“If you think you’ll get an insurance claim?—”
He stops speaking when I lift my head to finally meet his gaze. When our eyes connect, I choke down the words I want to shout back at him. Tears burn in my eyes, but I remind myself that I don't cry. Smile. Be happy and nice and chipper. Never sad or angry.
"I’m really sorry,” I squeak. “This was all my fault." I force a smile onto my face and try to keep my voice chipper. He stares at me, his eyes narrowed, but he doesn't utter a word. That might be a good thing at this point. "The cake was a gift. I'll do a refund and have another sent over. I hope you have a wonderful night."
He steps down off the porch. "Listen, I?—"
"I really have to go,” I say as I scramble to my feet. “Again, I’m really sorry." I repeat my apology before turning away from him and hurrying back to my SUV.
He shouts something, but I've already shut my door and started the engine. I take off back down the driveway, grateful the gate is still open.
It's not until I'm back on the main road that I fully process what happened. Also that I have cake and icing smeared all over me and now everywhere inside my SUV. I don't know if I should scream or cry. I want to do both, but I won't let myself. Instead I push it down with my embarrassment. Gah, did he have to be so freaking handsome?
I tell myself it doesn’t matter as I take a deep breath. "Everything is fine. You're great. Wonderful, actually."
I don't know what it was about the man, but his words made a direct hit. They somehow cut deeper than with anyone else, and my own aren't making me feel any better.
It’s clear this Noah guy is making it harder for me to believe my own propaganda.
Chapter Two
NOAH
I’m an asshole. There’s really no other way to put it. But I know I’m an asshole, and that should count for something. Clearly it doesn’t because ever since last night I can’t stop seeing the hurt in those blue eyes as they looked up at me. It’s like they’re haunting me at every turn.
This is all my sister’s fault. Kim and her wife Coco kept dropping hints about using their cabin the next time I was traveling for work, and I finally gave in. I should have known better than to trust her description of the small town.
Cheerful is a small town, but what my sister failed to mention was that this town is what you’d get if Santa Claus did acid. Everywhere I turn there’s Christmas decor, Christmas music, singing, children laughing, lights, hot cocoa, and there’s even a goddamn donkey in the center of town wearing a Santa hat. It’s insufferable.
My sister is an agent for a big author named Marley Jacobs, and for whatever insane reason, he chose to live here. All the time. She and Marley are close, and their families spend a lot of time together. That’s the reason Kim and Coco got the cabin in Cheerful.
She wanted to be closer to Marley and his wife Belle, and I can’t help but be a little irritated that she didn’t mention wanting to move closer to me. Although with my sparkling personality, I can’t blame her.
I’m here on business, but the first part of my work trip happened before I arrived in Cheerful. There’s a town on the other side of the lake where I met with the council and went over their options for a new bridge. I’m a civil engineer and do pro bono work for cities that are in dire need of new infrastructure. The bridge that connects that town to Cheerful keeps freezing and becoming unsafe for cars to drive over.
After our meeting was over, I drove across the bridge into Cheerful, and it was starting to get icy. The town closed the bridge down soon after, and I suspect it’s going to be that way for a few days until they can clear it. I was planning on staying the weekend to go over the plans, but after they shut it down, who knows how long I’ll have to stay.
I was irritated by that before I got to Cheerful, and then it took me forever to get through downtown. There was some kind of parade with people dressed up as reindeer everywhere. By the time I got to Kim’s cabin, I was in a bad mood, and then the cake lady showed up. It’s no excuse for how I acted, which is why I’m back in hell. Otherwise known as downtown Cheerful.
“Merry Christmas,” a stranger says as they pass me.
I feel my brows pull together in confusion. I don’t know who they are, so why are they talking to me?
“Happy Holidays,” a short man says when he passes me next.
Fuck me, do they do this to everyone?
“Singing under the stars.” A woman in a giant white puffy coat and hat jumps out in front of me, and I’m reminded of a deranged snowman. “This weekend in the town center, come sing with us under the stars.”
She shoves a flier in my hand before I can back away. I grumble my thanks as I barrel down the sidewalk in search of the bakery. I’m starting to think that if I don’t find it soon, I’m going to give up and leave town.
There’s a hardware store up ahead, and I’m surprised to see a redhead in overalls being pressed against the window by a guy in a lab coat as they make out like teenagers. I’m not against affection in public, but those two look like they’re about to fuck in the street.
“Jesus, what is with this place?” I mumble to myself as I keep walking.
I’m busy looking around for the bakery when someone swings open a door in front of me when I’m not looking. My face is turned to the side when it smacks into the glass, and I stumble back a few steps and see the name Sugar Plum Sweets written in white letters. That was the bakery name on the box I cleaned up last night.
Welp, looks like I found it.
