Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Alex
While I’m relieved Mom and Mallory like Finley so much, I’m irritated that Mom had several tests for her.
Like clutter on the kitchen counters. She wouldn’t dream of having a cluttered kitchen with company.
And the chili. Mom knows that Shawna hated chili, and my girlfriend before her had turned her nose up at meatloaf.
Mom made chili on purpose to see if Finley was a food snob.
I scoop another bite out of my bowl and glance up to see Tyler watching Finley with suspicion. I’m not surprised given she’s the polar opposite of my previous girlfriends, but hopefully, Mom and my sister can help keep him in line.
Mom’s pleased when Finley gets a second bowl, and when she finishes that, Mom brings out a half-eaten peppermint chocolate cake on a cake stand.
Another test to see if Finley is offended. The only pleasure I’m getting out of this is knowing my mother is probably dying inside having to serve a half-eaten cake to a first-time guest.
“Sorry it’s already been cut into,” Mom says as she sets it on the table. “But I hate to see it go to waste.”
“Are you kidding?” Finley says in awe. “It looks delicious!”
The smile on my mother’s face makes it obvious Finley has not only passed but gotten extra credit.
“I suppose you get lots of baked goods working at a coffee shop,” Mallory says.
“Their cheese Danishes are really good,” I say, realizing I’ve hardly said anything during dinner.
Finley looks surprised, then says, “Alex would know about the cheese Danishes since they’re his favorite, but we don’t make them in the store. They’re prepackaged and we heat them up. And while I love all kinds of baked goods, the shop only has breakfast foods, so this is amazing.”
“You don’t bake?” Mom asks nonchalantly as she slips the knife into the cake.
Another test, which gets under my skin. Even if Finley doesn’t bake, it doesn’t make her a failure. Not all women cook and bake.
But if Finley realizes she’s being tested, she doesn’t let on. “I do, but I don’t have much free time, and besides, it’s just me and my cat. Anything I make would go to waste.”
“You don’t bake for Alex?” Mom asks innocently, keeping her eye on her task.
Finley gives me a panicked look, and I say, “She would if I wanted her to, but she knows I’ve been watching my sugar intake, so she doesn’t give me the temptation.”
“But you eat Danishes at her coffee shop,” Mallory says.
“It’s kind of our thing,” Finley says with a soft smile. “When he first started coming in, he couldn’t decide what to order, and I suggested a Danish.” She gives a small shrug. “He’s been getting them ever since.”
Mallory clasps her hands to her chest, a dreamy look filling her eyes. “That is so romantic.”
Tyler’s eyes narrow, but he stays silent.
I rack my brain, trying to remember why I even started ordering Danishes. I never ate them before Beans to Go. Did she really suggest it? I come up blank, but I suspect it’s true. Finley has a memory like a steel trap, and she said she wouldn’t lie.
Mom sets a plate with a slice of cake in front of Finley. “Guests first.”
“Thank you,” Finley says, smiling at the plate. She’s more excited than a person should be over a piece of cake.
“Did I hear you say you have two jobs?” Dad asks as Mom hands him a plate. “That’s very ambitious of you.”
“Yeah,” she says as she picks up a fork. “My mother acquired some medical debt I had to pay off, and I also take college courses part time.”
My mouth drops open. I had no idea about the debt or that she was taking college courses.
“Why do you look so surprised?” Tyler asks dryly.
He finally speaks, and of course, it’s to point out something that will prove I’m a liar.
I shake it off. “Why would I be shocked? This is me being proud.”
And I am, although I don’t have a right to be. I had no idea she was going to school in addition to working two jobs.
“How do you have time to see Alex?” Mom asks, her gaze on me.
“We have the weekends,” I say. “Plus, you know the start-up takes a lot of my time. Finley’s okay with it because she’s so busy herself.”
Mom shakes her head as she places another slice of cake on a plate and hands it to me. “You work too much.”
“We’re close to finishing,” I say, taking the plate.
Her mouth purses. “You missed Christmas last year because you were close.”
“We hit a few snags,” I admit. “But I’m here now.”
She stops cutting, mid slice, and looks up at me. “Yes, and I’m so glad you are.”
The softness on her face makes my heart melt. I’ve missed being home, and I miss my mother even more.
After everyone is served, we all take a bite and Finley moans with pleasure.
The sound shoots straight through me, and I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to be the reason she makes it.
Shit. This is not good. I cannot be reacting like this with my parents sitting less than three feet on either side. Hell, I shouldn’t be reacting at all. This is strictly platonic.
Finley gushes to my mother, “If this isn’t a treasured family recipe, I’m not leaving here without it.”
Mom laughs. “No family recipe. This was actually an experiment. Mallory and I combined two recipes.”
“Obviously a successful one,” Finley says before she slips her fork into her mouth with another bite.
I’m mesmerized by the sight of her lips wrapping around the tines, and my brain short-circuits like a blown fuse. Every rational thought I’ve ever had packs its bags and leaves town.
Think of something else. Anything else. Like old witches and scary elves.
Where is this coming from? Sure, she’s cute—no, calling Finley cute is like saying the Sistine Chapel is a nice paint job. She’s beautiful. I don’t know how I missed it before, but I’ve seen other beautiful women and kept my cool.
Maybe it’s some kind of reverse transference thing. She’s doing me a favor and charming my family, and my brain’s confusing gratitude for attraction.
Yeah, nice try. Most of me knows that’s a lie, but the small part of me that wants it to be true is screaming the loudest.
I cannot be attracted to Finley O’Brien for a whole slew of reasons, starting with the fact she’s not my type. At. All.
Right?
But the conversation’s continuing without me, and I realize Mom’s talking to Finley. “Mallory and I are doing some Christmas baking tomorrow if you’d like to help.”
Finley’s eyes light up. “I’d love to.”
“Maybe not the entire day,” I say, placing my hand over Finley’s on the table. “I plan to take her to the Christmas market.”
I have no idea where this thought came from, only that I think she’ll like it.
It has nothing to do with wanting to spend the afternoon with her—because that would be a terrible idea.
I just don’t want her going to the Christmas market on her own.
I mean, I should probably at least show her around the town before setting her loose.
“Oh, you have to go to the market,” Mallory says. “They have so many amazing things there.”
“How about we plan on baking in the morning, and you two can go to the market after lunch?” Mom suggests.
Finley looks at me, and I see that she really wants to do both, not that I’m surprised. She wants the full Christmas experience, and I suppose baking is part of that. “If that works for Finley, it works for me.”
Her face lights up with excitement, and a warm feeling builds in my chest. I’m positive if my mother had suggested baking to my previous two girlfriends, they’d be looking for excuses to get out of it.
Is that why I’ve got this warm, glowy feeling?
I’d like to blame it on alcohol, but I haven’t had a drink in days.
“Val, I think you’ve lost track of time,” Dad says. “Don’t you need to leave soon?”
My mother gasps and jumps to her feet. “Oh, my goodness, you’re right!
” She picks up her plate with her half-eaten slice of cake and takes another bite as she walks to the sink.
“The group’s smaller this year, so every person counts.
” She turns her attention to Finley. “The historical society goes caroling every year.”
“Christmas caroling?” Finley asks, practically bouncing in her seat.
“Yes.”
“We’ll join you.” I say before I can talk myself out of it. Finley wants all that Hollybrook has to offer, and you can’t get much more Christmasy than caroling.
My mother stares at me in shock.
Finley can barely contain her excitement as she turns to face me, clutching my arm. “Really? We can go caroling?”
How can something this simple make her so happy? Then I realize I like seeing her so happy. That’s probably why I offered to come. Plus, it could go a long way toward getting back into her good graces. “Full Christmas experience, right?”
She throws her arms around me and gives me a sideways hug.
Mallory jumps to her feet. “Well, if you two are going, then I’m going too.”
“What the hell is going on?” Tyler asks, staring at me like I’ve had a lobotomy. “You hate Christmas caroling.”
Finley loosens her hold on me, her smile crumpling.
I glare at my brother, then kick him under the table.
“My girl’s never had a Hollybrook Christmas and I plan to give her the full experience, which includes caroling.
” I turn to her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to let the fact it’s soft as silk distract me.
“You’ll need a coat though.” I glance up at Mallory.
“Do you have a spare coat Fin can wear? She doesn’t have one. And maybe some boots?”
“Got you covered,” she says, then reaches for Finley’s arm. “Come up to my room and we’ll get you dressed warm enough. We’ll be outside for a couple of hours, and we don’t want our Georgia peach to freeze!”
If Finley’s offended that my sister called her a Georgia peach, she doesn’t let on. She picks up her bowl and plate and starts to stand.
I reach over and take them from her. “You go get ready. I’ll take care of this.”
Gratitude fills her eyes and then she follows Mallory to the back staircase next to the kitchen.