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“I’m not going anywhere.” I don’t know if he truly means it, but having him around makes me feel better.
He leads me to his insanely expensive-looking vehicle and opens the passenger door. It’s too dark to determine the model, but it’s obviously way out of my budget. Maybe to Heath it does look like I’m just a gold-digging bitch, but he should know me better than that. I’ve worked hard for everything I have. “Here, climb inside.”
“Thanks.” Once I’m inside, he closes the door and moves to the driver’s side and climbs inside.
“Sorry that our dinner got ruined, but we still have our meal here.” He lifts it up before setting it in the back.
“I’m sure the burgers are good,” I say, giving him a crooked smile.
“They smell fantastic. Almost as delicious as you. So what made you want to become a baker? A natural gift?”
“Yes, something like that. When I was fourteen, I started helping out at the bakery because my family kind of needed the money. The former owner, Mrs. Green, let me help and I worked under the table until I could get a worker’s permit, and then I was baking daily. I fell in love with it. I studied with some books and watched baking shows, but I don’t actually have a specialty degree.”
“Wow, so you’re a natural.”
“I guess.” I shrug, blushing again. Luckily, it’s dark and he can’t see how embarrassed I really am.
“What happened to Mrs. Green?”
“She retired about four years ago, sold me the property, and moved to Florida with her husband.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three. You?”
He pauses like he has to think about it for a minute. It’s clear he’s older than me, but I can’t imagine he’s that much older. “Thirty. Is that too old for you, sugarplum?” He reaches out and tucks a few stray hairs behind my ear.
I haven’t dated, so I can’t say what age is a good cut-off for me, but I like him, so I just give him a simple, “No.”
“So where do you want to eat?”
“Your place. I want to see if Christmas exploded on the inside or just on the outside.”
“Oh, it’s just as bad on the inside.”
“Good.” He pulls into the driveway.
“What about my car?” I ask as I undo my seatbelt.
“I’ll drive you to work tomorrow."
“I start really early,” I warn him, because it’s not for the faint of heart.
He takes my hand and brings it to his lips before I can leave the vehicle and kisses it. “Don’t worry, sugarplum. I promise I’ll get you there on time.”
“Okay.” He lets it go, and we both exit the car.
“It really is beautiful,” he admits, staring at my decorations. I leave out that I had several guys helping, including Heath.
“Be careful—you’re going to be shocked.”
Chapter Eight
James
I walk into a winter wonderland, and I’m surprised that I don’t hate it. It feels like home. Every little piece is meant to be there; warm, inviting, and I tell her so. “Holiday, it’s perfect.”
“Are you just trying to butter me up?”
