Chapter 9 Ginger
GINGER
“Today’s been so busy. Not that it isn’t usually, but it seems even more so,” Alex, my employee, comments.
“I know. I love it.” I smile. “It could be the release of the winter coffee flavors or the chilly temperature outside.”
“No offense, but I’m glad it’s slowing down some now. My feet are killing me,” she says.
I glance at her stylish shoes. “You should wear sneakers or something comfortable. When you’re working, always choose comfort over looks.”
Alex makes a face. “I know I should, but I love these.” She turns a foot from one side to the other, admiring the black leather. “I’ve been saving up for months to buy them.”
I remember being a teenager and feeling so proud when I could buy something for myself.
“Well, they look great on you.”
“Thanks,” she replies, beaming.
“When you get to be my age, you won’t care about what’s in style anymore. You’ll wear whatever you want, and most of the time your choice will be based on what feels the most like pajamas.”
Alex wrinkles her nose. “I can’t imagine that happening to me. I love shopping and following trends.”
“Not caring about what others think is very liberating, and it makes picking out your clothes for the day much easier,” I say, winking.
She laughs. “I’m sure my mom would agree with you. She works from home and pretty much lives in pajama pants.”
“Lucky her,” I say.
A customer comes in, and Alex takes their order. I busy myself by wiping coffee drips and sugar crumbs from the long counter and then replenishing the stack of cups and lids. When I’m done, I turn around and notice Jordan standing there.
My eyebrows shoot upward. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
His lips slowly spread into that lazy grin I’ve seen a million times, yet it still elicits a reaction from me. “I was craving some muffins, so I figured, why not get the best?”
Smiling, I nod. “Damn right, they’re the best. How many would you like?”
“I’ll take a dozen so I can share them with my employees.”
I grab a box. “Which kind?”
“Four gingerbread, four blueberry, and four cranberry.”
I add them to a box, seal it shut with one of my logo stickers, and hand it over to him. “Would you like anything else?”
“A large, hot gingerbread, please.”
My lips curving with satisfaction, I spin around and move over to the machines. My thoughts wander as I prepare his coffee. Did he really come here for muffins and coffee? Or is there another reason?
Placing the lid on his cup, I deliver it to him. “Here you go.”
He smiles. “Thank you.” We stand there staring at one another until he finally asks, “What do I owe you?”
I shake my head. “Your money’s no good here.”
“Don’t even try to pull that, G.”
“I’m serious. You hung my shelves, which means free muffins and coffee for life.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. Good help is hard to find.”
He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and tucks a twenty-dollar bill in the tip jar, smirking at me.
“Grrr,” I growl. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
He reaches over the counter, gently pinching my chin between his thumb and index finger. “Why do you have to be so beautiful?”
Everything around me fades away as we stare into each other’s eyes. Then he clears his throat and drops his hand. Just like that, the moment breaks, but it still lingers in the air like the scent of coffee and gingerbread.
“Do you have time to sit for a minute?” he asks, holding up the box. “I think I should sample one now. You know, make sure they’re as good as I remember.”
I glance around the shop. Alex’s handling things fine, and my stomach leaps at the thought of spending more time with him.
“Sure.” Grabbing a napkin, I pull a muffin from the case and lead him to the small table near the corner. He settles into the chair across from me, and I set the napkin on the table and place the muffin on top.
He peels the wrapper away and takes a bite. He hums as he chews. “Still amazing.”
“Of course they are,” I say, breaking off a piece for myself.
He stretches out his long legs beneath the table, and one of his knees nudges mine.
The touch is light enough to make me wonder whether it was accidental.
I glance at him, but he’s focused on his muffin, as if nothing happened.
But then his foot bumps mine, lingering longer this time.
Part of me wants to move away, but a bigger part doesn’t.
“So,” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible. “How’s business at the shop?”
“Busy.” He swallows another bite. "And we’re prepping for the holidays, which always brings more people.”
“Do you think that’s because of all the get-togethers? Maybe your customers need help coping with seeing family.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. I find myself downing edibles whenever Reed’s around.”
I laugh. “Ha. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without your brothers.”
“That’s probably true, but don’t tell them I agreed.”
“I won’t.” I mime zipping my lips. “So with the dispensary booming during the holiday season, will you need to hire more employees?”
“Yeah, I will. I love the extra business, but it’s so fucking chaotic.”
“Hey, chaos keeps you busy and distracted.” I break off another small piece of muffin and pop it into my mouth.
“Yeah.” His eyes lift to mine. “Sometimes,” he says, his voice dropping lower.
My pulse ticks up as a charged silence stretches between us. He shifts his weight, leaning forward to brush his thumb against the corner of my mouth lightly. My breath catches.
His hand falls away, and his lips curve. “You had a crumb.”
“Oh… thanks.”
His eyes stay on mine, like he’s daring me to say more, but I don’t.
“Anyway,” I say, fidgeting with the edge of the napkin. “It’s nice you stopped by.”
One side of his lips twitches, hinting at a smile. “I like seeing you.” It takes a moment for his words to register, and when they do, my heart skips a beat. Before I can reply, he stands, reaching for the box of muffins and his cup of coffee. “I should get going.”
“Right,” I say, rising from my seat. “Thanks for coming by.”
He turns toward the door, then pauses, looking back at me. “Hey, G?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep some cranberry muffins hidden in the back for me, just in case I get the urge to stop by.”
“You’re planning to?”
He grins. “Let’s say I have a feeling I might be craving more than just muffins.” He winks and exits, pulling the door shut behind him.
I’m left standing here, wondering if I imagined half of our interaction.
There was knee nudging and foot touching.
He brushed a crumb from beside my mouth with his thumb and, in the next beat, told me he likes seeing me.
I don’t believe I’m inflating these things in my mind.
The dynamic between us has changed, and God help me, I want to see what comes next.
I stare into the firepit, watching the flames flicker and twist, trying not to notice how closely Jordan is sitting beside me on the bench. His knee keeps brushing mine—just barely, but every time it happens, my pulse stutters.
On my other side, Willow nudges my arm. “I’m glad you got caught up on your laundry so you could be here,” she says with a smirk.
I slowly blink at her. “I was happy to come.”
She laughs and bumps my shoulder. “Sure you were.”
Honestly, I am glad I came. Skipping last Saturday night’s firepit hangout felt like the right decision at the time.
Avoiding eye contact, casual touches, and a certain someone’s devastating smile seemed to be the pertinent thing to do.
But now, with the fire crackling and laughter swirling around us, I regret it.
“Who wants a s’more?” Nina asks, waving a bag of marshmallows over her head.
“I do!” Willow answers, reaching out, but Reed snatches the bag first with a smug chuckle. “Hey!” she protests.
“Sucks to be so slow,” he taunts, winking as he hands the bag off. She snags one, then passes it to me.
I take a marshmallow, but without thinking, I hand it to Jordan.
“Thanks, G,” he says, sliding it onto the end of a stick. The bag moves around the circle. “You’re not having one?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
He squints at me. “Are you feeling okay?”
“My stomach’s a little off.” Mostly from how near he’s sitting. And how amazing he smells. And how he keeps looking at me like he’s thinking things he shouldn’t.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s nothing. I drank too much coffee.” Which is technically accurate. I had four cups before noon and two more after, but the fluttering in my stomach is all from him.
“I have some gummies,” he says, nudging my elbow with his. “It might help.”
I laugh. “Yeah, they’ll fix my stomach and completely wreck my brain. Very helpful.”
He flashes a crooked grin. “That wrecked feeling? It’s definitely underrated.”
“You’re such a bad influence.”
His grin turns wolfish, spiking my heart rate.
“You have no idea.” He lowers his marshmallow toward the flames, but almost instantly holds it too close for too long.
It catches fire, flames engulfing the white area.
“Dammit!” He jerks the stick back, waving it until the blackened marshmallow extinguishes with a sorry puff of smoke.
I reach over without thinking. “Give it to me.”
He hands the stick over, eyebrow raised, as I pull off the burnt blob and toss it into the fire.
Once the bag returns to me, I grab a fresh marshmallow and push it onto the stick, angling it perfectly over the embers.
I keep it at the proper distance above the flame to achieve the perfect golden-brown shade.
“You always do this,” he murmurs, watching me.
“What?”
“Make it better.”
My heart gives a painful thump. “You’re hopeless with fire,” I tease, trying to sound normal. “You’re just impatient, always roasting it too fast.”
“What can I say? I like instant gratification.”
“Of course you do.” I pass him the stick. When our fingers meet, the air thickens and the space between us feels different. It may have been an inconsequential touch, but it lingers in all the right places.
Jordan glances down at the marshmallow, then pulls it off the stick and pops it into his mouth. “Perfect,” he says around the soft mouthful. “You always get it exactly right.”
I ignore the way that makes my stomach flip. “That’s because I know what I’m doing.”
Travis clears his throat dramatically. “Before I forget, I want to invite you all to our Christmas party two weeks from tonight.”
“But what about our firepit hangout?” Willow moans. “You couldn’t have picked another night?”
“Hey, you know we live in Maine, right?” Travis asks. “Our firepit nights are limited anyway, and we’ve been fortunate the snow and extreme cold have held off this long.”
Jordan holds up a hand. “Whoa. Wait a sec. Can we rewind to the part where Travis invited us all to a party at his house?”
“Right?” Drew asks. “I thought I was hearing things.”
“Nina, who is this imposter beside you, and what have you done with our brother?” Reed asks.
Travis shakes his head. “Don’t make me regret telling you.”
Nina laughs, looping her arm through his and snuggling closer to him. “We thought it would be fun to host a party since we both love Christmas.”
“Since when does the Grinch love Christmas?” Jordan asks, making us all laugh.
“Cut your brother some slack,” I tell Jordan. “He’s got a new reason to want to celebrate.”
“Yeah, a hot-as-fuck one,” Willow adds.
Travis nods. “I can’t argue with that.”
“I hope you all know how excited I am to be spending my first holiday season in Havenport,” Nina says. “We had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and we’re both looking forward to Christmas and also New Year’s. Hopefully, this is the first of many.”
“Hopefully?” Travis inquires. “Like I’m ever letting you go.”
“Maybe there’ll be a wedding sometime in the new year,” Willow says, waggling her eyebrows.
“There’s no rush. I’m happy with where we’re at for now,” Nina replies.
“Notice the for now,” Reed points out, trying to stir up trouble.
Willow whacks Reed’s arm. “Don’t start.”
“Oww, Will. Why are you always hitting me?” he asks.
She shrugs. “Because you’re an asshole.”
“Well, what does that say about your taste in friends?” he asks, challenging her.
Tipping her face up, she grins at him. “Obviously, my taste is shitty.”
Jordan jostles my leg with his, and I turn to look at him. He leans in, whispering, “I might be noticing something between them.”
“I told you.”
“I’m not convinced anything will evolve from it, though.”
“Oh, it will.” I have no doubt. Sooner or later, the sexual tension will be too much to ignore.
The rest of the night passes in that easy, comfortable way I’ve always loved about our group. Jokes and jabs are tossed across the fire, silly stories are shared, and the one constant is laughter.
When Travis and Nina stand and stretch, Jordan rises beside me.
“You’re heading out too?” I ask, tilting my face up to him.
“Yeah.” He pauses, looking at me like there’s something else he wants to say. Then he gives me a warm and easy smile. “Don’t forget I’m stopping by the shop tomorrow night.”
“How could I forget?” I tease, rising to my feet in front of him.
“Save me one of those cranberry muffins. A big one.”
“They’re all big.”
“Then make it one that’s sweeter than the rest.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
He grins, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brush my cheek, featherlight but intentional. “Night, G,” he murmurs, then turns and disappears into the shadows beyond the dying firelight.
Suddenly, tomorrow can’t come fast enough.