Chapter 12
CHARLOTTE
“What’s this?” Kez’s face lights up with a smile when she enters the kitchen, Ember trotting beside her from their afternoon training session. Thankfully, for my panties’ sake, Kez is wearing jeans and a green sweater, not her uniform.
I glance up from the kitchen island and pull my hands from the pile of cookie dough I’m kneading. “Sugar cookies. There’s some finger foods as well. I thought we could use some holiday cheer. All we’re missing is wine for later.”
“That’s an easy fix. I’ll handle that.” She studies the three bowls of green, red and white icing next to a pile of cookie cutters, then she scans the holiday cheese board sitting on the marble countertop.
“This looks incredible. And you made the cookies from scratch? Who is this Charlotte Harrington?”
“I’ve learned a thing or two over the years, Officer.
” I wink at her wide eyed expression. The old version of me that Kez knew would avoid cooking altogether.
I was so bad, I burned water. That changed when Rory dragged me to cooking classes in every new city because she didn’t want to attend them alone.
Would Kez enjoy me making her a nice dinner one day?
She approaches, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across her face. “Care to show me exactly what you’ve learned?”
“I’d love to.” With flour covered fingers, I pinch the front of her shirt and pull until our lips meet. She tightens her arms around my waist and deepens the kiss. Our tongues dance together, increasing in an urgency that tells me this kitchen isn’t cursed after all.
Then the oven beeps.
A needy groan falls from our lips.
“Let’s continue this later. Oven’s ready,” I say with a promise to deliver. I hand her a rolling pin. “Time to cut out the cookies.”
She pecks my lips and pops a piece of smoked gouda into her mouth. “I’ll go get the wine first.”
Ember follows Kez to the wine cellar, and they’re gone for a few minutes. Kez returns to the kitchen, a bottle of my favorite merlot from Elixir Wines in each hand. She holds up her arms. “For later. Let me know when you’re ready.”
I turn to look at the oven clock, wait until a minute passes, then I tilt my head, a toothy grin on my face. “It’s later.”
She laughs and fills two wine glasses to the brim, then adds the rest into a Dutch oven. Then she adds orange slices and cinnamon sticks. “Now, we have our daily serving of fruit checked off,” she says.
“I love the way you think.”
We sit side by side, rolling out dough on the floured marble, stealing sips of wine when we can until there are two thin sheets.
Kez picks up the Christmas tree cookie cutter and presses it into the dough. “It’s been years since I’ve made these. The last time was with you and Clara.”
“Those days were fun.” I smile at the childhood memory and leave out the part that I never stopped our sugar cookie tradition, even if they had. I meticulously pull the candy cane shape from the rest of the dough. “Your mom would make a giant pot of hot chocolate while we decorated them.”
“Someone would eat half the icing before we even started.” Kez reaches for the snowflake cookie cutter.
We share a teasing grin, then simultaneously blurt out, “Clara.”
Laughter echoes throughout the kitchen as we continue cutting shapes while Ember watches intently from the other room. As we drift into a comfortable silence, the mention of our old childhood friend still lingers in my mind, making me think back to my wedding day.
When Clara found me in the alley, tears streaming down my face, makeup ruined and in complete shambles, she didn’t ask questions.
Not an ounce of judgement in her eyes, only comfort and care when I needed it the most. She brought me back upstairs, and in less than thirty minutes, I was walking down the aisle like nothing had happened.
Then I blamed being a busy newlywed for not trying to work things out between us.
My gaze drops to the sheet pan lined with unbaked cookies, and guilt tugs at my chest. Clara was always there for us growing up.
Meanwhile, Kez and I built a second universe she was never invited into.
Instead of friendship, we offered lies, inside jokes she wasn’t part of and a front row seat to a relationship she never had the opportunity to understand.
Regardless of the fact that it was unintentional, we hurt Clara and lost her in the process.
Romantic breakups hurt like hell, but losing a best friend is a different kind of heartbreak that never goes away.
I finally break the silence. “I think we should apologize to Clara.”
Kez halts her movements. “Where’d that come from?”
“Just sitting here thinking. I can respect if she doesn’t want to be in my life afterward, but I’m not proud of how I treated her. How we treated her. Clara should know that.”
She’s quiet for a minute, then meets my eyes, her lips turned downward. “You’re right. We really weren’t good friends to her. I tried to apologize, but I feel like I only made it worse.”
“We can do it together if you’d like. After the holidays.”
She nods, accepting my offer. “We’re going to need a lot more cookies, though.”
I let out a small laugh. “Yes, we are.”
We quietly continue working until two sheet pans are lined with cookies.
Thankfully, Kez changes the subject. She reaches for something sitting on the floor by her feet, then puts a dusty box in front of me. “I almost forgot. Look what else I found.”
I study the faded letters. “A gingerbread house? This thing expired five years ago.”
“Maybe the seller bought it and kept saying they’d build one, but never did.” She beams a smile. “Want to put it together?”
I give her a look and open my mouth to decline, but she’s already opening the box.
“Of course, we won’t eat it. The gingerbread is probably stale as bricks, which means it’ll actually hold together.” Her puppy dog eyes are on full display. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Since being a Scrooge wasn’t on my to-do list today, I hold out my hand for the instructions.
A small rustle pulls my attention toward the floor to find Ember, who somehow snuck closer, watching us with wide, hopeful eyes.
Kez glances at Ember, then at the empty chair beside her. She stands, scoops the puppy up, and places her gently on the seat. “Now you can watch, but that’s it. No stealing.”
Ember’s tail wags as she settles into the chair, perfectly still, her eyes locked on the gingerbread.
I pet her head, and she doesn’t flinch. My brows quirk upward. “She’s actually behaving.”
“Christmas miracles do happen.”
A miracle is what I need. My stomach knots at the thought of our cabin debacle and losing Kez all over again.
As fun as playing house is, I know this moment won’t last. Plus, my heart won’t survive if Kez pushes me away again, the way she did when life didn’t go as planned.
Surrendering to the present, I peck her lips and pick up a gingerbread wall. “How do you want to start?”
Once the cookies are cooled and the gingerbread house is standing, we step back and tilt our heads. Our faces scrunch as we examine our work. The walls are crooked. The roof sags to the right. Kez’s side, of course. Globs of icing replace what should’ve been cute tiny square windows.
“She’s a little…wobbly, but I think she’ll make it.” I slap my hand against Kez’s for a high five.
She makes a contemplative noise. “Not bad for a fossil. At least she’s all in one piece.”
Then, a gumdrop falls from the roof onto the table. We crack up laughing.
Kez wipes her hands on a towel, then walks to the refrigerator. “Give me one second. I need to take something outside.”
Confused, I watch her fill a plate with berries, apple slices, carrots, and some leftover deli turkey from lunch yesterday.
“My dad used to set out food for the animals.” She smiles to herself, a hand wrapped around the piece of jewelry dangling from her necklace. “He always said no one should go hungry, especially near Christmas. Not even the raccoons.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “That’s really sweet.”
“It’s silly, I know.”
I shake my head. “Not one bit.”
She pauses at the sliding doors and peers back at me, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Want to help?”
I slide into my jacket, then follow her outside. The cold air stings my face, but Kez’s warmth beside me makes this trip bearable. She sets the plate under a massive pine tree near the edge of the property line, where the snow isn’t as deep.
“Sometimes we’d see this family of raccoons,” she says, brushing snow off her hands. “Maybe they’re still around. Who knows.”
“I think your dad would be happy seeing you continuing his tradition.” I take her hand into mine, appreciating being able to share this moment with her. “He’d be very proud of you.”
She clears her throat. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot.”
We stand there for a moment, just breathing in the winter air, before returning back inside.
Back in the kitchen, I fill our mugs with mulled wine and take in the scent of orange and cinnamon. I set down small bowls of holiday sprinkles, crushed candy cane, and edible glitter next to the cooling racks and bags of icing.
Kez side eyes me suspiciously. “What are you up to, Harrington?”
“Cookie decorating competition, obviously.” I fix my fallen sweater sleeve.
“Half the cookies each. One judge. Ember doesn’t count.
” I flash a smile at the adorable puppy still sitting in the chair like an angel.
Is this the same dog I know? “How about the winner gets bragging rights for the Holiday Cabin Showdown and picks tonight’s movie? ”
She pecks my lips. “And lots of kisses?”