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Still, Arden had earned brownie points with the mayor for volunteering nonlocals to fill critical roles. She was hoping to sweet-talk her way into the second parking spot mentioned in our lease. I told her to save her breath, Mayor Tate had selective hearing when it came to me and my shop, but she was an optimist.
“Do you smell that?” Arden pinched me. “They’re roasting actual chestnuts on an actual open fire.”
“Hmm?”
“She’s busy undressing Asa with her mind,” Camber explained to her best friend. “I am too.”
For the first time tonight, I was grateful Colby had elected to stay home to party with her friends online.
“Okay.” I snatched a plastic holly sprig from the garland decorating the doorway. “That’s it.” I whacked Camber between the eyes. “Stop being a brat.” I swatted her shoulder. “Bad shopgirl.” Again. “Bad, bad girl.”
“Hey.” Laughter in her eyes, she danced back. “That hurts.”
“You asked for it.” Arden cackled. “You can’t cry about it now.”
“You started it.” She pointed a finger. “You offered to lick the powdered sugar off his mouth for him.”
Camber forgotten, I wheeled on Arden. “You did what?”
“He didn’t hear me.” She yelped when I smacked her. “He was already standing on the corner.”
Keen as his senses were, he’d heard her. Loud and clear. Probably chuckled to himself about it too.
Me?
I wasn’t laughing.
Thanksgiving had been a disaster.
Okay, okay, fine. Dinner hadn’t been the problem. The meal was quite delicious, if I do say so myself. Asa and Clay, however, didn’t know that firsthand. No sooner had I nailed down a mental list of bullet points on how to tempt Asa to cash in on his permission to kiss me, than a time-sensitive case hit his inbox with the thud heard ’round the world.
My world, anyway.
So, yeah, Thanksgiving had been a bust.
Two weeks later, Christmas wasn’t looking much brighter.
Let the girls fantasize about Asa’s lush mouth. I didn’t mind. At least then I would be in good company.
With a final swat to both girls’ bottoms, I returned the sprig to its garland and forced my eyes from Asa.
“We need to set out more sugar cookies.” I did a quick mental tally. “We have about two dozen left. Can you refresh the cranberry punch while you’re at it?” I aimed the question at Arden. “I’ll get the cupcakes and napkins.” Camber raised her eyebrows, waiting for her marching orders. “You can man the register.”
With a twirl that showed off her frilly petticoat, she positioned herself behind the counter.
Arden slid her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder as we walked to the back.
Her trust was a gift, one I didn’t deserve, but I was grateful each time she gave it to me.
“Two weeks until Christmas.” She stared up at me. “Are Clay and Asa spending the holidays with you?”
Had the girls not brought a hefty plate of Thanksgiving goodies to my door after I passed on joining them for dinner with their families, they wouldn’t have known I was sprawled on my bed, sulking with a book about a turkey shifter and a cranberry farmer that made me question if my dark tastes had gone too far.
Probably not a good idea to read a romance whose main characters made my stomach rumble.
I might have devoured those leftovers with a bit too much enthusiasm for a black witch in recovery.
“A lot can happen in two weeks.” I bounced a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so.”
