3. Kyla
Chapter Three
KYLA
“Fresh paint. Fresh start…” I wink at Tiffany, who’s curled up in her basket under the counter. She half-opens one eye and then closes it.
Where do I know that expression from? Trailing my fingers along the wall, I imagine some framed pictures and maybe a noticeboard.
I shiver when it hits me. My ex, Trevor, said that the day he painted his new place in Pinebury. Not long after, I found out he’d left Tiffany behind at his old place. Abandoned her like some broken old piece of furniture. I rescued her and she’s been with me ever since. He’d tried to get me to move in with him, but I already knew that he wasn’t right for me. I spent months avoiding him, until my great-aunt’s inheritance gave me a chance to make a fresh start here.
Now, standing in my almost-ready bakery, the memory feels like a sucker punch. I push it away, focusing instead on my opening day checklist.
The display cases are gleaming. The kitchen is spotless, and everything is prepped for tomorrow's first batch of cookies. After hours of test baking, Cookie Corner smells amazing: a mixture of warm vanilla, cinnamon, toasted almonds,and chocolate chips.
As I review my supplies for the final time, I spot the envelope. It's partially tucked under the front door. Likely just another welcoming note from a nearby business. But when I open it, acid rises in my throat.
Can't wait to try your red-frosted cookies tomorrow! An admirer
This must be a weird coincidence. The fact that those were my ex’s favorite cookies means nothing. Trevor's back in Pinebury, running his construction business. He has absolutely no idea where I am, and I'd like to keep it that way. The past can stay where it belongs. Far behind me.
But as I head to the kitchen to do one final inventory check, I can't quite shake the feeling that someone's watching through the bay windows. I find myself reaching for my phone, tempted to text Zander. But what would I say? That I'm spooked by a random note about red-frosted cookies?
As evening falls, I take a long bubble bath and get ready for my date. My little apartment above Cookie Corner is a mess of clothes. I've changed three times already.
The knock at my door makes my heart thud faster. I open the door, and the way Zander’s eyes light up makes me forget all about mysterious notes.
“Hi. I saw these and thought of you.” The bouquet he hands me is simple but beautiful; white daisies mixed with pink roses and sprigs of lavender.
“They're lovely. Let me just put them in water. Sorry about the mess. I've been a little focused on getting the shop ready.”
“Nervous about tomorrow?”
“Terrified! What if no one comes? What if everyone comes and they hate it? What if?—”
“What if,” he cuts in gently, “you're about to knock everyone's socks off with those red-frosted cookies I keep hearing about?”
My hand freezes on my coat buttons. “Where did you hear about those?”
“Your aunt mentioned them when I stopped by The Candy Cabin earlier to pick up some stuff for the firehouse. Said they were going to be one of your signature items?” His brow furrows. “You okay, Kyla? You went pale there for a second.”
I smile. “Just opening day jitters. The red-frosted ones are... an old recipe. I wasn't sure if I was going to include them or not.”
Once we’re at the restaurant, a tiny woman with steel-gray hair pulled into a bun rushes over. “Zander! And this must be the new baker everyone's talking about.”
“Mrs. Rossi, this is Kyla,” Zander says, helping me out of my coat.
“Come, come. I have the perfect table. Very romantic.” She smiles at me and leads us to a cozy corner booth, tucked away from the main dining room. As we slide in, Zander positions himself where he can see both the door and most of the restaurant.
After she bustles away, Zander shakes his head, grinning. “She’s been trying to get me to bring a date here since I moved to Snowflake Falls.”
"Should I be worried about Mrs. Rossi spreading rumors about us through town?"
“Probably too late for that.” He opens his menu, but his eyes are on me. “Small town, remember? By tomorrow morning, half of Snowflake Falls will know we had dinner here.”
“And the other half?”
“Already knew after I took your cookies back to the station. My crew isn't exactly subtle.” He pauses. “Does that bother you? The small-town gossip thing?”
“Actually, no. It's... kind of nice. Where I lived before, nobody really knew their neighbors. Everyone was too busy trying to get ahead, make connections, climb some invisible ladder.”
“Pinebury, right?” When I nod, he continues carefully, “Must have been a big change, moving to such a small town.”
I focus on the menu. “Sometimes big changes are good. Necessary."
Before he can respond, Mrs. Rossi returns with a basket of garlic bread. As we share the basket, conversation flows easily. Zander tells me stories about growing up as the youngest of six brothers, and I share memories of growing up in Pinebury before my parents moved to Canada. As an only child, I’m envious of his big, happy family. I guess I’ve gotten used to taking care of myself.
It's nice, this give and take. The way he listens, really listens, leaning in slightly when I talk. The way his hand brushes mine when we both reach for bread at the same time. The way he makes me laugh without trying too hard. But maybe all this has to be too good to be true. Maybe he flirts like this with all the girls he rescues?
“Share a tiramisu?” Zander asks, but I glance at my watch and wince.
“I should probably get back. Early morning tomorrow.”
He immediately signals for the check. “Of course. Big day.”
Outside, the temperature has dropped and I shiver. Zander wraps his scarf around my neck before I can protest, his fingers lingering for just a moment against my skin as an electric tingle zips down to my core.
“Can't have our newest baker catching a cold before opening day,” he says softly.
As we walk back toward my apartment, snow starts to fall again.
At my door, I start to unwind his scarf, but he catches my hand. “Keep it. You can return it tomorrow when I stop by for my cookie fix after work tomorrow.”
His thumb traces small circles on my palm, and I forget all about mysterious notes and tomorrow's worries. “Kyla…”
His fingers reach down to stroke my jaw and my heart thumps in my chest. When he kisses me, his lips are warm against mine, and I moan. His hand cups my cheek, and I lean into him, his strong arms wrapping around my waist. His big body is warm, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. My nipples are hard points, rubbing against my sweater as my breath comes hard and fast.
I break apart from him, snowflakes dancing around us. Zander’s eyes are dark with something that makes my breath catch.
“Goodnight, gorgeous. Good luck tomorrow.”
He holds the door open for me, then waves and walks away through the snow, his scarf still warm around my neck. I bury my face in it, breathing in his wood-and-musk scent. I’d sworn not to get involved with anyone when I moved here, but there’s something different about Zander. Something that feels like security.
And hope.