Maisie shrugged. “I’m not a chef. I don’t know the actual name of them.”
Nick wanted to pull her against his body and kiss her until neither of them could remember where they were, but he could see, from the corner of his eye, people watching them with curiosity, including her family and his own.
His phone continued to buzz in his pocket. Could be his publicist again, his manager, agent, a media outlet. Could be anyone, but the only person he felt like talking to was standing in front of him wearing a puffy white coat and a pale-pink hat pulled down over her ears.
“Didn’t you spend this morning making cookies you’re going to force us to decorate?” He leaned in more than he should, catching a hint of her intoxicating, lightly floral scent.
“Let. Not force.Let.That in no way makes me a chef. Just a person who can listen to a recipe. Also, just because you’re a sore winner doesn’t mean you have to be a sore loser. Keep that in mind for later.”
Before he could respond, Hester appeared at his side like one of Santa’s minions.
“Ready, pretty boy?” Her lips twitched.
Shock dropped Nick’s mouth open. The town had accepted Ellie as one of their own so, by extension, maybe he was one of them too. Enough so that Hester clearly wasn’t worried about teasing him.Why did that feel good? Still, he narrowed his gaze, trying to keep his own grin locked down. “I guess so.”
Maisie laughed and took another photo. Hester smiled for it and when she pushed her arm through his, Nick gave in and smiled as well.
Earlier, he was introduced to the other two judges: Clara, a local shop owner, and Micha, who worked for the radio station in the next county over. They came through the gingerbread door and joined Hester and Nick.
Hester took the mic, quieted the crowd. “Welcome to the thirty-third annual winter solstice celebration. We’ve got activities happening all day and tonight, there’s a movie in the park. We appreciate everyone’s donations and couldn’t do this without all of your support. I’d like to introduce three special guests who will judge the six desserts that made it to the finals.”
Nick made a mental note to give a donation. Cameras flashed and Nick felt the first flash of tightening in his chest.
“And of course, our sweet David Rose still has a bellyache but I’m very excited to share that we have a real G.O.A.T.,” Hester looked at Nick, who smiled, did his best to stay in the moment. “I get it now.” She looked back at the crowd. “A true hockey legend who happens to be the brother of our newest resident, Ellie Kingston, who you all may know has taken over Tickle Tree Farms. She and her son, Asher, have been here for a few months now and we’re glad to have them in our community. Now, that includes you, Mr. Kingston.”
Hmm.It’d been a long time since he was anyone other than Nick King. Being just Ellie’s brother and Asher’s uncle carried a lot less weight and untied the knots in his chest. There was something humbling, and somehow refreshing, that his hockey player status wasn’t his only draw. In this town, a G.O.A.T. was an actual goat.
Whether that realization took the edge off or his self-preservationkicked in and he zoned out, Nick fell into the moment and surprisingly, the desserts were pretty freaking spectacular. He followed the other judges’ actions, did what Hester told him, listened to the crowd banter back and forth while holiday music hummed in the air.
“Last up, we have the three-layer modern take on fruitcake. This one is a chocolate crust with a layer of strawberry jam, followed by a vanilla sponge cake, a layer of raspberry coulis, topped off with a lemon-glazed sugar cookie,” Hester said, reading the card.
Each of the judges took a taste and Nick couldn’t help the moan that slipped out. This was a fruit cake he could get behind.
“Holy shit, this is good,” he said as Hester stuck a microphone in his face.
The crowd erupted in laughter and Nick felt his cheeks heat. Even as his pulse clicked up several notches, he found his sister’s face, Asher’s, and then Maisie’s. She grinned at him just as Asher waved and called his name.
Once the triple-layer cake was declared the winner, Nick tried to extricate himself as quickly as possible but ended up posing for several photos with the winner, the mayor, the judges, some all together, then fans started circling. He stumbled over a cord in his effort to get away from the stage. People kept saying his name until it sounded far away and somewhat tinny. He was fine. He kept telling himself that, but it got harder to believe as he worked his way through the crowd.
Nick tried to smile, felt pens being pushed into his hand and he scribbled his name like it was muscle memory to do so. He’d walk three steps until someone grabbed his arm and posed for a photo. Sweat pooled at the nape of his neck. He’d been in crowds bigger than this, wilder than this. But knowing that didn’t make the pressure building in his chest loosen right this minute.You were fine a minute ago. Just breathe.
And then Maisie appeared in front of him and Colton and Jacob flanked his sides. The two guys were smaller than Nick but bothwere still wide-shouldered and tall. They took up space; had presence. And their positioning at his sides, Maisie’s at his front, buffered him. Protected him. And stole a piece of his heart. She stood there, looking up at him and crooked her finger.
He leaned down, worried he’d sound like he was panting or hyperventilating but she didn’t seem to care. She pushed up to her tiptoes even as he met her halfway and then ran her nose along his jaw until her lips were at his ear. Her hands squeezed at his waist, digging through the thick shirt he’d worn.
“What’s your middle name?” she whispered.
He wasn’t sure he heard her right. “What?”
Her fingers dug in more and he was sure she’d leave a mark. “Your middle name, Nick. What is it?”
“Carter.”
Her lips grazed his earlobe and a shiver racked his body. “Nicholas Carter King. I like it.”
She turned, fitting her body against him, pulling his arm around her waist and started walking. He was glued to her so it was somewhat awkward but between that and Colt and his husband creating some space for him, his heart rate settled enough that he pulled in a full breath.
People still called out to him but Maisie kept them moving forward, her fingers twined with his, gripping tight. His hand at her hip squeezed and then they turned the corner. Less people, less noise, fewer decorations. They kept walking until they reached the end of the street. A few cars passed them.
