Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
It’s not a question; it’s a promise.
Gratitude fills her gaze, and we head to the front counter. I don’t move my hand as we wait our turn. I can feel everyone watching, but my eyes are on her. She looks around, plastering a fake smile that she got from her mother on her face. It isn’t until we get to the front counter that a real smile takes over her expression.
Because Noelle is beaming at her childhood friend.
Noelle Matthews is a gorgeous woman. She’s a year younger than us, with dark-brown hair and sweet caramel eyes. She’s on the thicker side, and I mean, if I worked in a bakery, I would be too. She has such a kind, sunshiny demeanor to her, and you can’t help but smile when you’re in her presence.
Noelle squeaks loudly when she sees Fable before coming around the counter to wrap her arms around her. Unlike when Fable hugged Dean, she doesn’t tense up. Instead, I watch as her body relaxes, and like the Grinch’s heart did, mine grows a bit at the sight.
“Fable! It’s so good to see you,” Noelle says into Fable’s hair. “I was starting to think I’d have to come to a game to see you.”
Fable’s lyrical laugh hits me in the gut as she pulls back. “I know. I’m so sorry. It’s been a rough couple weeks.”
Noelle’s face falls. “I know. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Fable squeezes Noelle’s wrists. “Thank you. And look at this place. It’s everything you wanted!”
Noelle beams as she falls into boss-lady mode and tells Fable everything about the bakery. She shows us all the baked goods, the snacks her team hand-makes, and then her favorite coffees. She’s so animated, and I appreciate how it eases Fable’s nerves from earlier. Everyone is still watching, but no one is looking at her like a pariah. Instead, I see smiles and happy looks while the two friends catch up. Of course, Fable is hanging on every word Noelle says, completely oblivious to everyone around her.
Even me, which I’m not really a fan of.
“This is all so darn cool. Listen, you have a line. We’ll order and go sit down. I want to talk to you about ad space at the Thistle. Dean mentioned you were in the market.”
Noelle’s eyes light up. “Oh my God, yes. I’ve been asking this big lug for space forever!” She punches me in the bicep, and I wince.
“Ouch, that’s not very Christmassy of you.”
She ignores me. “With all the travel hockey, I am missing out on a lot of sales.”
Fable shoots me a dirty look. “Exactly.”
I grin sheepishly. “You know I’d hate to take your money, Noelle.”
She laughs. “Can’t make money if you don’t spend some.”
Fable holds out her hand to her. “I was just saying that this morning!”
I sigh deeply as Noelle snickers. “Things are going well?”
“As well as a deer’s antlers stuck in barbwire,” Fable says, and I wince.
I mean, I don’t think things are that bad.
Noelle laughs and then takes our order, after promising to come see us when it dies down a bit. Once we sit down, Fable is bringing up her files on her phone to be ready. She already has a price list made and details of what we’ll offer.
“I guess we’re doing it.”
She gives me a duh look. “Yes. Like I said, this can bring in more money to use for the west rink.”
Her drive is sexy as fuck. How can I say no to her? Why am I saying no to her? She wants to help, she wants to make this place better, and we could do it. Together. I swallow my pride, which isn’t easy, and nod. “Fine, maybe we should hash everything out again.”
She pulls her brows together. “For you to say no again?”
I rub the back of my neck. “No. Maybe I’m seeing things through new eyes.”
She holds my gaze, her eyes searching mine. “I’m gonna make everything I want happen.”
I can’t help but smile at that. “I have no doubt, princess.”
I assume she’ll look away, but she doesn’t. Heat moves in those moss-green depths, leaving my mouth dry and my hands itching to reach out for her again. She bites into her cheek before shyly saying, “Thanks for coming with me.”
When I only nod—since telling her there is nowhere else I want to be would pop the little bubble we’re in—she looks back down to her phone. I watch her for a moment as she types quickly, her brain unloading through her thumbs. I need her attention, so I say, “I called Derick. He’s updating your profile on the website. Unfortunately, I had to send the picture you wanted since I don’t have the other.”
She looks up at me through her lashes. “Oh poo.”
I smirk. “Also, don’t lower your prices for anyone here. You’re worth every cent.”