“He might be handsome, but his personality cancels it out.” It wasn’t really fair to say that. Mitch had been nice to Faith the other evening when he had invited her over for dinner. He was kind and considerate, even if he did open up an emotional wound she’d been trying to heal for years.
“I’ll take your word for that since I’ve yet to interact with the guy,” Sarah said. “Still, he’s new to Snowdrift, so we should try to make him feel at home. Maybe I’ll see if Lance wants to help make something to take over. A welcome dinner or basket or something like that.”
“Is that what we’re supposed to do?”
Sarah shrugged. “Be warm and friendly? Itisthe Snowdrift way, isn’t it?”
Cold and bristly was more like it when it came to Faith’s feelings toward Mitch, especially after last night’s dream.
Just then, the magnet timer on Faith’s big oven beeped once, indicating a minute until she would need to pull her mini cakes out to cool.
“Listen,” Sarah said, noting the alert, “I’ve got to head back to the library, but seriously, text me as soon as you watchA List-Attraction. I need to know your thoughts. It’s killing me.”
The two women hugged goodbye, Sarah muttering something about giving Mitch a chance that Faith only half-heard. After her friend had stepped out, Faith did the opposite of what she promised: she Googled the show’s outcome.
“Cody rejects all three final contestants! Reveals the show was a publicity stunt to promote his upcoming film project.”
“Figures,” Faith groaned, chucking her phone onto the work surface with a clatter. She grabbed the sorry ball of dough again. “Men!”
“Actually, just me, so technically only a man, not men.” The low voice made her whirl completely around, sending the cookie dough flying from her grip like a frisbee, smacking Mitch in the chest with force. “Oomf!” He cradled the wayward dough ball against his shirt with one hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” With an apologetic grin, he gingerly set the dough onto the butcher block like it was a fragile bomb about to detonate. “I thought you’d heard me come in. I just wanted to bring this by.”
In his other hand was a brand-new fire extinguisher that he hoisted to eye level, dangling it in front of Faith as a reminder of her recent cookie calamity.
“Youreallydidn’t need to do that,” she said, inhaling sharply through her nose. She pinched the bridge of it.
“If I’m reading you right, you’re not saying that in theyou-really-didn’t-need-to-do-that-but-I-appreciate-the-kind-gesturesort of way, are you?” Mitch cocked his head.
Faith bit down on the inside of her cheek, frustrated. “I’m saying it in theI-can-provide-for-my-own-bakery-and-don’t-need-you-to-make-me-feel-incompetentsort of way.”
Mitch’s smile fell completely away from his mouth. “I didn’t realize there was more than one way to interpret this particular gesture. Shoot.”
“Seriously?” The timer for the cakes finally sounded, a persistent trill that drew her away from Mitch to tend to the desserts before she had another burnt mishap on her hands.
“I was just trying to be nice,” he added, shrugging innocently. “Neighborly.”
“It was just brought to my attention thatI’msupposed to be the nice and neighborly one by welcomingyouto the community.”
His mouth lifted on one side, deepening a single dimple. “I mean, I’m not opposed to that.”
Where was this conversation going? After Faith’s unwanted dream last night, she couldn’t be sure, because suddenly being neighborly with Mitch made her insides feel like they were on fire. “I can bake you some cookies. How about that?”
She opened the oven and pulled the mini cake tins out one by one, lining them up on the counter as steam coiled and rose from their fluffy peaks.
“In fairness, you’ve already baked me cookies in a sort of roundabout way,” Mitch said, studying her every move as she carried on in her kitchen. “My favorite were the marshmallow butterscotch ones that you dropped off at the firehouse this week.”
“About that.” Her hands gripped the ledge of the counter, shoulders squaring. She aimed a pointed look directly at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a firefighter?”
“Didn’t seem important.”
“Really? Don’t you think you would have come across a little better the other day if I’d known?”
His dark eyes squinted. “How did I come across?”
“Like a know-it-all intent on putting me—and my business—in its place.”
“It’s entirely possible that I’m still a know it all, as well as a firefighter.”
“Oh, believe me. I’m taking that into consideration.”
