“Come on, big guy. Good cookies await. Hand made by your mama. What song do you not sing in the Christmas chorus?”
He moved his mouth, no sound coming out.
“What was that?” she asked.
“My version of ‘Winter Wonderland.’” He looked up and gave her a very serious look, adjusting his glasses. “Tech moguls don’t sing.”
She cracked up. “Hey, the only moguls around here are up in the mountains.”
“You’ll see,” he said as they walked toward the shiny gold sign that readSugarfalletched into the wood over the door. When they got there, Nicole pushed open the bakery door, the bell giving a sweet jingle before falling quiet again.
Late afternoon light streamed through the front windows, spilling across empty display cases and chairs already turned upside down on tables. The rush was over, and the tourists had moved from cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate to cocktails and fine dining.
But Sugarfall’s scents lingered—warm butter, melted chocolate, and a faint ribbon of coffee that clung to every corner.
“Smells like heaven,” Nicole called, peeling off her gloves and tucking them into her coat pocket.
Gracie stepped out from the kitchen doorway, tendrils of her strawberry blond hair falling over her face, a bit of flour streaked across the apron she wore. She was MJ’s clone for sure, with lighter red hair and a more introverted personality.
“You always say that.” Gracie laughed, waving them inside. “There’s my Benny boy!” She held out her hands—one with a spatula—for Benny to run to her. But he just shuffled forward.
She cocked her head in fake exasperation. “Hello? Mom-love, please.” She shook her hands. “Been waiting all day.”
He gave a quick smile. “Can we go back to Snowberry soon?”
Gracie straightened and looked surprised. “I thought you’d stay while I finish this cake. It’s for a Christmas wedding. Want to see?”
He shrugged and let her hug him, then headed past her into the kitchen.
“Did he have a bad chorus practice or something?” Gracie whispered.
“He wants to get home to Red.”
Gracie made a face, then slipped an arm around Nicole. “Thanks for picking him up. There’s a red velvet cupcake with your name on it. Well, it says ‘St. Nick’ and has a red Santa cap, but it’s still your name.”
Hugging her back, Nicole let her cousin lead her deeper into the Sugarfall kitchen, a magically sweet place where theworktables gleamed under bright lights. Stainless-steel bowls and measuring spoons were stacked neatly to the side, but one table was completely taken over by a towering white cake. Buttercream already smoothed its sides to perfection, and some evergreen sprigs lined the bottom layer.
“Everyone’s gone for the day,” Gracie said, picking up a piping bag. “Have tea, cocoa, whatever you want. I just have to make the roses and add a few last-minute touches to this cake.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Nicole told her. “Where’s the wedding?”
Gracie looked over the cake. “Grand Hyatt, of course.”
Nicole rolled her eyes and wandered around her cousin’s workplace, which was so different from her own.
Benny perched on a chef’s stool in front of a tray of white frosted sugar cookies and a fresh glass of milk his mother had prepared. Next to it, a small plate with a Christmas cupcake decorated as Santa’s face that did, indeed, say “St. Nick” in fondant letters.
Nicole ruffled his hair as she passed. “Told you it was better than school.”
“Did you have cookies at school?” Gracie asked as she coaxed some icing out of the bag with the same tenderness she used to get conversation out of her son.
“Bad ones. Did Grandpa call?”
“No. Were you expecting him to?”
“Not really.” He pushed the cookies away. “Can I play a game on your computer in the office?”
Gracie looked up from the cake, searching her son’s face. “Sure. You okay, Ben?”
