Graham
The sign above Holiday Orchards is festooned with garland, strung with lights, and has a giant red bow over the center of it the size of a refrigerator. The ground is covered in snow as far as the eye can see in every direction, and it makes the barn, the main house my parents live in, look all that much more enchanting. It doesn’t take much to turn Holiday Orchards into something out of a fairy tale, but this evening it glows with an otherworldly appeal altogether. Magic lingers in the air, the very same magic that brought me to Missy.
“That’s an awful lot of cars,” Missy marvels as I end up parking a good distance away. I offered to drop her off at the door, but she insisted she was fine with the short hike. “There must be at least fifty people in there. I guess this is our official debut as a couple.”
“That it is.” I let Missy know all about my meeting with her brother last night, and she was relieved to know that there wouldn’t be a knock-down, drag-out fight in front of the Christmas tree. “It might be strange for like a minute, but I’m pretty sure that will dissipate quickly. It’s Christmas.” I give her knee a quick pat. “People love a happy ending.”
We get out, and I do my best to balance the pies as we make our way to the front door. The front of the palatial home I grew up in has lights strung on every available surface. For as long as I can remember, my mother has been a firm believer in the fact you cannot have too much Christmas. Each room in that house is covered with sentiments that represent the holiday, from the entry to the broom closet. Each room has its own miniature tree, and the living room houses one that stretches to the vaulted ceiling. It’s quite a sight, and that’s just the point. It’s safe to say my mother has covered her Holiday territory.
I stop shy of opening the door and pause to look at Missy. “You are more than stunning tonight.” We stopped off at her house after the bakery, and she changed into something she thought fit the occasion better than her sister’s sweats. But in truth, Missy could have kept the sweats on and still have been the most beautiful woman in that room tonight—in all of Gingerbread. And then, of course, we sat by the fire, warming one another with our arms wrapped around each other, sharing stories from Christmases past. It’s amazing to look back and see how obvious my attraction was to her. I only wish I could have realized my feelings for her sooner.
“And you look far too gorgeous to ever leave the house,” she says it like a reprimand, but the corners of her lips curl up. “And I love it. Thank you for choosing me.”
I inch back a notch. “Trust me, I’m the one who’s grateful.” I blink a smile. “I think I’m about to steal a kiss.”
“Oh?” She glances up. “I don’t see any Mistletoe.”
“I do.”
A throaty laugh bubbles from her. “That line will never get old.”
I steal a quick kiss before we step into the house and shout a cheery, “Merry Christmas!”
The living room is filled with familiar faces, of family and friends, all of them standing around and mingling while Christmas music fills the air. But the one friendly face we’ve both been dying to see is the one bounding in our direction at the moment.
“Noel!” Missy falls to the floor as Noel tackles her, and they both roll around in the foyer as if they hadn’t seen one another in months—years. Missy quickly gets on her knees as Noel licks her cheeks. “I have a present for you back at the house.” She plants a kiss over Noel’s forehead and springs to her feet, dusting off her knees as if it were the most natural thing in the world to roll around the floor at a Christmas party. And that’s why I love Missy most—she’s not afraid to just be herself. “Are you sure your mom is okay with having her in the house with so many people? So many potential shoes to gobble up?”
“Are you kidding? It’s her first grandchild. She wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mom and Dad step over to greet us, as do Joy and Jack Winters, and we exchange a holiday greeting with each of them.
“So?” Missy’s mother beams with pride. “I take it everything is back to how it should be?” She looks from Missy to me with the excitement bubbling from her.
Missy glances my way. “Exactly how it should be. And I want to apologize for that horrible outburst at the auction last night. I hope you’ll all forget about it and put it out of your minds forever.” She shudders at the memory.
My mother and Joy exchange a quick glance. Finally, Mom clears her throat. “I don’t think we can forget about it entirely. But I do suggest that everyone plays nice tonight.” She glances over her shoulder before leaning in toward Missy. “We have a few extra guests that you might want to steer clear of.”
I grunt because I may have forgotten all about the fact Tanner insisted on inviting Sabrina.
Missy stands on her tiptoes a moment until she spots the blight and sucks in a lungful of air. “Wow, I guess that’s the last person I expected to see here tonight.” She squints into the living room. “It looks as if she’s still clinging to Tanner pretty hard.” She looks to me. “Do you think she’s waiting for me to alleviate her of her duties?” Missy filled me in on the plot to send Sabrina in Tanner’s direction. A brilliant move if you ask me. I’d saypoor Tanner, but judging by that ear-to-ear grin, he doesn’t look too traumatized by her presence.
“Why don’t we go over and find out?” I wrap an arm around her shoulders, and both her mother and mine fan themselves at the sight, giggling like a couple of schoolgirls. “Excuse us. I think it’s best if we break the ice and start the night off on the right foot.”
Missy and I head over to the enormous fireplace already roaring with a blazing fire. The exact fire that Tanner and Sabrina are warming themselves by.
“Merry Christmas,” Missy sings, and the two of them turn to us with pleasant expressions. For the first time since I’ve set foot back in Gingerbread, Sabrina Jarrett doesn’t look as if she’s about to devour me. In fact, judging by the way she’s leaning toward my brother, I’d say her sights are set in another Holiday direction.
Tanner and Sabrina each offer up a polite merry Christmas, and Tanner actually smiles at me for the first time in years.
“It looks as if Santa was good to you both,” I tease as I rock back on my heels, still admiring how affable they both seem at the moment.
“Better than good.” Tanner nods to Missy. “Thank you for saving Holiday Pies. Sabrina let me know it was you who worked to make those recipes.”
She nods “It was my pleasure. Actually, it was my mother who spurred me on to get there. And, of course, I had a blast playing in the kitchen. It’s something you’ll never have to twist my arm to do. My favorite is the salted caramel apple pie, and the s’mores pumpkin. Graham came by this morning, and we baked one of each so the two of you can sample them if you like.” She gives a little shrug. “I hear the local stores are interested in perusing them. That’s great. I’m really happy for you, Tanner. All of you.” She looks to me with a glimmer in those periwinkle eyes.
“Actually”—my brother takes in a deep breath, and I’m half-afraid he’s going to take us to some dark place by telling us that the stores changed their minds—“I got in touch with a buyer from a big box store. He said farm-to-table is really big, and he loves the fact we’re baking using our own fresh produce. They’re interested in meeting up with us.”
“What?” I pull my brother in for a quick embrace. “That’s fantastic!”
