“Sausage, pepperoni, and mushrooms, okay?”
“Perfect.”
Elias forced himself not to pump his fist. He might feel like a twelve-year-old with his first crush around Tasha, but he needed to act his age, or he’d embarrass himself.
And her too. “Meet me at my place?”
Tasha’s bright eyes and the way she leaned toward him made up for her shy smile. “Second house on the right. I’ll be there.”
Elias couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tasha parked her car in the cottage’s garage to keep from having to scrape the windows if it snowed or the temperature dropped overnight. It made the most sense with Elias’s house being a short walk from there. She could have driven straight to his place, but Mom had ingrained a few etiquette lessons over the years. Never show up empty-handed was one of them. Plus, doing something would take Tasha’s mind off Elias, so she wasn’t as frazzled when she arrived.
The man was too handsome for his own good.
Don’t think about him.
She grabbed a paper plate from the cabinet and arranged store-bought cookies and a few squares of the brownies she’d baked earlier. She strategically placed a few red-, green-, and gold-foiled Hershey Kisses on the plate and covered it with plastic wrap.
Far from fancy, but Mom said it was the thought that count.
She wondered If Elias enjoyed chocolate.Wait. Who didn’t like chocolate?
Tasha supposed a few people didn’t eat it, but she’d never met one. She unwrapped the plate and added four sugar cookies to be on the safe side.
A glance at the reflection in the microwave door sent her hand to her head to smooth the mess, aka her hair. Tasha didn’t know what to call this dinner, but she shouldn’t show up looking like a slob. Although she didn’t want to know when her hair went from looking decent to rocking Medusa locks. She doubted that happened on the drive home.
In the bathroom, she brushed her hair. Satisfied she’d tamed the tangles, she refreshed her lipstick. Her lips tingled. The shiny gloss tasted like peppermint.
Not that anyone else would be tasting it.
Still, Tasha smiled at the result two minutes of effort brought. If she wanted to impress him, she would change clothes, but she didn’t want him to think she was interested in him.
She wasn’t.
No dating, remember?
Still, the fluttery sensations in her stomach suggested a crush was likely. If not underway. At least crushes were safe.
Two minutes later, Tasha put on her winterwear. She locked the cottage’s front door and set off with the plate of sweets. As her exhales hung in the air, her steps crunched on the snow. She wore gloves, but if she hadn’t been holding dessert, her hands would be shoved deep into her jacket pockets.
Brrr. She’d forgotten how cold winters could be. Wishing Bay had a few freezing days but nothing like Berry Lake.
Better get used to the cold with the ice show outside.
Tasha had packed appropriate clothes for skating on the lake, but breaking the skaters into shifts so they weren’t outside too long might be smart. But she would have to see how the kids did with the weather the skating auditions before deciding.
Lights—some multicolored, others white—decorated the houses, cabins, and cottages on Pinewood Lane. The festive glow gave her Christmas spirit a needed boost. She wouldn’t be embracing her inner Santa anytime soon, but turning her back on everything red and green and silver and gold made no sense.
Elias’s house had multicolored lights hanging along his house’s eaves. Those were her favorites. Not that Christmas lights made or broke a…whatever they were. His front-door wreath with holly and pinecones reminded her of the one hanging on the Wishing Bay Dress Shop’s door. She had a feeling Kristen might have made it. She was creative and crafty with a design degree from a prestigious school; she should be designing the dresses her mom sold, not simply making the purchases for the shop, but no one wanted Tasha’s opinion.
Each step brought her closer to Elias’s porch. As she stood in front of his door, tingles threatened to erupt. She tamped them down.
You’ve got this.
With a slight hesitation, she rang the bell.
