Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
A little later after we’ve both showered and my sheets have been swapped for clean ones, he slides into bed with me, nuzzling my neck.
“Pretty sure this counts as a date,” I say softly, stroking his hair.
“Good. I planned it and everything. Wanted it to be amazing.”
“You succeeded. From the surprise of it to all it entailed.”
He smiles against my skin, giving me another soft, sleepy kiss. “You gonna say it now?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Not yet. I’m not saying it yet.”
“You will, Isla. You will.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely,” he says, then blows out a long breath, like he’s letting the day fade away.
We’re quiet for a beat, but as he drifts off, I ask, “Are you sure you don’t need to go?” I’m hoping he’ll stay.
“Are you kicking me out?”
“No, but you said you snuck away. I wanted to be certain,” I say, and maybe because I’m not that used to sleepovers, or to a man telling me what he’s up to. It’s all new, but I like it.
“This is where I want to be,” he says, and my chest warms from the reassurance. With a yawn, Rowan reaches for his phone from the nightstand and dictates a text, presumably to his parents, saying, “You were right, but I’ll be home by five-thirty.”
After one more soft kiss in the dark, he falls asleep in seconds, probably tired from the game, tired from the candy canes, tired from everything.
I’m not tired, so I read a little longer.
Even though the story is an escapist one, and even though I’m still riding the high of kisses and whipped cream and candy, I’m both dangerously happy and a little bit melancholy.
But secret midnight visits with a hot guy who takes you on a trip down Candy Cane Lane don’t come around often. You have to grab them while you can.
43
I WISH HE’D SAID DATING
ISLA
In the morning, I pace through the Sugar Plum Bakery like a coach giving a pep talk. I am all focus. “This is our wheelhouse. This is our chance to shine, isn’t it, ladies?”
“Damn right it is,” Eloise says, her game face on, right along with her apron.
“If anyone beats me, I will retire,” Aurora declares theatrically.
I point at her. “Do not ever say such an awful thing. You will bake delicious goodies till the end of time.”
Aurora grins. “True. I may even serve cake in the afterlife.”
“And I will visit your eternal bakery. For now, in this life, we’re going to win,” I say, then gesture to the door. “Let’s go to the North Pole Nook and Tavern.”
We gather our ingredients for the competition today. It’s one of the last ones—Cocoa and Cocktails. The trick is to make the best hot cocoa and then a version of it spiked. The judges taste test both versions to ensure the liquor isn’t masking the flavor. It’s like the long and short program in ice skating. You need to nail both.
Since I’ve got a baker on my team, I’m betting on us. Plus, Mabel’s here in town as a sort of honorary coach. She’ll be helping out at our station as a volunteer, so if I need a piece of advice here or there, I can ask her.
Our team is in second place, but we’re inches away from the first team on the leaderboard—the Ice Queens. With a strong finish, we can take home the prize after the final competition, and give twenty thousand dollars to charity.
My jaw tightens as I think about how badly I want the victory—and I’m not even the one competing.
For the salted caramels.
For the charity.
But also…so I don’t walk away from Evergreen Falls with nothing to show for it.
After we pack up the ingredients, with Aurora handing the store reins on a busy day to her trusted employees, we head to the North Pole Nook. I tighten my coat. It’s chillier than usual. Along the way, the air bites my cheeks, but the cold isn’t the reason my chest is a metal ball of anxiety and want.
I hate failing. I’ve always expected the best from myself. I excelled in school. I succeeded at work. I built my podcast into one of the top dating podcasts around. I used it as a launching pad for Cupid’s Confidante, which has been wildly successful. Have I matched everyone? No. But my record is in the top tier of matchmakers—in just one year.
Then, I worked with Rowan.
And I didn’t finish the job.
My stomach plummets.
On top of that, I’m going to leave this town with a breakup on my track record. My own. Fine, we’ll say we’re better off as friends, but anyone who saw us kissing each other’s faces off yesterday would know there’s nothing just friendly about the two of us. They’ll know our romance fizzled. And I’ll look like I don’t know what I’m doing in the dating department.