“I do today.” She abandoned the fries and leaned in, her dark eyes intense. “Gracie, listen. Those two kids are the smartest little people I know. When they come up with something, it isn’t because they were bored. They know stuff. They know their parents. They know, well, pretty much everything and I, for one, think you should follow their plan.”
“Please. They’re eleven years old! They think love is a Lego kit.”
“Sometimes, love would be easier if it was,” Nicole said dryly. “Look at you. You keep everything safe. Predictable. You have your shop and your son and your lists and your pies, and it’s all steady and good. You’ve built abeautifullife. But you’ve also built walls and…more walls.”
“I don’t have walls.”
Nicole reached out, squeezing Gracie’s wrist. “Benny showed you a door, that’s all. You don’t have to go through it. But don’t board it up without even peeking.”
Gracie stared at the window, at people passing in puffer jackets, at her own reflection ghosted back with a look on her face she recognized and didn’t like. Oh,Nicole. She could talk a houseplant into blooming.
“Even if I… peeked,” Gracie said, choosing words like stepping stones, “what if this hurts him? What if it confuses Benny? What if he thinks every friend’s parent is a candidate and starts arranging weddings on the school bus?”
“Then you tell him you’re the adult and you’ll handle your heart,” Nicole said simply. “And you will. That’s the thing. Youwill.Even if nothing happens with Marshall. Even if you try this gingerbread thing and decide it’s just friendship and a funny story. You can walk yourself back across Main Street and go home to your beautiful, safe life knowing you at leasttried.”
Gracie closed her eyes.
Maybe Nicole was right. Safe had become lonely. Predictable had become small. She had mastered the single mom juggling act so thoroughly that she’d stopped tossing anything risky into the air.
“Also,” Nicole added with a wicked grin. “The man has shoulders for days. Is it a crime to enjoy building a gingerbread house next to a set of delts like that?”
Gracie bit back a laugh. “Stop.”
“I won’t,” Nicole said cheerfully. “And what’s his deal, anyway? Divorced or just separated? Why? What do we know about his life?”
“Not much,” she said. “Olivia rarely talks about her mother and in the year she and Benny have known each other, I don’t think she’s seen the woman.”
“Benny hasn’t seen much of Sam.”
She nodded. After some whitewater, Gracie’s ex and his wife, Coco, decided to do a full court press to stay together. They had, in fact, conceived another child, due in a few months. It had kept Sam completely out of their lives.
“I don’t know much about Marshall’s ex—or Marshall himself, except he’s a very involved father. He always comes to school events, and Olivia is a remarkable student.”
“So find out about him! Use the time together to get to know who this man really is. Even if it’s just as your retail neighbor, your competitor, and your son’s friend’s father. It doesn’t have to be a Christmas romance movie. I mean, it could be, but it doesn’t have to be.”
Gracie wiped her mouth and stared at her food, thinking about all that. “I’m not saying yes.”
“I know.”
“I’m also not saying no,” she heard herself admit.
Nicole’s smile turned quiet and proud. “That’s my cuz.”
“I will think about it,” Gracie said pointedly. “Think. About. It.”
“Think fast,” Nicole said as their salad and sandwich arrived with two plates. “Mistletoe on Main is in, what? Less than two weeks?”
Gracie plucked at a beet when Nicole divided the salad, changing the subject to Aunt Cindy’s upcoming wedding, happy to listen as Nicole told her all about the pressure from the Aisle Files lady.
It was a great distraction—lots of family gossip and thoughts to share—but when lunch was over, Gracie knew she had to go back to Craving Clean with a decision.
But she still wasn’t sure what it was.
Gracie used more delayingtactics at Sugarfall, then finally brushed her teeth, checked her makeup, and crossed Main Street with the steady chant of her intention in her head: tell him the truth, tell him the truth, tell him the?—
The bell on Craving Clean’s door gave its modern jingle when she stepped inside. Roberto looked up and grinned like he’d been waiting and turned to the door to the kitchen.
“She’s here, boss.”
