I groaned aloud, my heart hurting and feeling foolish down to my toes.
Stupid red dress.
“You okay, Ivy?”
I opened my eyes and stared up at my dad, surprised to find him there. His silver eyebrows were pulled together in obvious worry, concern so caring I caught my breath.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’re sure?” Dad didn’t take me at face value. Maybe I’d used that line one too many times with him, or maybe he was just unwilling to let it go anymore.
I gave him a tremulous smile. “Yes. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
That answer seemed to appease him enough that he quit pressing the subject.
“That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling self-conscious about it since the first time I’d walked into the church. I followed Dad into the other room where the DJ was still playing music and the joyful crowd danced to his choices. It was loud, so loud suddenly and so overwhelming, that I had to speak up for Dad to hear me. “You know, I’m actually pretty tired. It’s been a long couple of days. I think I might just go home.”
“That’s too bad,” a voice behind me said.
Startled, I turned away from my father to find a stranger at my side. He was about half a head taller than I, with dark auburnhair and a warm smile. His expression was openly hopeful. “I was just coming over to see if you wanted to dance.”
I smiled at the handsome guy, unsure if he was a friend of the bride’s or groom’s. Didn’t really matter. He was kind of cute and seemed safe enough, and the appreciative gleam in his eyes let me know he thought I was attractive. Throwing caution to the wind—and Connor out of my mind—I held out my hand to the man while my father stepped back. “Maybe just one or two dances.”
My new friend grinned, flashing me a dimple. “That’s a start.”
26
The next morning had me driving toward my bakery at a reasonable hour since it was a Sunday. The past few weeks had been tough, with the competition from Connor’s Sweet Shoppe making me anxious about losing my loyal customers. But now that my newfound confidence was front and center, could I turn that around?
I didn’t have much of an option, if I wanted to keep the bakery going. I was more than willing to do what I had to do to make that happen.
As for the reception the night before, things hadn’t gone the way I’d planned. The charming stranger, whose name was Tom, was a cousin of the groom. He was a good dancer and a decent conversationalist, but when his hands wandered a little too low and his grip grew a little too tight, I found myself increasingly annoyed. He’d said all the right things, and tried to do all the right things, but I just felt bored by him long before the night was over.
Maybe a pharmacist who liked to talk about his BMW just wasn’t my cup of tea.
Or it was because there was no spark. Maybe that’s what it was. No fire between us. And he was too handsy. So, at the end of the night, when he’d asked for my number, I politely turned him down. Spending time with someone just for the sake of it was not what I wanted out of my life.
As I turned down the street of my bakery, I looked up and gasped aloud at the startling sight in front of me. Overnight, a stunning metal arch had appeared, spanning from one side of Main Street to the other. It connected my historic bakery with the new candy shop, The Sweet Shoppe, in the most enchanting way.
The arch soared above the street, illuminated by twinkling white lights that complemented the strings of lights already draped across the road. It was wrapped in a lush, realistic-looking evergreen garland, giving it a festive and timeless charm. The archway was a masterpiece, meticulously adorned with pinecones, red berries, and delicate silver ornaments that caught the morning light and sparkled like stars.
I parked my car along the side of the curb near the bakery and got out, still marveling at the beautiful archway. And as the townspeople began to stir and make their way to work or morning errands, their reactions mirrored my own. Gasps of delight and murmurs of astonishment filled the air. Children pointed excitedly, tugging at their parents’ sleeves, while couples paused to take in the beauty, some even snapping photos to capture the moment.
“Look at that! Isn’t it just magical?” one woman exclaimed.
“Who could have done this?” another voice chimed in. “It’s like something out of a Christmas movie!”
The arch not only created a beautiful connection between Bell’s Bakery and The Sweet Shoppe, but also seemed to bring the entire town together. People lingered beneath it, chattingand laughing, sharing in the unexpected joy it brought to their morning.
As I stood there, basking in the collective awe of my fellow townspeople, a thought crossed my mind. I had my suspicions about who might be behind this delightful surprise. Joy hadn’t mentioned it, so it couldn’t have been one of her initiatives. The fact that the arch connected Connor’s shop and mine led me to a more obvious conclusion.
With a smile on my face and a thrill of what it might mean, I went into the bakery and started getting ready to start the day. Ella followed half an hour later, bubbling over with enthusiasm for the beautiful arch outside our front window.
I quickly filled her in on my night, from the amazing compliments Connor and I had gotten regarding his chocolates and my wedding cake, to Connor’s odd reaction when I tried to kiss him in the gazebo, and ending with my dances with Tom.
By the time I’d told her everything, she was already shaking her head. “Tom sounds like a complete bore,” Ella said as she slid a tray of cinnamon rolls into the display case. “You don’t need that. I’m more curious about Connor.” She pointed outside the window where people were still marveling at the arch. “Why would he get twitchy one minute, then leave the party and come here and build you this amazing display? It doesn’t make sense.” She glanced at me. “We’re sure he was the one who built it, right?”
