I removed the box from my pocket. It was about the size of a coaster and tied with a red bow. Lifting the lid, I pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a small tree ornament in the shape of a raccoon. Another slip of paper lay beneath the ornament, and I suppressed a grin at the slanted script.
They didn’t have any opossums. Merry Christmas from the One Who Wouldn’t Leave. P.S. Meet over by the hot chocolate stand. You’re buying.
My gaze instantly snapped to the crowd as I searched for the hot chocolate stand. Where was that thing? I followed the green cardboard cups, spotting the line that wrapped around one of the booths. Was that a spring in my step?Easy pal…I forced myself to slow down, strolling casually toward the back of the line.
“Hey, Jack.” Becky waved and held up a similar note-tied candy cane. “Let me guess, you got one of these as well?”
“What’s going on? Where’s Delia?” The line moved, and I looked over the tops of people’s heads to find her. It had been way too long, and I craved seeing her candy cane striped scarf, her wicked grin, and eyes made of pure mischief. I hoped she was wearing her new boots.
“Wait. You seriously haven’t noticed?” Becky unwrapped the plastic around her candy cane and stuck the curved end between her teeth.
“Noticed what?”
“The matchmaking. It seems Delia has gotten it in her head that you and I should be an item. I suspect Grandma Jean put her up to it or maybe Delia thought it would be a fun twist for her article. You know the Spells and Brews club are always hosting those mixers. Either way, it’s pretty obvious.”
Was that why Delia constantly pointed out Becky’s qualities? I shook my head as I saw everything in a new light. “You didn’t put a heart in my cappuccino foam, did you?”
“Nope! And I bet you didn’t write me a cute note on a napkin with your phone number.”
“I didn’t. Did you leave a box of my favorite pastry on the front porch of the inn?”
Becky smirked. “I don’t even know what your favorite pastry is.”
My head was spinning. How had I missed it? Actually, that wasn’t a hard question. I’d been so completely focused on Delia since she’d arrived, that the ground could have opened up in front of me, and I would have walked blindly into it. But it was time to set things straight. No more avoiding the subject or letting things go unsaid. If Delia wanted a twist for her article, she needed the right headline:
Lonely Tree Farmer Falls for Plucky Paranormal Writer.
“So what do we do now?” Becky asked as we worked our way to the front of the line.
“I think we should go down the rabbit hole, and teach our meddlesome traveler a lesson.”
“Oh, I like the way you think. Plus, it will be nice to have a little fun before I leave town tomorrow. Kind of like a last hurrah.”
“Leave town? Where are you headed?”
Becky’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “I was recently presented with an amazing opportunity. You know, Simon, Delia’s photographer?”
“Yeah, I’m familiar,” I said with a hint of loathing.
“Well, he not only freelances for the magazine, but he’s an experienced food photographer with a job on one of the most-watched live amateur bake-off competitions. He took one look at my creations and thought I’d be a perfect contestant. It’s already cast, but they fit me in. Filming starts in the city next week and they announce the winner on New Year’s Day. I’m going to get to spend Christmas in the city!”
“That’s incredible, Becky. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I think this could be my big break. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” She nudged me in the rib cage. “And Simon’s kind of cute, don’t you think? I like a man in a suit. Who knows what will happen once we start filming.”
I laughed. “I thought you were supposed to be attracted to me?”
Becky lifted her shoulders and crunched on her candy cane. “I’ve always had a bit of a crush on you, ever since school. But we’re not a good match. Besides, I’m pretty sure you have your eye on someone else, and I wholly approve. Be happy, Jack. You deserve it.”
Strangely enough, maybe I did. I leaned against the drink counter and pulled out my wallet. “Two hot chocolates, please.”
The vendor handed us our drinks, glanced at our candy canes, and informed us to check under the cups when we were finished. I rolled my eyes. Would Delia’s schemes never cease? But maybe that’s what I loved about her. She was eternally hopeful.
As we stepped out of line, I tipped my cardboard cup into Becky’s. “To winning your first bake-off.”
Becky winked. “And to making Delia jealous.”
I slung my arm over Becky’s shoulder and wheeled her back into the crowd.Cheers to that…
