Chapter 2
Chapter Two
NOAH
I’m an asshole. There’s really no other way to put it. But I know I’m an asshole, and that should count for something. Clearly it doesn’t because ever since last night I can’t stop seeing the hurt in those blue eyes as they looked up at me. It’s like they’re haunting me at every turn.
This is all my sister’s fault. Kim and her wife Coco kept dropping hints about using their cabin the next time I was traveling for work, and I finally gave in. I should have known better than to trust her description of the small town.
Cheerful is a small town, but what my sister failed to mention was that this town is what you’d get if Santa Claus did acid.
Everywhere I turn there’s Christmas decor, Christmas music, singing, children laughing, lights, hot cocoa, and there’s even a goddamn donkey in the center of town wearing a Santa hat. It’s insufferable.
My sister is an agent for a big author named Marley Jacobs, and for whatever insane reason, he chose to live here. All the time. She and Marley are close, and their families spend a lot of time together. That’s the reason Kim and Coco got the cabin in Cheerful.
She wanted to be closer to Marley and his wife Belle, and I can’t help but be a little irritated that she didn’t mention wanting to move closer to me. Although with my sparkling personality, I can’t blame her.
I’m here on business, but the first part of my work trip happened before I arrived in Cheerful.
There’s a town on the other side of the lake where I met with the council and went over their options for a new bridge.
I’m a civil engineer and do pro bono work for cities that are in dire need of new infrastructure.
The bridge that connects that town to Cheerful keeps freezing and becoming unsafe for cars to drive over.
After our meeting was over, I drove across the bridge into Cheerful, and it was starting to get icy.
The town closed the bridge down soon after, and I suspect it’s going to be that way for a few days until they can clear it.
I was planning on staying the weekend to go over the plans, but after they shut it down, who knows how long I’ll have to stay.
I was irritated by that before I got to Cheerful, and then it took me forever to get through downtown.
There was some kind of parade with people dressed up as reindeer everywhere.
By the time I got to Kim’s cabin, I was in a bad mood, and then the cake lady showed up.
It’s no excuse for how I acted, which is why I’m back in hell. Otherwise known as downtown Cheerful.
“Merry Christmas,” a stranger says as they pass me.
I feel my brows pull together in confusion. I don’t know who they are, so why are they talking to me?
“Happy Holidays,” a short man says when he passes me next.
Fuck me, do they do this to everyone?
“Singing under the stars.” A woman in a giant white puffy coat and hat jumps out in front of me, and I’m reminded of a deranged snowman. “This weekend in the town center, come sing with us under the stars.”
She shoves a flier in my hand before I can back away. I grumble my thanks as I barrel down the sidewalk in search of the bakery. I’m starting to think that if I don’t find it soon, I’m going to give up and leave town.
There’s a hardware store up ahead, and I’m surprised to see a redhead in overalls being pressed against the window by a guy in a lab coat as they make out like teenagers. I’m not against affection in public, but those two look like they’re about to fuck in the street.
“Jesus, what is with this place?” I mumble to myself as I keep walking.
I’m busy looking around for the bakery when someone swings open a door in front of me when I’m not looking.
My face is turned to the side when it smacks into the glass, and I stumble back a few steps and see the name Sugar Plum Sweets written in white letters.
That was the bakery name on the box I cleaned up last night.
Welp, looks like I found it.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention and—” It’s Cake Lady. Her blue eyes are wide with panic until she realizes it’s me, and then she stops talking.
“It’s okay. I kind of deserved that,” I tell her as I put my hand on my cheek and rub the spot that smacked into the glass.
The sympathy in her eyes fades away, and the smile she gives me is fake as hell. Why does it make me mad that she’s not giving me a real smile? I don’t deserve one after being an utter asshole to her yesterday. And it’s not like I want one from her anyway.
A group of people walk by singing carols, and my scowl deepens. Ugh. I hate this town.
“Can I help you with something?”
“I came to—”
“Thanks, Molly, you’re the best.” A woman holding several boxes comes out of the bakery, and once she’s through, the cake lady, or I guess Molly, lets go of the open door.
“See ya, Ruth. Oh, and don’t forget to tell Sarah if she brings me that report card with straight As she can have as many popcorn balls as her little hands can hold.”
“I’m definitely going to forget to tell her that,” Ruth calls out, and Molly laughs.
The sound does something funny to my insides, and I have to straighten my shoulders to get it to stop. It must be the altitude that’s making me feel this way.
“Sorry,” Molly says, turning her attention back to me. “What was it you wanted?”
“I was going to say that—”
Just then a young woman pops her head out of the bakery and grabs Molly’s attention. “We’re out of blondies.”
“Did you check the walk-in? I put a fresh tray in there this morning. I was letting them cool before I cut them.”
“Whoops.” The girl goes back inside, and Molly turns back to me.
“You’re busy,” I say, and I want to kick my own ass. Yeah, Noah keeps stating the obvious.
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” She says it with a real smile this time, and I wonder how she can mean that. But I guess anyone willing to live here year-round has to like it.
Cheerful is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but everyone being happy all the time is exhausting. It’s got to be some kind of conspiracy.
The young woman from before pops her head out again. “Molly, I checked the walk-in and didn’t see them. Are you sure those aren’t the ones you cut earlier?”
“Oh, sprinkles. Maybe I did. You know what, I’ll check.” She barely gives me a glance back as she goes to walk inside. “See ya.”
“Wait,” I call out, but she’s already shutting the door in my face. I let out a frustrated sound as I pull open the door and stomp inside. I’m here to apologize, and damn it, she’s going to hear it.
I’m immediately struck by the scent of something good.
It’s a mix of coffee and cinnamon, but it’s more than that too.
It’s cookies and cakes that line the shelves and fresh bread on trays behind the counter.
It’s warm inside, and I pull at the scarf around my neck as I inhale all the delicious treats at once.
“Can I help you?” the person behind the counter asks, and I walk up to look at everything.
I wasn’t planning on eating, but now that I’m here, my stomach growls.
“Two of those, please,” I say, pointing at the top shelf.
“And one of those.” My eyes find something else, and I point to it.
“And three of those.” The person behind the counter writes it all down on a notepad, patiently waiting for me to keep going.
I guess this happens more often than not.
“And a dozen of those,” I finally finish, and they nod.
“It will be a second, but I’ll get your order together and ring you up down at the other end.”
While I wait, Molly comes out from the back of the bakery holding a tray of what looks like vanilla brownies. I wish I could have ordered some of those too, but maybe I’ll come back and get them next time.
Next time? The sugar in this place must be making my brain scramble. I’m not coming back here.
“Molly,” I find myself saying as I step closer to the glass.
She jerks her head up with a bright smile, but once again when she sees it’s me, it falls.
“Did you forget something?” she asks, placing the tray of blondies in the glass counter between us.
“Cake,” I blurt out. Clearly my mouth isn’t working right because why did I say that?
“Yes, I still owe you a cake.” She sighs like she’s stressed and I’m another chore on her list. “I had to remake the one I brought to you last night, and the new one isn’t ready yet. But I promise I’ll drop it off this evening if that’s not too late.”
“That’s acceptable.”
For whatever reason, I’m going out of my way to be a jerk to her, and I don’t know why. Is it because my chest feels funny when she looks at me? Maybe she’s the reason it feels like I’m going to pass out, and this is my body’s way of protecting me.
Yeah, that has to be it. It’s definitely not because I like it when she looks at me.