Chapter Seven
Seven
T he following afternoon, Willow’s fingertips danced over the laptop keyboard while she sat on the bar stool at the bar. Her gaze never wavered from the screen, where festive fonts bloomed against a backdrop of deep reds and greens, like holly berries nestled in their leaves. She adjusted the layout with painstaking precision, aligning each element of the Christmas cocktail flyer.
The lunchtime rush had dwindled to a gentle hum, leaving behind a few patrons who lingered over their drinks, their murmurs weaving around her. Charly was out at the bank. Aubrey was in the kitchen, coming up with another cocktail to add to their Christmas menu. Willow let out a slow breath, still not happy with the design, no matter how many changes she’d made. Maybe she just needed a break away from the project.
“Willow,” came a voice, rich with genuine excitement, behind her.
She turned, her concentration shattering at the sight of Amie approaching. The corners of Amie’s lips curled into a radiant smile, one that reached her eyes and made them sparkle. A far different look than Willow had seen when she’d first met her.
“Hi, Amie,” Willow smiled in return.
Amie took the stool next to Willow, her gaze glued to the monitor. “Damn, did you make that? Looks good.”
“Thanks,” Willow said. Maybe someone not in marketing might approve, but Willow knew it wasn’t quite right. “We’re featuring new holiday cocktails every week over the holidays. This will come out next week.”
“Ooh, tell me about it,” Amie said, rubbing her hands together.
“I’ve named it ‘Winter’s Embrace,’” Willow explained. “It’s a white chocolate cocktail Aubrey came up with. It’s got rum, white chocolate, nutmeg and vanilla. She said she wanted to create something that felt like a Christmas hug in a glass.”
“Sounds delicious! I will be the first one to gobble it right up,” Amie said with a laugh. She shifted on her stool. “So.” She paused, an impish glint in her eye. “I heard from a little birdie that you are dating Eli Cole.” She leaned forward. “Is it true?”
A hesitation snagged at Willow’s heartbeat, a quick stutter before it resumed its rhythm. She did not want to lie to Amie. Especially after Amie’s past, but in this case, she knew she had to think of herself right now. “We’re taking things slow,” she said finally, hoping that was not too much of a lie.
“Slow is good,” Amie agreed with a nod. “He’s a good guy from what my friend has told me. She went to high school with him. Kinda a lone wolf, is what I’ve heard, but if anyone is going to be good for a guy like that, it’s you.”
“Thanks,” Willow said with a smile. Wanting off this subject, and onto matters that had nothing to do with her, she asked, “How are things with you? Any word from Buck?”
Amie shook her head, her smile fading. “Thankfully, no. He’s respecting the restraining order.”
“Good,” Willow said with relief. “That’s good.”
“Extremely,” Amie said with a long sigh and a slow nod. “It’s been nice having the quiet in the house. I don’t jump at every little thing now. It just feels...calm.”
Willow understood that wholeheartedly. “Peace is a wonderful thing.”
Amie agreed with a nod. “All right, enough about all that, there is a reason I came here,” Amie said, her voice upbeat again. “What do you think about gingerbread houses?”
“Building them, eating them...?” Willow asked with a laugh.
“Decorating them, actually. Tonight there is a gingerbread decorating event that I’m going to with a friend. Starts at seven o’clock at the Summit Sweets Bakery. It’s twenty-five bucks each. Could be fun, don’t you think?”
Willow was momentarily touched that Amie wanted to spend more time with her, and she was glad for it. She liked Amie too. Guilt began to set in that she was taking time off work to play this charade, but both Charly and Aubrey new it was necessary for the sake of their plan. She promised herself that she would make it up to them later, as she planned on heading back to the bar after the event was over. “Sounds like a blast.” An idea sparked. Eli had done his part to play into the fake relationship. She needed to do her part too. “Do you mind if I invite Eli?”
“Not at all,” Amie said, waggling her eyebrows. “The more the merrier.”
“Great.” Willow grabbed her cell from the bar and fired off a text to Eli.
Interested in coming with me tonight to a gingerbread house decorating event at Summit Sweets Bakery at 7?
The reply came quicker than expected, a ding from her phone slicing through the air.
I’ll be there.
“Looks like we’re all set, then,” Willow said to Amie, a little surprised that Eli would want to take part in such an event, but figured he’d do so for the show. To protect her.
“Fantastic! It’s going to be so much fun.” Amie grinned, sliding off the stool. “Maybe after we’re all done, you could display the gingerbread house here at the bar. It’d be such a cute decoration.”
Willow snorted. “I don’t know about Eli’s gingerbread-making skills, but I’m not exactly confident it’ll be worthy of showing it off.”
“Oh, hush,” Amie said, heading for the door, waving her off. “You’re going to kill it.”
Willow wasn’t fully convinced by Amie’s words. “Amie,” she called out.
Amie opened the front door and turned, glancing back at Willow. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Just wanted to say thank you for inviting us out tonight,” Willow said, forcing a smile. “I really do appreciate it.”
Amie returned her smile. “You know you’re always welcome, Willow. I appreciate you too.”
Willow kept her smile in place until Amie left, then let it fade as she looked back at the flyer. She still couldn’t stand it. Damn.
Minutes before seven o’clock, Eli approached Summit Sweets Bakery, the familiar scent of sugar and spice wafting into the brisk Montana air. His heart, a wild drum in his chest, hammered with an intensity that matched the quickening pace of his steps. Willow was already there, her silhouette framed by the quaint shop front, looking every bit as beautiful as always.
“Willow,” he called out.
She turned toward him, and the sight of her eyes brightening upon seeing him sent a jolt through his veins. It was supposed to be a fake date, a ruse, but something about the way she looked at him right now felt disarmingly real.
He took in her soft smile, the subtle shift of her gaze over him and her cheeks pinkened. He’d made an effort today—shower, clean shave and a new pair of jeans paired with a simple T-shirt under his winter jacket that hopefully said casual but cared enough to try. Her eyes lingered just a moment too long, betraying the lines of their pretense.
“Shall we?” She gestured toward the bakery door.
“Lead the way,” he said, opening the door for her.
Inside Summit Sweets, the air hummed with energy—a hive of women and men sharing laughter. The scent of gingerbread and frosting mingled in the air.
Eli’s gaze caught on a familiar face who he knew from around town, and Amie waved them forward. “Hi, guys!”
“Hey,” Eli said.
Beside Amie, a woman with light blue eyes and long dark hair stepped forward. “This is Jillian,” Amie introduced.
“Jillian Summers, right?” Eli asked.
“Guilty,” Jillian admitted, a mischievous glint playing in her eyes. “Eli Cole, lab partner for twelfth grade chemistry.”
“That’s right,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” Jillian smiled.
“Good evening,” a woman suddenly called, silencing the crowd. “Please find yourself a spot at one of the tables and we’ll get started.”
“We’ve got this in the bag,” Amie said to Jillian, who laughed following her toward the one free table that had two gingerbread stations set up.
“Ready?” Eli asked Willow.
“Let’s do this,” Willow said with a grin, moving toward the table.
The timer was set, an hour and a half, to create a gingerbread house. Eli’s hands, more accustomed to the roughness of ropes and reins, fumbled with the delicate pieces of gingerbread. The walls of the miniature house leaned precariously, threatening to collapse at any moment. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at how terrible he was at this.
“Here, let me help.” Willow’s voice was soft against the backdrop of festive chatter. Her fingers brushed against his as she steadied a wall, her touch light but electric.
“Guess I’m better with horses than baked goods,” he admitted, his voice low and tinged with laughter.
The corner of her mouth twitched upward, that hint of a smile like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Everyone has their strengths,” she countered, guiding his hand to pipe a line of frosting along the edge. “But you’re doing just fine.”
From the corner of his eye, Eli caught Amie and Jillian watching them. The two women exchanged knowing looks, their smiles soft.
“Looks like you’ve got quite the team here,” Jillian commented, her voice carrying over the bakery.
“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Amie chimed in, her gaze still fixed on Eli and Willow.
“Or at least a gingerbread house that stands up straight,” Willow added, her laughter mingling with Eli’s as the final piece slotted into place, the house finally structurally sound.
Minutes turned into an hour, and soon the plain house morphed into gingerbread perfection, as Eli watched Willow add a decorative touch to their gingerbread house—a tiny icing-covered hoof print above the door.
“Perfect,” he said.
“It’ll do,” Willow said with a nod.
Eli kept on adding the circular candies that looked like pearls to the top of the gingerbread house like Willow had instructed him. He liked this, being with her in public, regardless of if it was real or not. He’d thought on Sally’s suggestion about the rodeo more and knew he couldn’t pass up the chance at winning that money. A large donation for the shelter. Willow was doing her part, and he wanted to do his. “So, I’m doing a thing tomorrow and wondered if you’d want to come.”
Willow’s brow lifted, her hands covered in icing as she froze with the piping bag in her hand. “What is it?”
“I’m going back to the rodeo tomorrow night,” he said, watching her expression closely.
He liked the worry he found there. “Rodeo? You mean bull riding?”
“Yeah, but not for the reasons I used to go in the ring.” Eli took a deep breath, placed another candy on the roof of the gingerbread house. “When I talked with Sally, she told me about the local rodeo where you could win five grand. Figured I could add to the donation to Haley’s Place if I claim the prize.” He smirked. “Which, of course, is not guaranteed. I could hit the dirt and fast.”
Willow’s eyes softened. “As long as you won’t get hurt, that’s an amazing thing for you to do.”
“Then you’ll come and cheer me on?”
He watched the emotions play across Willow’s face, the earnest concern in her eyes giving way to something warmer. The bakery, with its sugary scents and cozy warmth, seemed to shrink around them.
“Rodeo isn’t exactly my scene,” Willow began, her voice carrying a lilt of amusement. “But I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Even if it means trading bar stools for bleachers and cocktails for dust?” Eli teased playfully.
“It’s nice to get a little dirty every now and then,” she retorted with a smirk. Until she blushed as it dawned on her what she had said. “Er—I didn’t mean it like that...”
He raised an eyebrow.
Rolling her eyes, she tried to change the subject. “Let’s just focus on building this gingerbread house, okay?”
He chuckled in response, a low rumble. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”