Mitch knew he’d overstayed his welcome, not that Faith was all that welcoming to begin with.
Still, he lingered. There was something resting on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. He just had this startling desire to continue talking—bantering—whatever it was they were doing.
Faith took another unnecessary bite during their interim of silence. This woman was stubborn, and Mitch couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed with her obstinate dedication to the whole bit.
“I haven’t seen you around here before.” The words were tacky as she mumbled, her mouth chockfull of burnt cookie. “New?”
“Relatively. I’m…” He was about to tell her he’d recently been hired on at the firehouse, but with her connection to it, he decided to refrain. “I’m in town for work.”
“First time in Snowdrift, I take it.” There was a stack of paper napkins in a wicker basket on the counter, and Mitch pretended not to notice when Faith wiped her mouth, discreetly spitting the remnants of the charred cookie into one.
“Yep. First time.”
“Well, you’ll soon discover this place is unlike any you’ve ever been to. There’s just something distinctly different about Snowdrift Summit.”
Mitch grinned. He didn’t doubt that. And he couldn’t ignore the sense that there was something distinctly different about Faith Porter, too.
CHAPTER 2
Faith ditched her snow boots at the door of her apartment. Her big, puffy ski jacket went on a hook right next to the fiddle leaf fig she’d forgotten to water going on a month now, and she tossed her keys into a small glass dish that housed loose coins, hair ties, and an occasional tube of lip balm.
Faith studied the sad looking plant and frowned. Every day, a newly fallen leaf littered her floor.
She could easily give up on being a plant mom, but her own mother had assured her it was a good first step in preparing for the future responsibilities of parenthood. Keeping-things-alive-101, or something like that.
Faith wasn’t really in the headspace for any of it. Keeping her late father’s business afloat was all the commitment she could currently manage.
And she didn’t even have a boyfriend, for goodness’ sake, let alone a husband or partner.
She had a bakery. A smoke-filled, burnt cookie-scented bakery.
And she had her pride, something that nearly went up in smoke that afternoon, too.
She hadn’t wanted to admit to Mitch that baking fiascos were frequent occurrences lately. She couldn’t understand it. For the last year, things had been running smoothly, with the occasional sunken soufflé or undercooked pastry. Sometimes, she wondered if it was the altitude affecting things. She knew to adjust accordingly for it, and it had never caused a problem in the past.
Maybe the altitude was affecting herbrain, not her baking. Because when Mitch stormed into her shop like some street-clothes-wearing superhero, she’d gone momentarily lightheaded. He was handsome, alarmingly so. Dark hair cropped in a neatly trimmed style. Tall stature with broad shoulders that commanded attention. Cheekbones that carved out a rugged charm and a coy, confident grin. He was her type, if she were to have one.
But then he opened his mouth.
Man, the guy was a stickler for rules.
Not that Faith operated outside of norms or regulations. She’d jumped through all the necessary hoops during the yearly inspections. She was just a little lazy when it came to keeping things up in between checks. But the bakery was never an unsafe place for her customers. She made sure of that.
She never did make it over to the firehouse. It wasn’t like she had a set schedule to adhere to when it came to gifting the first responders with ‘thank-you’ treats. But even if it wasn’t expected, it was at the very least anticipated. Her father’s twenty-year legacy of supplying the firefighters with weekly cookies was a symbolic gesture of the town’s appreciation, and it wasn’t a tradition she wanted to break any time soon.
She would try again tomorrow.
Tonight, she only had one goal: to finish her knitting project while she watched the finale episode of “A-List Attraction,” a new reality show that paired celebrities with singles. She rarelywatched dating shows, but her friends Rachel and Sarah swore this one was different. And in many ways, it was, considering it wasn’t every day that a no-name contestant got to not only meet a celebrity, but have the opportunity to date them.
Faith enjoyed the absurdity of it all. She highly doubted anything substantial would come from these so-called relationships. It was all for show, no real connection. If anything, it made her feel a little better about her own failed dating history. She’d been with Kevin, a boy she’d met at summer camp before her senior year of high school, for almost a decade when they’d finally pulled the plug on that stagnant relationship. Everyone had expected them to get married, at the very least, engaged. But Faith never held her breath for a ring. They were compatible, but in the way that good friends were well-matched. There was no romance, no spark. Even when they’d started dating as camp counselors, it was primarily because the campers had emphasized what a great couple they would make.
They’d started a relationship, and then simply forgot to end it.
But Faith had been single for a year now, and only recently entertained the idea of dating again. It wasn’t something she had wanted to jump back into. And truth be told, Snowdrift Summit wasn’t teeming with eligible men.
She wondered if Mitch was single.
Shaking her head, she forced that intrusive thought from her brain. She wouldnotentertain the notion of the annoyingly rigid stranger as a potential dating possibility. The man set her teeth on edge with his know-it-all ways and presumptuous attitude. Definitely not what she wanted in a partner, even if his looks were a tempting match.
