Where’s your girlfriend?
Uncle Gus’s question nagged at Jace for the rest of the afternoon. He knew Adaline worked most days at Cherry on Top, and he was pretty certain tonight she’d be at the Comfort Paws cocoa cart, but he wasn’t entirely sure. If she’d been his actual girlfriend, he’d likely have a better idea when he might see her next.
They should have a plan, shouldn’t they? They weren’t going to be a very believable couple if they didn’t. It was going to take more than a single kiss outside the senior center to convince the world at large they were in a relationship. Even if that one kiss had been the best Jace had ever experienced...
But that wasn’t why he found himself at the town square a full hour before the Christmas tree lot was supposed to open. He hadn’t heard a word from Adaline since the kiss, so he was guessing she wanted to pretend it had never happened.
Fine, he could do that. He wouldn’t like it, but he was already neck-deep in pretense. What was one more monumental fib? Meanwhile, they needed to have some sort of strategy, so exactly one minute before closing time, he strode through the front door of Cherry on Top, expecting to find Adaline decked out in one of her cute cherry-themed ensembles in her perfect pink world, making more gingerbread dogs or piping generous swirls of green frosting on cupcakes so they looked like Christmas trees.
One step inside the bakery was all it took to know something was amiss. The cases were full to bursting, despite the late hour, and more baked goods covered every millimeter of counter space. Miles and miles of pies, cakes and lemon bars. There was even a cherry pie topped with an elaborate crisscross crust balanced on top of the cash register. He was almost afraid to breathe, lest he knock it over.
Jace was still standing there, taking it all in, when Adaline came bustling into the lobby from the kitchen area, apron askew and messy bun unwinding to the point that half of her blond waves fell around her shoulders. A dab of chocolate dotted the tip of her nose.
She was a mess—a chaotic, frazzled and thoroughly adorable mess.
“Jace,” she said in a way that didn’t exactly tell him she was happy to see him. Her gaze darted to the French doors and back at him. “Sorry, I didn’t hear the bell. I’m kind of in the middle of, of...a few things, actually.”
Jace made a show of looking around at the surrounding pie-palooza. “I can see that.”
“Is there something you needed?” she asked, just as Fuzzy rose up on his hind legs and planted his paws on the fence surrounding his gated-off area in the bakery.
Even the poor dog looked like he’d been through the wringer. One of his ears was flopped inside out and the top of his head sported a dollop of cake batter.
What was going on? It was like Betty Crocker had exploded in here.
Jace ignored Adaline’s question as he walked calmly past her to scoop the puppy in his arms. Fuzzy’s tail wagged against the crook of his elbow as he carried the dog to the French doors and turned over the Open sign so it said Closed. Then, for good measure, he clicked the dead bolt and locked them inside.
“Jace, what are you doing?” Adaline said, and he couldn’t help but notice she’d positioned herself behind the counter so they were separated by several feet of smooth Formica.
“It’s time to take a break, sweetheart,” he said, and that flush he loved so much rose to her cheeks, right on cue. “You and your dog both look like you’re about to fall over. Did you get a huge emergency order today or something?”
“Not exactly. I just felt like doing a little extra baking.” She looked around at the fruits of her labor as if trying to work out where everything came from, like she’d been baking in a fugue state. “Sometimes I bake when I’m nervous.”
And just like that, she’d shared something about herself without him having to drag it out of her like he kept trying to do with his uncle, to no avail.
“This fake dating thing has me a little rattled. Maple was here earlier, and it just hit me that I’m taking a pretend boyfriend to a once-in-a-lifetime family event. What was I even thinking? What if Gram finds out? What if—” She was talking over herself, a mile a minute.
Jace held up a hand before she hyperventilated. “Stop. You’re spiraling.”
He placed Fuzzy back down and walked around the counter so they could talk without an expanse of freshly baked pie between them. Fuzzy’s tiny feet tap-tap-tapped on the slick floor as he followed closely on Jace’s heels.
“Sweetheart,” he said again, as gently as if he was talking to a spooked horse. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s all going to be okay.”
“It is?” She bit her lip and gazed up at him like all her hopes and dreams rested squarely on his shoulders.
Maybe they did, but that didn’t scare him. Jace had carried far heavier loads.
“I promise,” he said quietly, even though he knew he had no right to guarantee such things. She didn’t need to hear that right now, though. More than anything, she needed reassurance. And maybe someone who could grab a fork and put away a few pies.
Jace was up for both challenges.
But he needed to know one thing first. “Do you want to call it off? If so, just say the word and it’s done.”
It wasn’t until the words left his mouth that he realized how much he disliked the idea of ending things before they really began. Uncle Gus seemed pleased that Jace had found someone, even if he pretended otherwise. He’d been more talkative today—a little more tolerable, a little more alive. They’d had something close to a moment. Jace could almost see a flicker of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.
Adaline wasn’t the only one with something at stake here.
After a long, excruciating moment, Adaline blew out a shaky breath. “No, I don’t want to call it off. Unless you—”
“I don’t either,” Jace said before she could even finish the question.
“Good.” She nodded, and at last, Jace spotted a flicker of a smile.
“You’ve got a little chocolate...” He brushed the pad of his thumb over the tip of her nose and she shivered. Every molecule in Jace’s body seemed to go on high alert. “...right there.”
Adaline leaned into his touch and neither of them moved until Jace’s hand slid gently over her soft cheek. Her pupils darkened as he twirled a wayward blond curl around one of his fingers, and all of Jace’s breath bottled up tight in his chest.
Then Fuzzy whined at their feet, and they each took an abrupt backward step.
Saved by the spaniel.
“Sorry,” Jace muttered and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Adaline picked up Fuzzy, and the Cavalier melted into her arms. The little guy didn’t like feeling left out.
Duly noted. Jace scratched the dog under his tiny chin and Fuzzy leaned his whole head into the palm of his hand. No hard feelings, apparently.
“He really likes you,” Adaline said.
“He’s a great dog. You two are really doing something special at the senior center.”
“Thank you. Comfort Paws is really important to us.” Her eyes leapt toward him, and she smiled. It was the most relaxed Jace had seen her since he’d walked through the door. They’d moved on to safer topics, it seemed.
“I was thinking that what we might need are some ground rules,” Adaline said, squaring her chin.
“If that makes you feel better and it stops...” he waved a hand at the surrounding sugar explosion “...all this, then sure. What did you have in mind?”
“For starters, we need a clear time frame.”
Jace nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”
Her eyes shifted so she was looking at an unspecified pastry in the general vicinity rather than directly at him. “I propose midnight on Christmas Eve.”
“That’s very...” he cleared his throat “...specific.”
She shrugged and still didn’t fully meet his gaze. Her attention seemed to be fixed someplace on his forehead. “Like I told you, my brother’s wedding is that night, and I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with me on Christmas Day.”
Oof.
“That would be the worst,” he deadpanned.
Her gaze narrowed. Surely she didn’t believe him. “Wouldn’t you rather spend that day with family?”
That most likely meant Gus and whatever Christmas dinner the senior center had planned, since the odds of getting his uncle to a church, restaurant or even back to the house for the day were slim to none.
“Midnight on Christmas Eve works for me,” he said, evading her question. “What’s rule number two?”
“As little involvement in each other’s family lives as possible. This isn’t going to end well if my gram falls in love with you. Maybe you can turn down the charm a notch or three when you’re around her.”
Jace felt himself smile. “You find me charming?”
“I didn’t say that. I said Gram might think you’re charming.” Adaline squared her shoulders. “Until quite recently I thought you were still an obnoxious fifth grader, remember?”
“Got it. As little family involvement as possible.” Jace’s temples were starting to ache. “Go ahead and hit me with rule number three while my ego is still somewhat intact.”
“No more terms of endearment when we’re alone together.” Fuzzy started squirming as if he had his own problems with these silly rules. She let him down and he made himself scarce to lick an invisible crumb off the floor by the pink Christmas tree. “You can’t call me sweetheart. It’s...”
“Nice?” Jace suggested.
He’d been trying to help her feel better about lying to her family. He’d been trying to make things better, not worse.
Adaline glared at him. “Confusing.”
“Good to know. Shall I go back to Ada-lame, then?” Jace shot back.
Was she intentionally trying to start an argument because things were feeling a little too real between them?
Was he?
Adaline quivered with indignation. “I see fifth grade is finally starting to come back to you in crystal clear focus.”
“What else? Surely, there are more rules.” He had a full-blown headache now. How had things devolved this far?
Look around, genius. She’s scared. Jace ran a hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. You are too. You’re just better at hiding it.
“Just one more.” Adaline held up a finger. “No PDA unless other people are watching.”
“That’s literally the definition of PDA.” Jace formed air quotes, because evidently this conversation had set him back years on the maturity scale. “‘Public display of affection.’ Get it?”
“You know what I mean. No hand holding, no canoodling and no kissing unless it’s for the benefit of an audience,” she said primly.
Canoodling? Who even said that?
Jace regarded her while she stood there blushing so red she could guide Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve. “The kiss rattled you that much, did it?”
“You’re impossible,” she said, but it came out too breathy. Too loaded with the memory of his lips on hers. They both knew it.
“So I’ve heard.”
The romantic tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. For a second, Jace wasn’t sure if she was going to throw herself in his arms and kiss him or if he was about to take a pie to the face. Neither would’ve surprised him a bit.
He nudged a nearby pie pan out of her reach. “That kiss was your idea, but rest assured, it won’t happen again unless you initiate it. Regardless of who’s watching.”
A flash of...something...glittered in her eyes, as blue as the bluest of Christmases. “Good. So we’re on the same page.”
Would it be so bad to admit there were sparks between them?
Probably yes. With anyone else, not so much, but Adaline was different. They were different. Jace wasn’t sure how or why, but when they were together, he felt something bubbling up inside him that made the bad days seem brighter. She shimmered, and when he was around her, he felt that light deep in the marrow of his bones.
He nodded, and made an effort to arrange his features into a mask of the utmost seriousness. These rules she’d come up with were important to her, and he wanted her to feel safe around him. Not just physically, but also emotionally. He wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to her heart. Not again.
Still, despite his best efforts, he felt a smile coming on. At first, it was just a barely noticeable twitch of his lips. But before he could stop it, it bloomed into a full-blown grin, followed by a low chuckle.
Adaline’s pupils flared. “What are you doing?”
Unfortunately, the look of sheer horror on her face made him crack even more. A bark of laughter escaped him.
He cleared his throat. “Nothing.”
“You’re laughing. I’m dead serious about all of this.” She gave him a playful shove. Apparently that didn’t fall under the category of canoodling.
Did she realize that her hand was lingering on his chest, planted right over his heart?
Jace covered it with his and gave her fingertips a gentle squeeze. “I know you are, and that’s what’s funny.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Her forehead crinkled.
“It means that I’m not the impulsive one here. I have no problem whatsoever following a rule book. You, on the other hand...” He aimed a pointed look at her hand, still covered in his and resting on his chest through no fault of his own.
She followed his gaze and snatched her hand back when she realized what she’d done.
“One rule down, three to go.” He leaned forward and brushed a tender kiss to her forehead.
It was nothing remotely scandalous. He’d seen her do the same to Fuzzy countless times already, but somehow it felt every bit as intimate as the kiss in front of the senior center. Maybe even more so.
“There.” He placed the tips of his fingers just under her chin and guided her face gently upward until their lips were just a whisper apart. Her eyes darkened again as they lowered to his mouth, and once she looked every inch like a woman dying to be kissed, he pulled away and winked. “Now we’re even.”
“Thank you for supporting Comfort Paws. Merry Christmas.” Adaline popped a lid onto a cup of cocoa and handed it to a woman wearing a Christmas sweater decorated in a Fair Isle pattern with little red pickup trucks and pine trees.
“Merry Christmas to you too!” The customer dropped a five-dollar bill into their donation jar and gave Fuzzy and Lady Bird each a pat on the head before heading down the steps of the gazebo.
Adaline eyed the jar and tried to calculate how much they’d raised tonight so far. Not a lot, unfortunately.
The tree lot was still doing brisk business, but every night, the crowd was a little bit smaller. Totally normal, according to what Jace had told her when she’d mentioned it. There were only so many people who lived in Bluebonnet and the surrounding area. Word had spread, but it wasn’t like the lot was going to attract repeat business. Once a family chose a tree, that was it.
“Jace seems like he’s in a good mood tonight,” Maple said beside her, dragging Adaline’s attention from the collection of bills in the donation jar to her fake boyfriend, looking disturbingly hot as he swung at the trunk of a fir tree with an axe. An actual axe!
Was he trying to goad her on purpose? He may as well just take off his flannel shirt and be done with it.
Her eyes felt like they were glazing over as she stared, transfixed. Then he glanced up at her as if he knew she was looking the entire time, and the corner of his mouth hitched into a self-satisfied smirk. She wanted to die right there on the spot.
Why did she go and make such a big deal out of those dumb rules? Actually, the rules weren’t the problem, so much as her clear inability to stick to them thus far.
Maybe I’m the problem here.
“I think I know why you like him so much,” Adaline said, gaze flitting from Jace to Lady Bird, where she panted gleefully at Maple’s feet. “He’s a golden retriever.”
“I’m not sure what you’re looking at, but from where I’m standing, Jace is one hundred percent man.” Maple cut her gaze away from Jace’s lumberjack act and back toward Adaline. “I mean that with all due respect to your brother. I’m just making a casual observation.”
“I don’t mean he’s a dog. I’m talking about that article we read online a while back about golden retriever boyfriends. Remember?” The story had caught Maple’s eye for obvious reasons and when she’d shown it to the Comfort Paws girls, they’d all had a good laugh. Adaline thought it was hilarious.
Now, it was hitting a little too close to home.
“Oh, right. I loved that story.” Maple’s attention flitted back toward Jace, who was now high-fiving a group of Girl Scouts who’d just arrived at the lot to learn about Christmas tree farming in exchange for their forestry badge. “It said golden retriever boyfriends are just like the dog breed—outgoing, sweet and friendly. Loyal...”
“Supportive,” Adaline sighed.
After the rules discussion—after the forehead kiss, which left her feeling all warm and gooey inside when what she really wanted was to be mad at him for teasing her—she’d fully expected Jace to turn around and walk back out the door.
She wouldn’t have blamed him one bit. She’d really put all of her insecurities and nuttiness on full display today. Most men she’d known would’ve gone running for the hills.
Not Jace, though. He’d made her laugh, and then, just when she thought she was rid of him, he’d stuck around and helped her clean up the mess she’d made.
She couldn’t believe her eyes when he started picking up pies and carrying them to the back room. He boxed them up. He labeled them in neat, masculine handwriting. He wiped down countertops and swept the floor.
No one had ever taken such perfect care of Adaline like that before. Her intensity could be overwhelming. She knew this about herself. But Jace never wavered. He just loyally stayed put like the golden retriever that he was.
“I’ve lost track.” Maple plucked a marshmallow from the selection of hot chocolate garnishes and popped it into her mouth. “Are we talking about Jace or Lady Bird?”
“Both.” Adaline felt herself frown. “I think.”
Maple regarded her as she chewed her marshmallow. “That article was cute, but I hope you know a supportive partner shouldn’t be considered extraordinary. Frankly, that should be the baseline. You deserve someone who loves you just the way you are and isn’t afraid to show it.”
Adaline knew she was right. But in her experience, that sort of man was more like a unicorn than a golden retriever—more fantasy than reality. She’d never actually encountered one in real life.
“I just hope that person is Jace,” Maple said, while Lady Bird leaned against her legs and gazed up at her with liquid brown eyes.
A weight settled on Adaline’s heart, and she responded the only way she could, seeing as he was supposed to be her boyfriend.
“Me too,” she said as Jace’s eyes found her from across the square. Then the weight on her heart took root until it almost felt like a wish—something impossibly far off and unattainable that only came true at Christmas.
She was in trouble, wasn’t she? So very much trouble. She absolutely couldn’t break another rule.
“I really do.”