Chapter Ten
“Are you ready for this?” Poppy sat in her car beside Darius. It wasn’t even dawn yet. She peeked at her watch. Six forty-five. They were early, nearly fifteen minutes. Her knuckles ached from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. The camera crews had gone inside. The mayor was here, no doubt practicing his speech to open the contest.
“I’m ready. Are you?” He turned to look at her, his gaze amplifying her discomfort.
“Yes. No.” She laughed nervously. “I have no idea. I think we’ve got this. Seven hours to make a gingerbread house and decorate it. Have we bitten off more than we can chew?” She forced her fingers to relax and placed them on her thighs. She hadn’t been this nervous last year. But today, it felt like everything was riding on this competition. Like her life was on the line. Her stomach roiled with nerves and her shoulders ached with tension. She’d slept exactly two hours last night; anxiety had kept her awake.
“We’re going to be fine. We’ve done it in less time. Twice in the last few days. Honestly, Poppy, we’ve practically reached muscle memory with this, our hands will know what to do, even if our brains check out.” He reached across the console to grab her hands. He pressed her palms together and massaged the back of her hands with his, driving off the chill threatening to lock her knuckles in place.
“Look at me,” he said quietly in a tone that dared her to refuse him.
She turned toward him. “What?” she whispered, her voice shaking with nerves.
“It’s going to be okay. We can do this. You could do this alone if you had to. I believe in you, Poppy Holiday. We’re going to kick butt. Our creation, your design, is going to be epic.” He gave her hands a little shake. “Now paste a smile on your face. Don’t let the competition know you’re worried. We’ll do this. We’ll build the best darned house ever and win this. For you, for me, for your grandmother.”
She exhaled and tried to smile. “For us!” she chimed in and unexpectedly, her smile started to grow. “You’re right. We’ve put a hundred hours into this and more sugar than I care to think about. We could do this in our sleep. Let’s do this thing.”
Yanking her hands out of his, she leaped out of the car and popped open the trunk. Darius was at her side in seconds.
“Let me get that.” He reached past her and pulled out a loading dolly. It took him only seconds to load their boxes of supplies and strap them down for the short trip inside.
She watched him work, a smile on her face. He really was a great guy. Strong, helpful, compassionate and generous. All the qualities she hoped to find in a man. Not that she was looking. She snorted a little laugh.
“What’s funny?” he asked, looking up at her from where he knelt to fasten the last strap.
“Nothing. Just thinking. Life’s funny sometimes.” And she sure wasn’t going to tell him where her mind had gone.
His brow furrowed a bit as he stood. “You’re in a strange mood today. Don’t let the nerves get to you. We’ll be fine. Lock the car and let’s go.”
He strode away, she watched him go, unable to tear her eyes off him. His hair had grown even more in the last weeks, as if he didn’t had time to cut it. The shaggy look suited him, it hinted at the naughty man inside the perfectly pressed clothing. His muscles flexed under his shirt as he wheeled the dolly up the first of several steps.
He stopped and looked back at her. “Come on, Poppy. Stop staring at my butt, we’ve got work to do.” He winked and turned back to his task.
Laughing, she hurried up to him and raced past to open the door. She bowed low and made a sweeping motion with her hand. “After you, sir.”
“As you wish, my lady.” He chuckled; the deep, hearty sound smoothed down her body like warm brandy on ice cream.
“You’re in kitchen number ten,” the committee chair said, pointing them in the right direction. “One of our volunteers is waiting to check your supplies. Anything not sanctioned will be confiscated until the competition is over. We already caught one competitor with marshmallow squares.” She tsked loudly and turned her attention to her clipboard as if dismissing them.
Once they were out of earshot, Darius laughed. “The nerve. Unsanctioned marshmallow squares. What is this world coming too?” he feigned being scandalized.
His irreverence made her laugh. “Darius,” she hissed. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Well, really. What’s next? Illegal mints? Counterfeit jelly beans? The shame. I cannot believe how far this town has fallen.” His laugh rang across the room. Several people looked at him and grinned. Others frowned as if he were rudely interrupting their serious business.
When her laughter joined in, the looks doubled making them laugh even harder.
Darius slung his arm around her shoulder and pushed the dolly forward with one hand. “That’s my girl. Distract them with your joy and beautiful smile. This gig’s ours.”
“Yes, it is.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and walked beside him until they reached their designated station, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers, and the quiet chuckles still reverberating in his chest and into her heart.
This was what joy felt like. Happiness trickled through her and for a moment, she wondered if she could find happiness and love with this man. Her heart flittered out of rhythm as giddiness flowed over her. Was this love she was feeling? Now? After such a short time in his company?
She shook the thought away. Now wasn’t the time for deep, life changing thoughts. They had a contest to win.
Allison Langley, a former winner and retiree was acting as a contest assistant. She greeted them with a friendly smile. “Hi. Welcome to the Gingerbread Dreams Contest. I’ll need to unpack your supplies and look them over. Shall we get started?”
“Good to see you, Mrs. Langley,” Darius greeted her politely. “Just give me a second to unstrap this load and we’re all set.”
