Chapter 8
Noelle
Spence had been right about me. I was not fit to be in public.
I asked questions like a three-year-old who could get away with it by being cute and clueless.
And I wasn’t that clueless. I had to learn to edit myself, especially when it came to my feelings about elbow patches or the men wearing them.
Fredrik hung on to the door for a long beat before following me inside. What was the big deal about going to a bakery? He must have been a regular here. These people saw him every day.
But as I felt the questioning gazes burning holes through my winter clothes, it hit me. They’d never seen him with someone like me. I stuck out like a clown at a funeral in my pink beret, fluffy peach coat, and olive-green overalls. Even my boots were purple.
I couldn’t resist color. Sometimes the combinations worked.
Other times, it was too much. Either way, colors made me happy.
After a year on the ocean, stuck in a boring navy-blue uniform, I was desperate to be me.
Maybe I needed something more understated this Christmas.
I was here to hide, not draw attention to myself.
Making Whoopie wasn’t understated, though. I’d already fallen for the deep red facade and bright blue door. Inside, the checkered floor tiles and cheerful blue counter made me inexplicably happy.
The young woman behind the counter smiled as the line moved along. She had a topknot with wild flyaway hairs, flour on her cheek, and fantastically expressive eyes. Her gaze flicked between Fredrik and me as she worked to keep the line moving.
I read the specials on the board:
A Fireside Threesome: S’mores-inspired graham, triple fudge, and toasted marshmallow cakes with hot cocoa ganache and cinnamon spark.
“Oh my God. Sold!” I nudged Fredrik’s arm. “Can you share that with me? I want to try everything!”
“Teddy!”
I didn’t see the huge guy in a biker jacket before he crashed into Fredrik, giving him a bear hug that nearly knocked him over.
Fredrik regained his balance, surprisingly unbothered. “Are you drunk? It’s not even noon.”
The guy ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair and grinned. “No! I’m just expressive with my love.”
“Did he just call you Teddy?” I asked. “I thought you didn’t do nicknames?”
Fredrik sighed. “Some people choose to ignore my preferences. One of them is Jackson.” He turned to his friend. “Meet Noelle. She’s running a new Christmas shop on Hideaway Ave.”
There was affection in his voice beneath the scorn. Jackson had earned his nicknaming rights.
“Lovely to meet you, Jackson.” I offered my hand, but he spread his arms wide. I gave a startled shrug, which he took as consent, squeezing me so tight my boots lifted off the floor.
“So good to meet you, Noelle,” he whispered into my ear.
I laughed breathlessly, grabbing the glass cabinet of pies to stay upright.
“Don’t even think about it.” Fredrik snapped his fingers in front of Jackson’s face as he kept staring at me with an exaggerated, love-drunk expression.
Jackson’s smile was gorgeous, his ice-blue eyes playful. Everything about his outfit seemed carefully chosen, from his leather boots to an expensive watch.
“But she’s so pretty,” Jackson protested, still looking at me. “And she’s dressed like a rainbow candy cane.”
My cheeks heated, and I shoved my beret into my pocket.
“Jackson. Behave.” Fredrik’s voice dropped into a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.
“Apologies.” Jackson smiled at me, dropping the act. “It’s not every day you meet a beautiful young lady… willingly spending time with our Teddy.” He elbowed Fredrik.
“What are you even doing here?” Fredrik asked.
“Three-for-one whoopie pies!” He grinned, gesturing at the cabinet.
I began to understand Fredrik’s hesitation.
He hadn’t invited me to join him. He’d offered to bring me a pie.
Big difference. I’d attached myself to him without realizing it.
I only wanted to see the town with a local guide.
Okay, maybe I wanted that guide to be Fredrik, with his signature frown and sexy elbow patches, but still.
We finally reached the counter and bought our pies: three sweet ones to split, plus chicken pastries for lunch. Before I even reached for my wallet, Fredrik had paid for everything.
“Thank you,” I said as he handed me the bags. “I’ll pay you back.”
“I’d love to check out your shop,” Jackson said as we stepped away.
“It’s not open yet. Maybe tomorrow.”
Fredrik gave me a doubtful look.
“Okay, maybe in a couple of days,” I corrected. “I tend to be overly optimistic about what I can achieve in a short time.”
“Me too!” Jackson echoed. “I thought I’d get a new floor down in one of our properties today, but… eh. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Jackson’s family renovates old houses,” Fredrik explained.
“Lovingly restores,” Jackson corrected. “We specialize in historical buildings.” He slipped me a gold-foiled business card, wiggling his eyebrows.
I stared at it. “I don’t own any historical or other—”
“She doesn’t need your services.” Fredrik plucked the card from my hand. “Her employer might, though. You should see the shoddy job they did on her shop. Remember that real estate agency on Hideaway Ave? They split it into three units. Hers doesn’t even have running water.”
“What?” Jackson looked appalled.
“They said it’s coming,” I added quickly. “They just haven’t installed the sink yet. Or the bathroom.”
I’d received an email from the shop owner explaining that I could use the library’s facilities during the day.
Clearly, he assumed I had other accommodations.
I wasn’t going to correct him, and I didn’t need anyone else to do it either.
If Jackson reported my landlord, I’d be out of both a job and a place to stay.
With our pies in hand, Fredrik made for the door but was stopped by two older ladies bombarding him with questions about his parents and the bookstore. I hung back with Jackson.
When they finally let him go, Fredrik stepped outside like he’d come up for air. I felt guilty for putting him through it.
Jackson stuffed his pies into his coat pockets and clapped Fredrik’s back. “I’ll come around later to work on the house.” He nodded at his motorcycle, then winked at me. “And I’ll see you as soon as your shop opens. I need me some tinsel.”
“Sure thing!” I grinned, watching him hop on his bike and roar off.
“If he tries to give you his number again, burn it,” Fredrik muttered. “He’s… trouble.”
I shrugged. “I do attract trouble. But he’s not my type.”
“No elbow patches?” He gave me a suspicious look, like he expected me to confess I’d been mocking him.
I blew out a sigh. “Not even one. Some people put in zero effort. It’s sad, really.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “If you ever tell him that, I want to be there. That man spends more on hair products than I spend on groceries.”
“We’ll make a night of it,” I promised. “He’ll be thoroughly scandalized.”
He laughed again, shaking his head. “We’ve known each other since kindergarten. Jackson’s always been there for me, but we live different lives. He’s a lot more outgoing. Never brings the girls home.”
His tone carried a warning.
“Don’t worry. I stick to the elbow patches and the men who never leave their homes.”
“Ouch.”
I winced. “Oh no! I was joking.”
“It’s true. I don’t go anywhere.” His voice turned bleak.
“I’m sorry I brought you here. I could have picked up the pies.” I glanced toward the café. “Actually, I’d love some coffee with mine. I’ll do that by myself, okay?”
I nodded at Love at First Sip, its pink door beckoning me. I expected him to head back to his store, but he followed and stopped at the entrance. “I’ll… wait here.”
As I stepped in, the silver-haired woman behind the counter perked up.
She was timelessly beautiful and surrounded by happy pops of color.
Candy cane earrings dangled above her pink blouse, while matching mugs lined the counter.
She quickly finished with a customer, then hurried toward me with a wide, eager smile.
“Hello! You must be Noelle! Come in! Let’s get to know you. ”
“Ye…es. How did you know?”
Her smile deepened. “Word travels fast around here. I’m Eileen, the owner.”
She walked me to a table by the window, ushering a white-haired man to the side. “Scoot, Wayne. We have a special guest.”
Wayne grunted, sliding his chair two inches over.
“I’m just here for coffee,” I said apologetically. “To go.”
“Oh no! Are you in a hurry?”
I made the mistake of glancing out the window, where Fredrik stood waiting. Eileen followed my gaze and shook her head. “That fool! What is he doing standing out there?”
I noticed several patrons had paused their conversations, sneaking glances. At least I could spare Fredrik from it.
I paid at the counter. All the drinks were named after romance heroes, so I picked a Fabio for myself and asked what Fredrik usually ordered.
Eileen bit back a smile. “I make him a special I call the Grump.”
“Sounds fitting.”
After promising to come back for a proper chat, I took the coffees and rushed outside.
“You didn’t have to bring me anything,” he said, taking the cup. “But thank you. It’s freezing.”
“Eileen knew who I was,” I said. “How would she—”
“My sister.”
“Ah.” My stomach knotted. “Is she… well connected?”
“You mean a huge gossip? Yes.”
Had she told Eileen about my past? The question burned in my mind as we walked. He guided me across the street, steadying me when a car passed.
“But… if your sister promised to keep a secret, would she?” I cringed at the words.
Fredrik studied my face, trying to read between the lines. “I don’t think she’d break a promise.”
I exhaled. “I like her.”
“So what secret did you—”
“I love staying at home, you know?” I cut in, desperate to change the subject. “I totally get that feeling of not wanting to go out and be on display. It’s draining.”
He eyed me with suspicion. “But you seem so outgoing.”