Chapter 5
HOLIDAY
Iglance up at the candy cane clock on the wall and see that it’s just past six in the morning. I’ve been at the bakery for two hours already, and I’m debating whether cookies can be used as weapons. Especially if Lucas tries to come in here and buy everything to ruin my day again.
My feet ache, my back is screaming, and I’m only halfway through prepping today’s menu. When I told Emma I’d manage the bakery while she was on maternity leave, I knew that meant working seven and a half weeks straight without a day off.
Being busy is what I need, what I came back for. This job keeps my mind off Paris, off my failed engagement, and off the disaster my life became.
Last night, I barely slept because I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I want to murder Lucas Jolly. I turn the Christmas music up and sing along like it’s a cry for help. Mom used to say singing soothes the soul.
Today, I have two of Lucas’s cousins helping me—Bella and Wendy.
They’re both in their midtwenties and work around the farm when needed.
Bella is opening her own coffee shop and bookstore in town soon but has extra time to help Emma this season.
I used to babysit the Jolly cousins when I was a teenager for extra money.
Once the display case is full, I wipe my hands on my apron.
Today, I’m prepared for the Great Cookie Massacre of Merryville, Round Two.
I grab a peppermint pinwheel from the cooling rack and bite into it. It burns my tongue, and I mutter swear words that would’ve gotten my mouth washed out with soap as a kid.
They’re perfect and I know they’ll fly out of here.
Hopefully not as fast as Lucas buying out my entire stock and handing out cookies like a sexy Santa Claus in designer denim.
I groan. The whole town won’t shut up about it. Pictures were posted on the community Facebook page and the comments were all about how cute we are. Some said his stunt was romantic.
It wasn’t. It was calculated and cruel. And the fact that it backfired and gave me free advertising doesn’t change that he did it to piss me off. It worked.
He may have won yesterday’s battle, but I will win the war this season.
My eyes sting from lack of sleep. My hair is still in whatever messy twist I threw it into this morning, and I haven’t even looked in a mirror.
I walk to the front and add cookies to the case. I glance at the counter, replaying how Lucas leaned against it like he owned the place. I remember that cocky smirk when he said he’d buy everything. The way he called me Peaches and HoHo, knowing those nicknames would get under my skin.
I don’t need a reminder of our past.
Ugh. Lucas Jolly can go straight to hell.
I scrub a mixing bowl harder than necessary, trying to focus on what’s next on my to-do list.
Lucas isn’t part of my life anymore. He’s not even a friend. And after the stunt he pulled yesterday, I’m more convinced than ever that keeping him at a distance is the only way to survive this season. Or he might get his wish and really run me off.
The bell above the door jingles. I glance at the clock. Bella and Wendy aren’t due for another twenty minutes.
“Coming!” I call out.
“It’s just me!” Emma’s voice, which is impossible because she’s on bed rest.
I rush to the front, flour flying off my apron. It’s not Emma, but her voice coming from Hudson’s phone, held up for FaceTime.
“You could’ve just called me directly,” I tell her, giving Hudson a smile. He’s six years older than me, the oldest Jolly brother. He used to be the grumpiest, but it’s clear Lucas has taken over that title.
“We were already chatting, so it was easier to just make Hudson walk over.” Emma’s propped up on approximately twelve pillows. “I want to be there.”
“Let me show you what I made this morning.” Hudson hands me his phone and follows me to the back. “This is what I have so far.”
I pan the camera across racks of cooling cookies and the trays ready for the oven.
“That’s way too much,” Emma protests.
“I’m in charge,” I remind her.
“You are, and I know you’re completely capable of selling every single one,” she says. “I miss being there. Miss the smell of baking cookies. Miss eating them fresh out of the oven.”
I grab a box and load it with still-warm cookies. “Sending these home with Hudson.”
“Speaking of…” Hudson clears his throat. “I should do that before Emma decides she needs to inspect the tree lot, too.”
“I heard that!” Emma says. “But fine. Holiday, you’re doing amazing. Text me if you need anything.”
“You know I won’t.”
She groans. “I know. But I can make phone calls and order supplies.”
I laugh. “Thank you. Now rest. See you soon. Enjoy those cookies.”
Hudson takes his phone and the box just as the bell rings again.
“Morning!” Bella chirps, way too cheerful for this early in the day. She’s wearing a Jolly Christmas Tree Farm sweatshirt, and her hair is in a high ponytail.
I open the kitchen door for her. “Bella!”
“I go by B now.”
“I’m not calling you that. You’ll always be my little Bella-boo.”
“I’m twenty-four now. Soon to be twenty-five.” She rolls her eyes.
Hudson barely holds back his laugh as he leaves. “Bella-boo. Using that from now on.”
Bella groans.
Wendy steps inside and slides an apron on. They both look just like all the other Jolly women, with dark hair and bright green eyes. They’ve both already tied on their aprons.
“Smells incredible in here,” Wendy says.
I trained them both last month on bakery basics, since Bethany can’t work more than twenty hours a week. Their little sister, Bristol, moved away for college or she would be here, too.
“Thanks for helping,” I offer. “Very appreciated.”
“Looking forward to it,” Bella says. “I’m doin’ recon for my coffee shop and bookstore.”
I grin. “I’ll invent special recipes for you.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Of course. I love creating new things,” I tell her, and she’s instantly giddy.
As Wendy arranges cookies in the display case, Bella keeps sneaking glances at me.
“What?” I finally ask.
“Nothing,” she says.
“Bella.”
Wendy snorts. “She’s been dying to ask you about Lucas since we got in the car.”
“Seriously!” Bella scolds. “I told you to keep your mouth shut.”
“What about Lucas?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
Bella arranges chocolate peppermint cookies with intense focus. “The whole cookie thing yesterday. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Of course they are.” I grab more trays from the kitchen, slamming them down harder than necessary. “It’s Merryville. People around here have nothing better to do than make up stories.”
“It’s just—” Bella exchanges a look with Wendy. “Lucas usually doesn’t do grand gestures. That’s not his style.”
I laugh and it comes out bitter. “Trust me when I say, it wasn’t a grand gesture. It was him being a vindictive asshole. He did it to hurt me, and everyone who thinks it’s romantic is delusional.”
“That’s what I said!” Wendy pipes up. “But it is kinda romantic.”
“It’s not.” I wipe down the counter with more force than needed. “He spent twenty-four hundred dollars just to piss me off. That’s psychological warfare.”
Not to mention, he chewed up my fudge brownie and then spit it out like there was something wrong with it. Dickhead!
“Potato, po-tah-to.” Bella grins, clearly not taking me seriously. “Lucas buying out an entire bakery is pretty dramatic for someone who claims to hate you. That’s a lot of money.”
I stop wiping and look at her. “He does hate me. And the feeling is more than mutual. So everyone needs to stop shipping us like we’re kids again. We’re not.”
“Does he hate you, though?” Bella pushes. “Because my cousin doesn’t have a hateful bone in his body. He’s one of the sweetest guys I know.”
Sarcastic laughter falls from my lips. “You clearly don’t know him like I do. I deal with the worst versions of his personality. And he’s made it very clear he wants me gone. Wanted me gone the moment I arrived.”
“Not convinced.” Bella pauses, and I can tell she’s debating whether to say what’s coming next. “Lucas hasn’t dated anyone seriously since your engagement was announced.”
My hand stills on the counter. “What?”
“It’s true,” Wendy confirms. “Half the women in Merryville have tried. He goes out with them for a few weeks, then dumps them. Mrs. Harold’s daughter. That teacher from the elementary school. The new veterinarian threw herself at him last Christmas.”
“Once news spread about you, he cycled through women like he was searching for something, then eventually gave up,” Bella adds. “The family jokes that he’s now married to the tree farm. This is his escape.”
That’s the real reason he hates me being here.
I force myself to focus on my task at hand, to keep my expression neutral. “Some people are better off being single.”
My mind is racing. Why can’t Lucas commit to anyone?
Unless…
No. I’m not doing this. I’m not reading into it.
“Yeah. You know…” Bella leans against the counter. “It’s like he’s been waiting for something. Or someone.”
“He needs a miracle,” I snap, harsher than I mean to.
“I’m just saying, you’re both sing—”
“Lucas and I will never be a thing. He literally hates me. Did you miss the part where he called me pathetic? Told me I was desperate? After everything I’ve been through.
That’s not the behavior of a man who’s waiting for me.
Putting us together was super cute when Lucas and I were teenagers. It’s not anymore.”
“Did you ever like him?” Wendy asks softly.
“No,” I lie, my throat tight. “Conversation over. No more talking about him. Seriously. It puts me in a bad mood.”
I grab tea lights from storage and place them around the bakery, hoping to brighten the mood. The morning is overcast, with gray clouds hanging low.
Bella looks like she’s going to say something, but Wendy touches her arm. I pretend not to see because this conversation needs to end before I lose my cool. If they all saw how he treated and spoke to me, they’d realize we’re dancing in hell together.
The bell above the door jingles.