“Oh, MJ.” Cindy slipped an arm around her and pulled her in. “You are so loved and needed and treasured. This whole world would be dimmer without you. And, honestly, if he doesn’t know that, then…”
“I read his letter again last night,” MJ admitted. “I kept rereading the line that said, ‘When I come back, it’ll be as a simple man who fixes pipes and wants to court a classy, gorgeous, good-hearted woman the way a proper gentleman should.’”
“Talk about romantic,” Cindy said on a soft laugh.
“And then I dreamed about George.”
“Oh, MJ. George would have loved the guy. Don’t forget he gave us a million dollars!”
MJ lifted a hand, then let it fall. “I’d give it back to have what you and Jack have,” she confessed. “Don’t hate me for saying that.”
Cindy squeezed her tight. “Hateyou? I love you more than anything in the world. And I understand. And I want that love for you.”
They sat awhile, shoulder to shoulder, silent for a long time. Then someone dinged the bell in the kitchen and the front door opened and they heard Jack and Nicole’s laughter…and life moved on at Snowberry Lodge.
“Do you think that diva is going to pick us for her social media stuff?” MJ asked, always the one to slice a situation down to a few key words and nail it every time.
“I don’t know. I hope so. But if not…”
“Cin?” Jack’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Where’s the woman I’m going to marry and make happy for the rest of my life?”
Cindy winced at the comment, squeezing MJ a little hard.
“If not,” MJ said, “you’ve already won your own lottery.”
And all Cindy wanted to do was share some of those winnings, just like Matt Walker had said he wanted to do.
As they rose and walked out, Cindy closed her eyes and prayed so hard that that man didn’t break her sister’s heart. Because if he did, she’d…
She’d pick up the pieces. That’s what they’d always done for each other and that would never change.
Mistletoe on Main was already an astounding success, Gracie decided, making a mental note to give props to Eleanor Locke and her team for a new and fantastic holiday celebration in Park City.
It didn’t hurt that the weather cooperated beautifully, with a whisper-light snow moving in at sunset after a day of sunshine and achingly blue Utah skies.
Now, flakes fluttered through the air like shaken glitter, each catching the golden glow of the streetlamps along Main Street, which was exclusive for pedestrians that day and night.
Down the festive and fully decorated street, brass instruments played a jaunty version of “Jingle Bells,” and the smell of kettle corn and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Laughter spilled from bundled-up families sipping cocoa and cider as they wandered to each display outside the shops and restaurants.
Gracie stood beside “Sweet ‘n’ Clean”—the joint extravaganza that sat proudly in the middle of Main between their two bakeries.
Their whimsical creation had exceeded her highest hopes, perfectly blending her sugar-coated fantasy and his clean, modern sensibility. One side was pastel pink with candy shinglesand spun-sugar icicles dripping from the roof. The other sleek was and architectural, with walls of almond-flour brick and cacao-bean trimmed windows.
In the center, where their styles met, the spun sugar bridge glistened in the light, drawing compliments and many pictures from admiring crowds.
Gracie snuggled into the fur collar of her winter jacket, her hands deep into her pockets as she watched people pose with her creation, then choose if they wanted to taste treats from the “sweet” or “clean” side.
Their assistant managers, Amanda for Sugarfall, and Roberto for Craving Clean, stood side by side at a table giving out samples in tiny tasting cups, laughing together at the friendly competition.
And wasn’t that what this was? A friendly competition.
Gracie glanced a few feet away to where Marshall stood chatting with a young couple he knew from his church. His dark hair was hidden under a knit hat, his laugh deep and easy. As they all talked, Marshall stole a look to the side, directly at Gracie.
For two or three heartbeats, they held eye contact, sending a rush from her head to her toes. She felt a smile pull. He gave a secret wink.
Right then, it felt like all of Park City froze in a moment of anticipation and hope and promise.
Could Marshall feel the same things she did? Could he be as attracted to Gracie as she was to him?
