Suddenly, Evie’s voice cut through his thoughts. “And early tomorrow we’re still on for delivering the cookies to the festival?”
He blinked, struggling to process her words.
“Randy?” she prompted gently.
“Yes, the cookies,” he managed as his thoughts snapped back to reality. “I’ll be over bright and early.”
“Okay. See you then. Night, Randy.” With a smile that left him breathless, she slipped inside, and the opportunity to kiss her vanished into the night.
Left alone on the porch, he felt the weight of the missed moment. But he’d see her soon. First thing in the morning. He whistled under his breath as he walked over to his cottage.
CHAPTER 11
Evie woke with the sun, filled with anticipation for the festival. As she moved about the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune, she carefully arranged the cookie tins into boxes for easy transport. The irony of her newfound Christmas spirit wasn’t lost on her—hadn’t she sworn to ignore the holiday this year? Yet here she was, caught up in the festive whirlwind.
Her mind drifted back to the previous night’s Christmas dance, a warm glow spreading through her chest. The faces of so many welcoming islanders flashed through her mind, but one stood out above the rest. Randy. Dancing with him had been… unexpected. Wonderful. She could almost feel his arms around her, the warmth of his body close to hers.
“Oh, Nana,” she murmured, a smile tugging at her lips. “You always did know best.” Her grandmother’s final gift, that stunning dress, had been nothing short of perfect. It was as if Nana had known exactly what she would need, even from beyond.
A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Her heart skipped as she hurried to answer, pausing briefly to check her reflection. The kitchen must have been warmer than she realized—a rosy flush colored her cheeks.
She opened the door to find Randy, his face split by a wide, infectious grin. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” he teased, punctuating the statement with a playful wink that made her pulse quicken.
She returned his smile. “Yes, it has. Have you calculated the exact number of minutes?”
“Ah, sadly, no. I’m woefully lacking in the math department.” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock distress. “But it feels like days. Weeks, even.”
His playful dramatics pulled a laugh from her. “Well then,” she said, stepping aside, “we’d better remedy that right away. Come on in.”
He swung his hand from behind his back and held up a bag. “Today it’s strawberry muffins.”
She laughed. “You know, you don’t have to bring me breakfast every day.”
“But I like to. Besides, then I get a good breakfast too. I’m kind of tired of my usual cold cereal.”
She poured them coffee and got out plates—it was getting to be a familiar routine—and they sat down at the kitchen table.
Evie savored the sweet, tangy flavor of the strawberry muffin and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled between her and Randy. As she sipped her coffee, she found herself studying him over the rim of her mug. His presence in her grandmother’s kitchen felt so natural, as if he’d always been a part of her mornings here.
“These muffins are delicious,” she said, breaking the quiet. “I might have to start bribing you to bring them every day.”
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “No bribery necessary. I’m happy to be your personal muffin delivery service.”
As they finished their breakfast, her gaze drifted to the Christmas box on the counter. “Should we open another item before we head to the festival?” she asked.
“I think we should.”
She retrieved the box and set it on the kitchen table. “It’s your turn to pick,” she insisted.
He reached into the box and pulled out a flat item. He handed it to her. “Here, now you unwrap it.”
She carefully unwrapped the tissue paper and pulled out an old, worn postcard. The edges were frayed, and the image on the front had faded with time, but she could still make out a quaint seaside scene.
“Look at this,” she said, turning it over in her hands. “It’s so old.”
He leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing against hers. “What does it say?”
Dear Mrs. Rogers,
