I take it, licking the thing clean to prove I can. But for one stupid heartbeat, I imagine it’s her mouth I’m tasting. I catch her watching my tongue work.
She pours the chocolate, drops in handfuls of mini marshmallows, and tops it with heaping spoonfuls of whipped cream.
Drew hands me a mug, our fingers brushing with an unexpected spark that shoots all the way up my arm.
If she feels it, she doesn’t give anything away.
I sweep it to the back of my thoughts with difficulty, especially as she stirs her finger in the top of her own cup, swirling the cream and cocoa powder.
I take a sip of my own, not resisting the small moan of pleasure. It’s delicious.
She smirks at my reaction before the corners of her mouth fall again. “I can’t go back to the bakery. This place will suffocate me twice as fast if I’m stuck there.”
Her eyes flash to me then down to her cocoa as she takes her first sip. I hate the hurt she shows, but she’d always been open about her vulnerabilities with me. How to find an outlet for her frustrations, with the pressure to be perfect.
She got along with the other girls fine, but she didn’t connect with any of them the same ways she did with Gabe, even though they’re seven years apart.
Drew’s always been sensitive, but this blow has knocked her further into herself.
The town can pile it on, and she seems too raw to deal with the extra pressure.
“Don’t worry so much, Drew. You’re not alone this time.” Because the last time the town latched onto her, I was on my honeymoon. I find her elbow and make her look at me. “You know that, right?”
“You always did have a hero complex.” She’s teasing, but there’s a pause—her dark eyes meet mine again—and that spark drives a new tension that’s simplydifferent.
I feel it in my gut but don’t have the words yet—just an unsettling awareness ofher.
“Thanks.” Her voice is soft, and she pulls her mug between us, slurping through her whipped cream.
I grin down at her, and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry about what other people say and do what you need to do.”
This time, her smile is a little bigger. A little more real.
The front door opens, and Gabe comes in, snow dusting his jacket and blond hair. He stomps his feet and brushes his shoulders off, stopping and taking us in as we stand together in the kitchen.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
I feel like I’ve been caught, but I’m not completely sure why.
7
DREW
I’m overflowing with nervous energy.
Telling my parents last night was stressful, like my mother’s disappointment in what I imagine amounts to her wanting to spend time with me.
But my dad huffed and puffed about me paying rent.
Mom convinced him to give me until after Christmas, so I need to make this work or I’ll be stuck in that bakery and wither back into an old self that chafes.
Brewing a strong cup of assam tea calms me at first, the ceremony of it, but as I wait for the eight-minute steep, I get antsy again.
My nerves are jacked up by the time I show up at the Lodge.
The bright and early morning sky is just touching the darkness on the horizon behind me.
It lights up the logs that make up the front facade of the building.
