Chapter Eleven
J ordyn should be embarrassed—thoroughly embarrassed—for showing up at Nate’s front door the next afternoon, but a call from Roxie early that morning, inviting Jordyn to come to Frosted Firs Ranch and bake gingerbread had been impossible to resist.
So, at two o’clock the next afternoon, Jordyn stood at the front door of the main house at Frosted Firs Ranch, cradling a basket stocked full of cooking supplies in her arms while her heart beat rapidly in her ears.
“Just stay cool,” she whispered to herself quietly. “You don’t even get this worked up in the arena.”
Okay, so she’d kissed Nate on the floor of the bar the night before. So what? He’d asked her to, and when she’d hovered over him, looking into his deep blue eyes as he pleaded with her, she hadn’t had the heart to deny him. In fact, she had longed for the moment for quite some time, hoping he’d come to his senses and decide to take a chance on her. But her secret fantasies of Nate finally succumbing to his attraction to her had not involved copious amounts of alcohol.
That, she could have done without.
It wasn’t that she didn’t think he could fall for her when sober. She knew how to turn on the charm when she needed to, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Nate was just as strongly attracted to her as she was to him—especially if his words the night before were anything to go by.
I want to kiss you. A lot.
That’s what he had said as he had stared up at her with a yearning expression.
Her blood rushed at the thought. Even now, she’d give in to him again in a split second if he extended the invitation for her to kiss him a second time. And oh, how she hoped he would!
The remembered feel of his lips against hers had stayed on her mind—and heart—all last night and through the morning and afternoon. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to feel Nate’s arms around her again, his mouth on hers and his—
The front door opened and Nate stood in front of her, a carefully guarded expression on his handsome face.
“Oh!” The basket slipped in her grip, and she hefted it higher against her chest, her cheeks burning. “I . . . good morning—er, afternoon, I mean.”
Boy, did he look wonderful! Despite the dark circles under his eyes and his stubble-lined jaw (possibly small signs of a hangover that still clung to him), he looked as gorgeous as ever. His blond hair was tousled adorably and unlike last night, today, he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt suitable for the winter wind that swept over the porch and rustled through their hair.
“Hi.” He stared back at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing silently before he stepped back and opened the door wider. “Please, come in, out of the wind. You must be freezing.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she said, walking past him into the foyer. “A little windy, I guess. But I’ll take it. The weatherman said the cold front coming through is going to bring another round of snow.” She smiled, just the thought of a white Christmas making her giddy. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Seeing snow fall on Christmas morning?”
He issued a small smile. “Yeah. But that doesn’t happen too often—even up here in the mountains. It’s kind of a guessing game as to when we’ll get snow and how much of it.”
“But the thought of it’s nice, just the same,” she said, hefting the basket higher in her arms again, the weight of it digging into the soft skin of her forearms.
“Here.” He reached out, grabbed the basket and lifted it from her arms. “Why don’t we go put this down and give your arms a break?”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
How formal they were being, considering that less than twenty-four hours before, they’d been kissing on the floor of a barroom.
Oh, for heaven’s sake! Stop thinking about the kiss, girl. Focus on being calm and collected.
“I was pleasantly surprised when Roxie called me this morning.” She followed him into the kitchen, watching as he set the basket of gingerbread ingredients on the island. “When we spoke, I didn’t think to ask if it was okay with you if I came over. I was just so excited at her invitation, considering the gingerbread contest is tomorrow and my oven’s still broken and all.” She picked at the hem of her sweater. “Do you mind? That I came here today, I mean?”
“No.” He faced her then, his gaze clinging to hers, his blue eyes intense. “Not at all.”
“Good.” She sighed. “Because I was hoping—”
“I wanted to—”
They both fell silent, staring at each other. After a moment, Jordyn gestured for him to continue.
“I’m glad you came today,” he said. “I wanted to . . .” His chest lifted on a deep inhale. “I wanted to apologize to you for my behavior last night.”
Oh, no. No, no, no! She didn’t want an apology from him; she wanted—
“I shouldn’t have . . .” His cheeks flushed a deep scarlet red. “I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, I suppose. But I especially shouldn’t have done them in the middle of the contest or on the floor of a bar in front of everyone.”
“Do you . . .” She glanced around, taking in the empty kitchen and hallway nearby, then continued in a low voice, “Do you regret kissing me?”
He moved closer, his tan hand sliding across the countertop of the island, stopping inches from her arm. After what seemed like a silent eternity, he said softly, “No. Of all the things I do regret about last night, that’s the one thing I don’t.” He grimaced. “I just wish I’d chosen a more suitable location and time.”
She ducked her head, trying to hide her smile, but the pleasure that bubbled up from her middle at his words was difficult to contain. “Good. Because I don’t regret it either.” She looked up then, holding his gaze as she smiled. “I rather enjoyed it.”
He smiled back. “I did, too. Very much.” But then, his smile faded and he looked away, his fingers moving nervously against the edge of the countertop. “But I don’t want you to think I don’t still have reservations—because I do.” His eyes returned to hers and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “You see, there’s more to this than just you and me. I have a daughter. A daughter I need to consider in all my choices. And what I did last night . . .” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “That’s not exactly the example I’d like to set for her.”
“I understand,” she whispered. “You’re a good father, Nate. No one can dispute that.”
“Thank you. But I’m not as good a one as I could be.” His hand lifted toward her, then stopped briefly in midair before continuing its journey, his fingers trailing through the long waves of her hair as he said softly, “I won’t lie to you, Jordyn. I do feel very strongly for you.” He moved even closer, his palms cupping her face. “And I do still want to kiss you.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “A lot . . . in every way.”
A soft sigh of relief escaped her lips, and she stepped closer to him, lifting her own hands and curling them around his forearms. “And I still want you to kiss me.”
He fell silent, his thumbs drifting over her cheeks. Then he looked down at her hands, which were still curled around his forearms, released her and stepped away. “I just don’t know that I’m ready for this.”
Jordyn stilled, her heart hammering against her chest. “You’re not ready? Or your heart isn’t ready?”
He held her gaze, a guarded expression crossing his face. “Both.” A groan escaped him as he rubbed his forehead. “I loved Macy very much—I still do. I don’t know that I’m truly ready to let her go yet.”
Even when I can love you? As much as she did? Jordyn froze, the thoughts flitting through her mind making her breath stall in her lungs. Love? Was that really how she felt about him?
She stood there before him in the silence, considering it. And then, her pulse slowing and breath returning, she could admit it . . . at least to herself.
Yes. She loved him. She loved Nate Reed. From the moment she’d met him, it seemed.
Not that she was sentimental or believed this kind of thing was common. But she couldn’t deny how she felt about him. And she didn’t want to.
Yet he was standing right in front of her, telling her he wasn’t sure if he was ready for a relationship. Or if he was even ready to let his late wife go.
So . . . where did that leave her?
“Please understand,” Nate said softly. “I’m trying here. I’m really trying. I just don’t know how much of my heart I have left to give. Or how much of it I’m willing to risk, considering that every decision I make regarding my life directly affects my daughter in some way.”
Jordyn lowered her head and looked down at her hands. Then she threaded her fingers together and squeezed her palms tightly against each other, buying a few more silent moments to collect her thoughts.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “And I do understand.” She glanced up and managed to smile. “Truly, I do.”
She just hoped, with all her heart, that he’d change his mind.
“I’m not saying never,” he whispered urgently, searching her expression. “I’m just saying—”
“Ms. Jordyn!”
They sprang apart as Roxie barreled into the room, ran across the kitchen and threw her arms around Jordyn’s waist.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Roxie propped her chin on Jordyn’s middle and looked up, smiling brightly. “We’re gonna have so much fun! I already took the butter out so it’ll be soft for mixing and I have the brown sugar and the molasses and cinnamon and ginger and flour and—”
“Roxie, don’t jump all over Jordyn the moment she arrives,” Nate said, smiling.
Grinning, Jordyn waved away his concern. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’m just as excited as she is, actually.” She looked down at Roxie, cupped the little girl’s face in her hands and lifted her chin. “Go ahead. Tell me all about it, sweet girl.”
Roxie’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I don’t know what you like to put on your gingerbread houses, but I like gumdrops and peppermint on mine. And I got some white icing and some pink icing and some yellow icing and—”
“Every color icing there is,” Nate finished for her, laughing.
“How perfect,” Jordyn said. “You can never have too much icing.”
“Hey, Jordyn.” Tucker strolled into the kitchen, an urgent look on his face.
Jordyn greeted him, then asked, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Tucker motioned toward Nate. “But the gift shop’s packed full. I could really use a hand checking people out.”
Nate hesitated, glancing from Roxie to Jordyn then back again. “But—”
“Go ahead,” Jordyn said. “Roxie and I can handle the ovens on our own.”
“We sure can!” Roxie shouted. “And I’ll show Ms. Jordyn how to make the gingerbread.”
“But you didn’t come over here to babysit,” Nate said. “You shouldn’t have to—”
“I’m not having to do anything,” Jordyn said softly. She looked down at Roxie and tugged the little girl’s blond ponytail gently. “Besides, I’m not babysitting. I’m spending time with a new friend and learning how to make gingerbread. How awesome is that?”
Roxie smiled from ear to ear. “Really awesome! And I promise I’m going to help you make the best gingerbread in the world so you’ll win the Gingerbread Architect contest tomorrow.”
“Hold up, there,” Tucker said, his mouth twitching. “Don’t be giving away all our secrets, kid. Ms. Jordyn here has already taken several wins from us already.”
Roxie made a face and planted her hands on her hips. “You’re supposed to share, Uncle Tucker. Ms. Jordyn has just as much right to win the gingerbread contest as we do.”
“Good girl,” Nate said, bending down and kissing Roxie’s forehead. “I’m proud of you for displaying such good sportsmanship. That’s a vital quality in a good competitor.”
Tucker groaned. “Whatever. Just get the lead out and come help me in the gift shop. You have no idea how long that line is. We’ll be lucky if we’re able to close it down by midnight tonight.”
“Alright, I’m coming.” Nate followed Tucker as he exited the room, but he paused on the threshold and glanced back at Jordyn. “You sure this is okay with you?”
“Of course.” Jordyn waved him on. “Go ahead. Take care of business. Roxie and I will have all the fun to ourselves.”
“That’s right, Daddy. You’re gonna miss all the fun, and our gingerbread houses are gonna be the best gingerbread houses in Noel.”
Nate grinned. “With you in charge, I have no doubt about that.”
After Nate left, Jordyn and Roxie gathered all the ingredients and organized them in neat rows on the island. Roxie laid out paper patterns in the shape of rectangles in different sizes for the gingerbread houses they were going to make. Next, they mixed the dough by beating together butter, brown sugar, molasses, cinnamon, ginger and several other ingredients, humming Christmas tunes over the bang of the mixer.
After chilling the dough for thirty minutes, they rolled it out on a large cookie sheet, placed the patterns on top of the dough and cut out each of the shapes. After that, they baked the gingerbread and removed it from the oven, placing it on the counter to cool.
“That’s all there is to it?” Jordyn asked, sitting on the barstool next to Roxie.
Roxie laughed. “No! That’s the easy part. Now, we have to decide which decorations we’re gonna use to pretty up the house.”
“And then we can put our house together?” Jordyn teased.
“Nope.” Roxie grinned back. “You can’t put your gingerbread house together until the actual contest. You have to do that in the town square in front of the judges.” Her smile faded a bit. “That’s the part I’m scared of.”
“What do you mean?”
Roxie sighed. “I told Daddy and Uncle Tucker that I wanted to be the one to make the gingerbread house this year.” She looked up at Jordyn and lifted her chin. “I’m old enough now. And I make really good gingerbread houses. It’s just that . . . well, I get nervous in front of people.”
Jordyn smiled and smoothed the child’s bangs gently away from her forehead. “I think everyone gets nervous in front of people, sweetheart. But if you just focus on the task in front of you rather than the crowd, you’ll do a wonderful job.”
Roxie looked up at her, uncertainty in her eyes. “Do you think so? You think I can do it?”
Jordyn nodded. “I know you can.”
Roxie stared up at her for a moment, her eyes roving over Jordyn’s face as she remained silent. Then, she took one of Jordyn’s hands between her own and turned it over, drawing a gentle line with her finger from Jordyn’s wrist to the tips of her fingers.
“Your hand’s a lot bigger than mine,” Roxie said quietly.
Jordyn laughed softly. “Well, that’s because I’m a lot older.”
“You’re twenty-five, right?”
Jordyn frowned. “How do you know that?”
Roxie glanced up, her cheeks blushing. “Daddy and Uncle Tucker talked about it when you first moved in next door.”
Interesting. Jordyn hid a smile. So, Nate had discussed her with Tucker? That could be interpreted as a good sign, she supposed.
“Dad said my mom was twenty-four when she . . .” Roxie fell silent, then continued quietly, “When she had me.”
The somber note of grief in Roxie’s voice was unmistakable.
Heart aching, Jordyn eased her elbows onto the counter, then laid her free arm on the counter, palm turned up in invitation.
Roxie accepted, placing her other hand on top of Jordyn’s palm and pressing it against Jordyn’s. “You’re older than she was.”
Jordyn nodded.
“Did you . . .” Roxie glanced at Jordyn beneath her lashes. “Have you ever thought about having a little girl one day?”
Throat tightening painfully, Jordyn met the little girl’s direct gaze. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve thought about it before. That’s one of the reasons I moved to Noel. I wanted to make a home for myself. Maybe even a family.”
Roxie lifted her head, biting her lip before she asked, “So you want one? A daughter, I mean?”
Jordyn smiled gently. “Yes. One day. I suppose I’ve always wanted to be a mom at some point in the future.”
Roxie looked back down at their hands, considering this. “What’s it like to have a mom?”
Jordyn curled her thumbs over the little girl’s hands, sweeping them gently across her delicate skin. “I don’t know. I’ve never had one.”
Roxie looked up in surprise. “Really? You’ve never had a mother?”
Jordyn shook her head. “Or a dad. Or a home really.” She smiled. “Until now. Chestnut Ridge is the first place I’ve ever had that’s all my own. And as for your other question about a mother, well, I think the Nanas are really close to what a mother would be like.”
Roxie’s brows rose. “The Nanas?”
“Yeah.” Smiling, Jordyn shrugged. “The Nanas care about people. They help them when they’re in need, look for ways to make other people’s lives better. They fuss over you, bring welcome baskets if you’re new to town and”—she winked—“knit wool caps for your head so your ears don’t get cold.”
Roxie giggled.
“So yeah,” Jordyn said. “I think the Nanas are probably a lot like a mother would be.”
Roxie hesitated, then squeezed Jordyn’s hands gently. “I think you’d be a good mom.”
Unexpectedly, tears coated Jordyn’s lower lashes, threatening to fall. She blinked rapidly and smiled brightly instead. “And you know what?” she asked Roxie softly. “I think any mother would be proud to have you as her daughter.”
Smiling brightly, Roxie hopped up higher on her barstool, threw her arms around Jordyn’s neck and squeezed.
Jordyn hugged her back as a fresh wave of tears gathered on her lashes. It was no wonder to her now, that Nate had reservations about opening his heart, his home, and his family to her. Because how in the world could anyone risk breaking this little girl’s precious heart?
“Welcome to Noel’s annual Christmas Gingerbread Architect contest!”
Nate, standing in the center of the town square the next afternoon with Roxie by his side, clapped along with the rest of the crowd that had gathered together below the stage as Carol Belle commenced the day’s contest.
It was a beautiful day for building gingerbread houses outdoors. There was an arctic chill in the air, but the sun was bright and warm if you stood beneath it. With this in mind, Nate had directed Roxie toward the south end of the tables that had been lined up. The sunlight was strong in that spot and would help keep Roxie’s cold fingers slightly warmer and, hopefully, a bit more limber as she constructed her gingerbread house.
“This year,” Carol Belle continued, speaking into the mic on the stage, “we had an overwhelming response to the Gingerbread Architect contest. Today, we have the privilege of hosting the largest number of Gingerbread Architects in the history of Noel’s Christmas competition. Give yourselves a hand for making today’s contest a success before it’s even begun!”
The crowd applauded and Carol Belle clapped with them, the bright smile on her face indicative of her pleasure at the increase in participation.
“Daddy?” Roxie tugged urgently at the belt loop on Nate’s jeans.
He looked down, smiling. “Yeah, sweetie?”
Her big blue eyes, worried and intense, clung to his. “There are so many people here.”
“I know.” He bent closer to her ear to be heard over the applause of the crowd. “Isn’t it great? That means a lot more people will get to see your beautiful gingerbread house when you finish it.”
Roxie nibbled on her lower lip, her gaze darting across the throng of people behind them. “I guess.”
Noting the worry that flickered through her expression, Nate sank to his knees in front of her, took her hands in his and squeezed gently. “What’s worrying you, sweetheart?”
She eased closer to him, saying softly, “I don’t like getting up in front of all these people.”
“I know,” Nate said. “And you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But I think if you give it a shot, you’ll find you enjoy it.”
“Maybe, but . . .”
“But what?” He tapped the tip of her nose. “You’re well prepared. You and Ms. Jordyn baked the perfect gingerbread sheets for your houses. You showed them off to me last night, remember? You were so excited to get here today so you could build your house.”
And he’d been surprised—very surprised, in fact—at how well she and Jordyn had gotten along on their own.
After leaving Jordyn and Roxie alone in the kitchen last night and joining Tucker in the gift shop, he’d thought of little else but the two of them as he rang up customers and wrapped gifts for the next several hours. During the holidays, Frosted Firs Ranch’s gift shop was always busy but this year it seemed it was especially crowded.
Noel’s Christmas competition had, as always, infused even more excitement into the coming holiday, and most of the town’s residents were out and about, enjoying the sights and sounds of Christmas downtown and sweeping eagerly through each shop, excited to find the next Christmas gift on their list.
Nate was grateful for the patronage—every dollar the ranch earned was another dollar he could put away for Roxie’s college education or perhaps a car for her sixteenth birthday, or even a savings account that he could set aside for her when she was ready to buy a house of her own, far into the future.
He was grateful for the extra business, and normally he would even have enjoyed ringing up customers to the tune of holiday music and a cheerful atmosphere.
But yesterday evening had been different. He had wanted to apologize to Jordyn for his behavior at the Eggnog Nod—and he had—but he hadn’t planned on having to leave her directly after that. And he certainly hadn’t planned on imposing upon her as a babysitter for hours on end while he worked in the gift shop.
What must she think of him? Caring for his daughter was an imposition to say the least, especially when she’d only come over to use the oven.
When the line in the gift shop had finally shortened and Tucker had things well in hand again, Nate had returned to the main house, expecting to find Jordyn polite, but possibly weary of entertaining his daughter for several hours alone.
Instead, when he’d entered the kitchen, Jordyn and Roxie had been huddled at the island in the center of the kitchen, sipping hot chocolate from Christmas mugs, sorting through gumdrops, peppermints, sprinkles, and other edible decorations and arranging them into piles, giggling and whispering all the while.
They’d been so engrossed in the activity that neither of them had looked up when he’d arrived, and he’d stood on the threshold and leaned against the doorjamb, smiling softly as he watched them enjoy each other’s company.
There was something about it—the sight of Jordyn sitting with his daughter, sharing soft whispers and giggles, sipping hot cocoa and anticipating the excitement of the next day’s Christmas contest. He had on many occasions over the years tried to imagine what life would’ve been like had Macy survived Roxie’s birth. How Macy and Roxie would’ve looked together, smiling and talking, much as Roxie and Jordyn were now.
The image in his mind had been surprisingly like the one before him, full of patient kindness and shared delight. But the sight of Jordyn, sitting with Roxie in his kitchen, in his home, felt different somehow.
For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it might feel like to have Jordyn in his home on a daily basis. To be standing here, in the doorway of his kitchen, watching Jordyn and Roxie enjoy baking gingerbread together and delighting in each other’s company, sharing a joyful moment as a mother and daughter would.
A desperate longing took hold of him then, and he found it difficult to let go of the moment, wincing slightly as Roxie glanced up and finally noticed him.
“The gingerbread Ms. Jordyn and I baked turned out perfect,” Roxie said now, squeezing his hands and coaxing his attention back to the present. “It’s not the gingerbread I’m worried about, Daddy. It’s that I have to put it all together in front of everyone.”
The applause of the crowd died down as Carol Belle began listing guidelines for the day’s contest from her position center stage.
Nate lifted his hands and squeezed Roxie’s shoulders. “You’ll be great, sweetheart. You don’t have anything to worry about. There’s no right or wrong in this. Just do your best.”
Roxie glanced at the long tables lined up in the center of town square. “I know. But there’s so many people. What if I drop something? Or break it?”
“That’s okay,” Nate said, smiling. “You don’t have to be perfect, Roxie. The only thing that’s important today is that you have fun.”
“Really?” Roxie asked.
“Really. But I don’t want you to force yourself to participate. If you really and truly don’t want to take part in the contest, you don’t have to.”
“No.” Roxie lifted her chin and firmed her mouth. “I want to. I want to win for you and Uncle Tucker.”
Nate smiled. “That’s my girl. And win or lose, we’ll still be proud of you.”
“All right, everyone,” Carol Belle announced from the stage. “Please take your places, and when you hear the whistle, begin building your gingerbread houses.”
The crowds parted and several people hurried over to the tables. Each participant began unloading sheets of gingerbread, bags of icing, and baskets of edible decorations.
“It’s time,” Nate said, standing. “You need to carry over your things and get set up if you’re going to take part.”
Roxie lifted her chin higher, took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”
With that, she picked up her bags and walked over to the tables, choosing the one Nate had pointed out to her. She placed her gingerbread on the table and glanced down at the other contestants who’d lined up along the tables to her right, each one of them busily arranging their ingredients. Her eyes widened at the sight of the elaborate designs others had brought.
“How’s she doing?” Tucker, who’d sauntered off minutes earlier in search of a candy apple, joined Nate on the sidelines, pausing between biting chunks of his apple to ask, “She decided to go through with it?”
Nate nodded. “But she’s not exactly thrilled about putting together a gingerbread house in front of everyone.” He smiled gently. “She’s got a bit of stage fright.”
“That’s to be expected,” Tucker said. “No one likes to be in front of a crowd of people.”
“Except for you?” Nate asked with a grin.
Tucker lifted one eyebrow. “Only when I’m on a bull. Then I don’t mind it.”
“Well, she’s not on a bull.” Nate sighed. “And she’s on her own up there. Her hands are shaking. See?”
Sure enough, when Roxie placed her bags of icing on top of the table, her hands trembled.
Just then, a familiar black-haired girl strutted in front of Roxie’s table, pausing briefly to eye the sheets of gingerbread on the table in front of Roxie with disdain.
“Oh, no,” Nate groaned.
“What?” Tucker craned his neck, glancing at Roxie’s table. “Is that mean old Angelina Stone bugging her?”
“Tucker,” Nate chastised. “You shouldn’t talk about a little girl that way.”
“That little girl,” Tucker said, pointing at Angelina Stone, “tripped me, then kicked me in the gut two years ago during the Terrible Tinsel Triathlon. And she was only six years old back then—same age as Roxie is now. If that don’t warrant being called mean, I don’t know what does!”
Nate watched as Angelina Stone rolled her eyes and plopped her ingredients on a table near Roxie. “Looks like Angelina’s trying to psych our baby girl out a little bit.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Tucker chewed a bit of apple. “That kid right there,” he said around the apple in his mouth, “she’s a little hellion.”
Roxie looked up from her gingerbread then, her eyes searching the crowd frantically, widening with fear as they met Nate’s.
“Oh, man,” he said. “Looks like she’s about to cave. I might have to—”
But then, Jordyn strolled up, set a few bags on the table next to Roxie and smiled down at her.
Roxie perked up immediately, spinning toward Jordyn, throwing her arms around her waist and hugging her tight. Jordyn hugged her back, squatted down beside Roxie and whispered in her ear. Moments later, Roxie, smiling, nodded and returned her attention to her own table, unpacking the rest of her ingredients with a steady, confident hand.
“Would you look at that?” Tucker laughed. “Ms. Jordyn to the rescue!”
Nate smiled, his eyes meeting Jordyn’s across the crowd. Recalling her words to him when he’d helped her during the Snowman Fight, he lifted his chin and mouthed thank you .
Her smile widened and she winked at him before turning her attention back to the table in front of her.
Soon after, the contest officially began at the peal of Carol Belle’s whistle.
Participants began frantically assembling their gingerbread houses, standing up sheets of gingerbread and gluing walls together with icing. Roofs were added next, then decorative doors and shutters made of icing, then more decorations to make each house unique.
Five minutes before time was called, over three-quarters of the contestants’ houses had broken, one or more sheets of gingerbread crumbling beneath their hands or accidentally snapping under the pressure of their movements. Most participants took it in stride, laughing at the destruction, breaking off pieces of their broken houses and popping them into their mouths, enjoying the spicy sweet gingerbread.
By the time the last sixty seconds of the contest arrived, there were only three gingerbread houses left standing: Angelina Stone’s, Jordyn’s, and Roxie’s. All three were well constructed and each had impressive decorations, but Jordyn’s stood out—the complex decorations she’d added with icing outmatching the skill of the two little girls on either side of her. It was clear she was in position to take the win.
Chuckling, Tucker clapped a hand on Nate’s back. “Looks like our new neighbor’s gonna win again. Just another loss we can chalk up for the team.”
Nate grinned. “She earned it, fair and square. And Roxie still did a fantastic job.”
And she had. Even Jordyn seemed to notice how well Roxie had done as she eyed the gingerbread house sitting in front of the little girl. Then Jordyn returned her attention to her own gingerbread house, picked up a gumdrop, placed it on the seam of the roof, and at the last second before time was called, pressed it down hard, causing the entire gingerbread house to split into pieces and crumble onto the table.
Groans and shouts of disappointment rose from the onlookers in the crowd, but Jordyn just smiled and shrugged, picked up a broken piece of gingerbread and took a bite, issuing a sound of enjoyment as she sampled it.
“Well, how about that?” Tucker drawled, having seen exactly what Nate had.
“She wanted Roxie to have a shot at the win,” Nate said softly, his gaze finding Jordyn’s again.
Smiling back at him, she wiggled her eyebrows flirtatiously and popped another piece of gingerbread in her mouth.
Carol Belle’s whistle echoed across the town square again.
“All right, folks!” she shouted. “Time’s up. Step away from your gingerbread houses.”
Roxie and Angelina Stone, the only two contestants with gingerbread houses still standing, stepped back from their tables and waited anxiously as a pair of judges sauntered over, bent close to each house and scribbled notes on a piece of paper they held.
Shortly thereafter, the judges returned to the stage and handed the papers to Carol Belle, who returned to the microphone and smiled.
“We have a unanimous winner for this year’s Gingerbread Architect contest,” Carol Belle announced. “Noel’s newest Gingerbread Architect is Roxanna Reed!”
Roxie, surprised by her name being called, squealed then jumped with joy. Her whole expression lit up at the energetic applause from the crowd and she spun around and hugged Jordyn again, a look of pure bliss crossing her face.
Nate stood there, watching as Jordyn hugged Roxie closer and smiled down at her affectionately. Even as the crowd began milling around him, Nate remained perfectly still, savoring the beautiful—and unexpected—moment.