All he needed out there was a dusting of snow, and Lacey Chabert would probably appear out of nowhere with a camera crew.
The wholesomeness of it made it hard for Adaline to look away. That was the only rational explanation for the fact that she’d been stealing glances at Jace and his dreamy winter wonderland every chance she got. Her preoccupation with the Christmas tree lot had nothing whatsoever to do with the way his strong shoulders strained the seams of his flannel shirt every time he hauled an armful of timber across the square.
Belle managed to drag her gaze away from the man in question as he tied a tree to the roof of someone’s car. She aimed a fascinated glance at Adaline. “He’s really been out there all this time? He must be exhausted.”
“Maybe you should offer him some pie. He could probably use it, and it looks like you have plenty to spare.” Jenna cast an amused glance at the stacks of pink Cherry on Top pie boxes behind the counter.
“You can’t be serious,” said Adaline, agog. “He stole our spot.”
Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “Did he really, though?”
“I agree. It seems more like a misunderstanding than outright theft,” Belle said.
Technically, her friends were correct. But Adaline was having a difficult time seeing the situation through an objective lens. On the contrary, her lens had never been more biased.
“What did the mayor’s office say when you reached out to them?” Maple offered Adaline a sympathetic smile. She was the only one who knew the full story of Adaline’s history with Jace. Adaline had simply told the others that she and Jace had known each other in grade school.
Not that she was trying to hide anything. She was simply trying to keep the full extent of her fifth-grade drama in the past where it belonged, especially now that the source of that drama had moved back to Bluebonnet and set up camp directly outside her door.
“They apologized for the confusion, but the mayor’s assistant said they didn’t really have a choice since the Christmas tree lot was willing to pay generously for the use of the space.” Dang Jace Martin and his big fat checkbook. “She was really apologetic about dropping the ball and forgetting to let me know in advance, though. So there’s that, at least.”
Not that kindness could solve their current dilemma.
Adaline took a deep breath. “I think the only thing we can do at this point is try and come up with an alternate location for the fundraiser. As far as the bake sale goes, I could offer special items here at the bakery with all proceeds going toward Comfort Paws.”
It might make a nightmare out of her in-shop accounting system, but she could deal with it. What choice did she have?
“We could probably do Santa photos in the lobby of the pet clinic on a few afternoons.” Maple pulled a face. “Except a lot of pets are nervous about going to the vet, so that might only work for children, not cats and dogs.”
Jenna sighed. “If we weren’t so busy with rehearsals for our Christmas recital, I’d say we could use my dance school for the Santa photos. I just don’t see how it could work. The dance moms would come unglued. Sorry, girls.”
“It’s okay. We’ll think of something,” Maple said.
Tears pricked the backs of Adaline’s eyes. They’d lost an entire day of fundraising, and she was no closer to figuring things out than she’d been this morning when Jace dumped a forest at her front door.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck looking at that lumberjack and his Christmas tree lot all day, every day.” She dropped her head in her hands and groaned.
“Um, Adaline.” Maple cleared her throat. “Don’t look, but here comes the lumberjack now.”
“What?” Adaline’s head snapped up. Of course she looked. She couldn’t help herself.
Her eyes immediately locked with Jace’s through the French doors. Before she could look away and pretend she hadn’t seen him, he winked at her.
Ugh.
But even as she choked down a gag reflex, a rebellious swarm of butterflies took flight in her belly. They fluttered about like a dizzying swirl of snowflakes.
Knock-knock-knock.
The rapping of his knuckles against the French doors jolted her out of her trance.
Maple, Jenna and Belle all turned to look at her. As did the four dogs.
“Are you going to let him in?” Maple arched a brow. “Or shall I do the honors?”
“We’re closed,” she said flatly.
“Something tells me he’s not here for baked goods,” Jenna countered.
He waggled the fingers on his left hand in a wave. In his right, he held onto the slender trunk of a perfectly-shaped blue spruce.
Again with the Christmas tree? This guy didn’t know how to take no for an answer. With a huff, Adaline slid off her barstool and headed for the door. Lady Bird, Ginger, Peaches and Fuzzy followed right on her heels, tails swinging in perfect unison.
“Sorry, we’re closed. This is a private party,” she said as she swung the door open. A fresh wave of woodsy aroma came flooding toward her, and the distant twinkle lights formed a soft halo around Jace. Her indignation took a serious hit, especially when all four dogs sniffed and pitter-pattered merrily around him like he was a gift sent straight from Santa.
He bent to lavish attention on each adoring canine and tipped his head toward the tree. “Where would you like me to put it? It’s already got a tree stand attached. All you have to do is tell me where you want it, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Adaline bit her lip. It was the prettiest, most fragrant, most perfectly shaped Christmas tree she’d ever set eyes on. It would look incredible decorated with her collection of cupcake ornaments that were currently sitting in a box in the bakery’s storage room, untouched since last year.
But there was no way she was accepting it. Her fifth-grade self wouldn’t allow it. Nor would her current thirty-something-year-old self, although that version of Adaline was beginning to waver.
“I told you I don’t need a tree,” she said.
Jace stood, gaze flitting around the interior of the bakery with eyes that Adaline couldn’t help but notice were the exact same woodsy green color as the trees on his lot. “Your lack of holiday decor says otherwise.”
“I haven’t had time to put anything up yet.” Which, now that he mentioned it, was very unlike Adaline. She loved Christmas. “I’ve been a little busy with the bakery, training my puppy and our therapy dog visits to the retirement center.”
“Plus the Comfort Paws fundraiser,” he added with an arch of his left brow.
The snow flurries dancing about in Adaline’s belly came to a screeching halt. Was he mocking her predicament?
“What fundraiser?” she countered.
“Touché.” He rubbed his free hand over his face, and that’s when Adaline saw it—the exhaustion etched in the lines around his eyes. It wasn’t an ordinary exhaustion, either. The deep-carved weariness in those lines was about more than mere physical labor.
Grinchy Uncle Gus.
Mr. Martin’s sour expression sprang straight to the forefront of Adaline’s mind. She’d been so wrapped up in herself and her own problems that she’d all but forgotten about Jace’s grinchy uncle. Was Mr. Martin the reason he’d come back to Bluebonnet?
She couldn’t imagine having to deal with that man on a regular basis, much less having him as an actual blood relation. It almost made her feel sorry for Jace.
Great. Just what she needed—another crack in her resistance.
“Look, I feel bad about what happened, okay? It wasn’t my intention to kick your group out of the space,” he said. “I like dogs.”
Judging by the slobbery display of affection going on at his feet, the feeling was mutual.
Adaline glared at Fuzzy. Where was her dog’s sense of loyalty? But Fuzzy was too busy gazing up at Jace, hoping for a pat or a scratch behind the ears, to notice.
She’d trained her therapy dog too well, that’s all. He was just doing his job, showering affection on anyone and everyone he came across. Grade-school heartbreakers included.
“I’d like to propose a compromise,” Jace said.
Adaline’s gaze flew back to his face. “What kind of compromise? Unless it involves moving your tree lot far, far away, I’m not interested.”
Jace’s eyes flashed over her, and the corner of his mouth curled, as if he could see straight inside her head and read her every thought. Because the truth was, a compromise didn’t sound half-bad. At this point, she might have to take what she could get.
“As soon as you let me come inside and set up your Christmas tree, I’ll tell you.”