Chapter 14
“Nothing says I’m sorry like chili cookies and a runaway otter.” ~ Parker
Parker
I stare down at the coffee tray I prepared. Is this overkill? Do I seriously need to apologize to Jeremy?
You ran away after he kissed you until your toes curled.
My toes did not curl. Okay, fine. Maybe a little bit. I blow out a breath. And I definitely ran away.
I guess I’m apologizing. And there’s no better apology than freshly brewed coffee and my Kringle Kraken Crunch – spiced cookies with a surprise swirl of chili.
I snatch the key for the loft upstairs from its spot before making my way outside to the entrance. I knock, but when no one answers, I let myself in.
Jeremy is probably working and didn’t hear me. Or maybe he ignored the knock. All the movies would have me believe software engineers are in their own little world when they’re coding.
“Hello,” I call as I knock on the door upstairs.
I nibble on my lip as I contemplate my next steps. Technically, I’m the landlady and can enter the loft, but I’m supposed to limit my entries to ‘emergencies’. Is an apology an ‘emergency’? Close enough.
“Jeremy?” I call as I enter. I set the tray down on the kitchen counter. “Are you home?”
Here I am worried I’ve upset him, and he’s not even here. I haven’t heard any gossip about where he’s at today. Did he leave the island without letting me know? I’m not merely some girl he kissed. I’m also the landlady. He should have told me if he was leaving early.
I search the area, but considering it’s an open loft, it’s not long before I realize the place is empty. Did he move out?
His laptop is nowhere to be seen, and the place feels cold and empty. My heart pounds in my chest. He left. Without saying goodbye.
Hold on, Parker. You’re overreacting.
I probably am. I make my way to the closet. Several suits are hanging up and there are two pairs of leather shoes on the floor. What does he need three suits for? He wears jeans and t-shirts most of the time.
Duh, Parker. He’s a billionaire.
What does being a billionaire have to do with anything? My gaze lands on the nightstand next to the bed. There are two watches on top of it. I step closer.
Sweet siren songs. I know these brands. I’ve seen them advertised on television. I could sell one and have enough money to pay my mortgage for a few years.
I look back at the tray of coffee and cookies I brought as an apology. Jeremy would probably laugh at this peace offering. It’s cheap and pathetic compared to his billionaire lifestyle.
I snatch the tray as I retreat from the loft. There’s no need to apologize. Jeremy probably hasn’t given our kiss a second thought since it happened. He’s a billionaire. Women throw themselves at him all the time. Including me, apparently.
I can’t believe I fell for it again. I know better than to believe a word that comes out of a billionaire’s mouth. Fooled again.
I return to the bakery and do the one thing guaranteed to make me smile. I steal Viking from Smuggler’s Cove, the restaurant next door, and bring him home.
Although I claim ownership of the adorable otter, I share him with the restaurant since it’s impossible for me to have him full-time in the bakery. And I can’t leave him in my apartment. Annie would auction him off to the highest bidder.
Viking doesn’t hesitate to jump into my arms. I cuddle him close. Animals are better than humans. Their love is truly unconditional.
I kiss Viking before placing him in his bed on the floor in the kitchen. It’s time to get some Christmas baking done. I find my Christmas playlist and switch it on.
I rub my hands together. What to make first? The choices are endless.
Yule Tide Treasures – jewel-toned sugar cookies with edible glitter.
Merry Mermaid Macaroons – coconut macaroons with blue and sea-green drizzle.
Frosted Sea Foam Swirls – mint and vanilla meringue kisses.
Snow-drift Sirens – white chocolate-dipped shortbread with sea salt flakes.
North Pole Narwhal Nibbles – sugar cookies shaped like narwhals with candy cane stripes.
Coral Cane Cookies – peppermint-flavored cookies shaped like coral.
And Gingerbeard Men – pirate versions of gingerbread men, including an eyepatch, of course.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m going to make them all.
Soon enough, the kitchen is filled with all my favorite baking scents. Sugar, spice, chocolate. Sigh. I love them all. Just ask my hips. They’ll tell you.
Holly joins me in the kitchen. “It smells incredible in here.”
“I started the Christmas baking.”
Her eyes light up with excitement. “Really? Can I help?”
“As long as you continue to serve the customers in the café.”
She bobs her head. “I can do it. I’ll run to the café whenever the bell over the door rings.”
“Okay.” I consider the cookies I’m making. Sugar cookies will be the easiest for her if she has to rush away to deal with customers. “Let me show you how to shape the Yule Tide Treasures and decorate them.”
In no time, she’s covered in as much flour as I am.
“You have flour in your hair.”
Her smile is blinding. “I don’t care. I haven’t had this much fun in forever.”
I roll my eyes. She’s nineteen. Her forever hasn’t been very long.
She nudges me. “I’m serious. What could be better than listening to Christmas music in the background while baking cookies with the scent of sugar and chocolate surrounding us?”
“Baking is the best. If you want to learn more, I’m happy to teach you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. If I can find someone to help out in the café, I’ll teach you all I know.”
“My friend, Cindy, is looking for a job.”
“I thought she worked at Mermaid Mini Golf.”
“Not enough hours in the winter.”
“Okay. If she’s willing to work for your wage, I’ll hire her.”
“Yes!” She whoops. “I’m learning how to bake.”
Her excitement warms me. Most people think baking is for old women or stay-at-home wives. It’s way more. Baked goods can brighten a person’s day. Help you celebrate a special occasion. And comfort you when you’re down.
The bell over the door rings and I nod to the café. “Get the door. We’ll discuss this more later.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
While she handles the customer, I start work on my gingerbeard men. I have plenty of gingerbread dough left over from the gingerbread house competition, so I don’t need a bunch of time to get these finished.
I’m removing the gingerbeard men from the oven when the back door opens.
“There’s no fire here. It’s a bit of smoke, is all.”
A man chuckles, and I freeze. I know that chuckle. I whirl around.
“Jeremy? What are you doing here?”
“I live above the bakery, or have you forgotten?”
I scowl. “I haven’t forgotten, but you weren’t around today. I thought you might have left.”
I ignore how those words burn through me. He didn’t leave. There’s no reason to overreact.
Because he’s not mine to overreact about. We kissed once. One whole time. Slow your roll, Parker.
“I had an appointment in New York City today.”
My eyes widen. New York City? He was here yesterday afternoon and he’s back already. How?
“You were in New York today? Did you leave last night?”
He pulls at the tie around his neck until it loosens. Holy pirates stealing their bounty. How in the world did I miss that he’s wearing a three-piece suit?
Jeremy in jeans and a t-shirt is sexy. Jeremy in a three-piece suit is out of this world sexy. The material clings to his body as if it was made for him. What am I thinking? It probably was.
He smiles and those matching dimples come out and I forget to breathe. If mermaids could walk on land, they’d be beating down my door to charm this man.
“Left this morning. Took the jet into LaGuardia and helicoptered into Manhattan.”
I blink. The Christmas music must be affecting my hearing. He did not say he helicoptered into Manhattan. A helicopter? I swallow. It’s exactly what a billionaire would do.
Good reminder. Jeremy Holland is not the man for me. It doesn’t matter how much my toes curl from his kisses. Or how my breath catches when he flashes me those dimples or how sparks ignite whenever we touch. The man is out of my league.
He steps closer and gazes down at the baking sheet. “Your gingerbread men resemble pirates.”
“Wait until I add the eyepatch.” He chuckles. “And they’re not gingerbread men. They’re gingerbeard men.”
“Of…” His eyes narrow as he trails off. “I hate to say it, Parker, but I think you have a rodent problem.” He digs his phone out of his pocket. “Shall I call an exterminator?”
I slap the phone out of his hand. “Don’t you dare call an exterminator on Viking.”
“You named your rat?”
“Why does everyone think Viking’s a rat? Do they not teach biology in high school anymore?” I kneel down. “Viking, come here and meet Jeremy.”
Jeremy inches backward. “Um, I don’t need to meet your rat.”
“I told you. Viking isn’t a rat.” Viking also isn’t coming when he’s called. I grab a gingerbeard man from the tray and break off a piece. “Viking. I have a cookie for you.”
Viking loses his shyness in zero point five seconds. He scurries out from his hiding space underneath the prepping station and rushes to me.
“AGH!” Jeremy shouts as he sprints to the back door. He fiddles with the doorknob. In his panic, he seems to have forgotten how to open a door. “Don’t let it kill me.”
I lift Viking into my arms and cuddle him. “Did you hear the silly man? He thinks you’re a killer.”
I advance toward Jeremy and his eyes nearly bug out of his face as he plasters himself to the door. “You’re as bad as Eli. Does money turn you into a wimp?”
He growls. “I’m not a wimp.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And you’re not afraid of the cutest animal in the history of animals either.”
“I’m not afraid. But I need to…” The door opens and he stumbles outside.
“If this is you not afraid, I don’t want to watch what happens when you are afraid,” I holler after him.
I shut the door behind him and burst into laughter. I guess Jeremy is human after all. Good to know.
Maybe I need to stop punishing him for being a billionaire. He’s not the billionaire who caused my heartache after all.
Maybe we can be friends.
Maybe we can kiss again.
Maybe we can be friends who kiss.
Maybe I need to stop dreaming and finish my Christmas cookies.